❄ LUCREZIA FER [D3] ❄
Feb 22, 2014 2:49:47 GMT -5
Post by florentine, d4b ❁ on Feb 22, 2014 2:49:47 GMT -5
LUCREZIA MYRTE FER1) Lucrezia was born with white magic in her fingertips.She is the snow-queen, ruling over the palace of her bedroom with glittering fingers and a spider web touch - lace the colour of broken glass follows her in train like a wedding dress, shrouding her with a veil of icy indifference.
Since she was small, she has possessed an obsession with the way her footsteps fall silently upon the floorboards; she cannot help but see the world as a kingdom stretching out as far as her near-sighted eyes can see, each and every particle branded with her name. Her lack of compassion is chronic and incurable, for no pair of glasses could allow her vision to take into account the mere mortals who dance around her. Even her family lives in various states of beneath-her-notice, each of them another blank face to ignore in the hallway.
(That is, until she needs them for one of her terrible deeds, and then suddenly she holds a shining sun in her hands that she can promise away in a heartbeat.)
Ever since Lucrezia was a child, the District has responded to her well. The trees listen to her beckoning, and the birds move as she pleases. Almost nothing can bring a smile to her rosebud lips, but when she sits alone on her window-seat with the breeze on her cheeks, she coaxes the birds into her outstretched fingertips. They come as though her lyrics are woven in their mother tongue, and she scatters their feathers in the wind.2) A doll could not compete with her still-faced gaze.Lucrezia is a picture of poise and collected perfection. Each movement is controlled and calculated, and her face is not one to betray an emotion. In fact, the girl is often so lifeless and unresponsive that her family have forever compared her to the porcelain doll that takes pride of place on her shelf.
As a toddler, she rarely spoke, choosing instead to watch the entire world with an eerie sense of knowing that unnerved her company. As she grew older, her tongue became a tool for getting as she pleased.
Insensitive and fickle, her loyalties lie only within her own ribcage. Lucrezia believes herself to be more deserving than the other residents of Panem - she's not one to feel guilt (or anything else that would mark her too clearly as human) and will happily steal, lie and cheat without the weight of a conscience on her narrow shoulders. Intelligent and unable to understand others enough to manipulate them, the girl has learned to dwell in silence.
(After all, those who have not been graced with the gift she has have done nothing to warrant the privilege of her attention.) She's childlike in other ways, however, spending much of her time in her room, carefully brushing the locks of her doll and pondering the extent of her self-worth.3) She is afraid of the dark.For a girl who carries herself in such a controlled manor, Lucrezia struggles with the things she cannot perfect. Anything she lacks power over worries her greatly, and she steals if only to have things to hold over the others, just in case. She has confidence in her magic to a point, but the lingering curse that threatens her family is of great concern to her, and she spends long nights wondering by candlelight if there is a spell that can ward away the darkness. (Of course, she is not worried of the effects on the others, but the troubles it might cause her personally.)
Despite her constant, stony-faced and unwavering resolve, the Lucrezia beneath her ivory skin is one filled with a terror of change. She is rigid and heartless, just like the dolls that act out her idealisms inside a tiny shoebox world. (Her dolls house is painted with fine, expensive brushes and a steady hand, engraved with her name and the home of a flawless replica of her own four walls.)
When she cannot sleep, Lucrezia moves her darlings about the miniature rooms over and over like the rehearsal of a twisted pantomime, as though by having the stiff little figurines practise the dance she is hoping for, the reality of tomorrow will go exactly to plan.. . .
