#i love u inherent unfairness of mother-child relationships

[wind-up-thancred]

mama's gonna help build the wall

[queermediastudies]

Intertwined Stories on Homosexual Issues

The Hours is a drama film directed by Stephen Daldry. The movie was released in United States on December 18, 2002, and won Oscar Award in the same year. It tells the inextricable connection between three women in different eras. To be honest, it is a deeply depressing and shocked Montage movie, which shows the different reaction made by three heroines, Virginia Woolf, Laura Brown, and Clarissa Vaughan, when facing same social and psychology pressure brought by gay and lesbian issues. By showing those stories, The Hours shows audiences how different people make their choice when facing death problems on homosexual issues: Escaping through death, meekly accepting, or getting rid of the pass. Although The Hours’s major concerns do not maintain colored gays or lesbian groups, it is a good movie which using Montage structure to guide its audiences to a broader real-life concept.

Virginia Woolf is a talented author, lived in a countryside in Britain in 1920s. She used to live in London, but finally settled down in the countryside in order to cure her illness. Virginia herself cannot stand for such a quiet life; she is eager for living in a busy city. This repressed country life made Virginia breathless, and her homosexual identity gradually revealed: she kissed her sister in her house. Being gay or lesbian was actually illegal in England at that time (Caitlin, 2015). I consider this kiss as the way Virginia recognizes and expresses herself in her repressed daily life, which is similar with the “coming out” process in homophile movement throughout the 1950 and into the 1960, when “the individual realization that one was homosexual, and the acknowledgment of this sexual identity to other gay people.”(Gross, 2002) Virginia’s self-conscious also start the plot that she persuaded her husband to move back to London latter in the movie. A plot at the beginning of Virginia’s story shows her fight ended in failure: She drowned herself into the river in the countryside. Perhaps Virginia’s homosexual identity isn’t recognized by the society, in the following years, she went back to the quiet countryside and suicide in despair.

Laura is a typical housewife with a lovely son. She lived in the Los Angeles in 1950s, shortly after the end of World War II, when men returned to ordinary life with the honor in battlefield. Unlike others, Laura seems to be laden with anxiety; she was trapped in her dully life. It was Virginia’s novel, Mrs. Dalloway, resonated her to yearn for a new life style. When Laura’s friend came to visit her, she imitated Virginia and kiss her female friend. Her friend avoided contact with Laura latter on since homophobia, which makes Laura totally disappointed. She threw the unfinished birthday cake she made for her husband into the garbage can and wanted to give up her life as well. Laura wanted to suicide just like the story in Mrs. Dalloway. But in the end, she gave up and returned to her normal life. Laura has an intersectionality identity, not only as a white middle class lesbian, but also as a tender mother and a virtuous wife. In the heteronormativity concept in the society, Laura cannot only live for herself, she needs to be responsible for her family and fix into the family role, although they are contrary to her sexual orientation and personal willingness. Warner once stated how heterosexuality social mainstream shapes personal living way, “Het culture thinks of itself as the elemental form of human association, as the very model of intergender relations, as the indivisible basis of all community, and as the means of reproduction without which society wouldn't exist”, “Materialist thinking about society has in many cases reinforced these tendencies, inherent in heterosexual ideology, toward a totalized view of the social.” (Warner, 1993) Laura cannot ignore her child and husband’s expectation for her. Finally, Laura remade the birthday cake, celebrated birthday night with her husband, and continued her dully and hopeless life.

Relatively speaking, Clarissa Vaughan’s story is the best among three heroines. Clarissa is an editor who felt in love with Richard Brown, a gay writer with AIDS. Clarissa took good care of Richard every day, and considered that her life is meaningful only by staying around Richard. Richard, on the other hand, suffered from AIDS, disliked and scared by all his friends except Clarissa due to his disease. The only reason for him to keep alive is Clarissa. This type of living style is not what Clarissa and Relatively wanted, they just created cages for each other. The audiences can see how Clarissa wanted to get rid of it and started a new life, from the plot she cried alone in the kitchen. Finally, Richard jumped out of the window to stop Clarissa spending more time on him, and force Clarissa to start her new life. Although Clarissa was in heartbreaking sadness, she finally got rid of the past and started her new life.

Besides of the story, there are a lot of details and metaphors among the movie in order to make the it more lively and real to audiences. For example, Virginia’s sustained anxiety state and her unconscious action of biting the bottom of the pen when writing; Laura’s confused and unconfident mental state as well as the birthday ceremony cake she made twice; Clarissa’s messy hairstyle and her anger when Richard giving up himself. Although The Hours organized in Montage way, which lenses frequently switch form plots to plots, it brings a smooth viewing experience since the emotion between plots are identical and well organized. Those stories focused on the life of heroines, rather than any specific queer issues, which also claimed by Goltz et al, “‘To come out as me and not to highlight his sexuality, preferring to ‘talk about me, about my life, not about my queer life” (Goltz et al, 2016).

Although The Hours tells a great story of the death problems that queer people are facing among different period of time, it seems that its major concerns are all white people. The Hours failed to represent any living situation of black gay and lesbian people. While according to the report of UCLA, African-American take up about 12% of LGBTQ group nowadays. (The Williams Institute, 2019). The public’s losing attracted on colored skin people may cause them faced misrepresentative and misunderstanding. According to Ludmila Leiva’s words, “As a queer person who is also a person of color, watching television is a fraught experience for me. Constantly, I find myself searching for characters whose stories mirror my own and, repeatedly, I come up empty-handed. I am forced to accept the few, tiny fragments reflecting my own lived experiences that I can find scattered across today’s TV offerings, but I am tired. I long desperately for television writers, producers, and networks to prioritize the centering of human experiences beyond the conventional, and I know I am not alone.” (Ludmila, 2017)

Obviously, the experience of queer people in color is different than the white, but only a few people notice it in TV and film industry. Existing media works cannot represent them in the correct way, which will create unfair treatment toward those minority groups. The phenomenon of lacking colored queer concepts in The Hours and other media projects still need time to improve.

As a Chinese citizen, I must say that this movie shocked me a lot. CPC is harmonizing Chinese online environment, concepts like LGBTQ rarely appeared in Chinese public view. It is scary how many Chinese male and female actually living their daily life just like Virginia Woolf, Laura Brown, or Clarissa Vaughan. From my personal perspective, the most desperate story in The Hours is Laura’s one, she cannot ignore her child and husband’s expectation for her, thus she needs to keep living along with dull and hopeless life in the rest of her life. Happened to know that from Chinese perspective, Confucianism create a great heteronormativity for both man and woman to obey their role.

In general, I think The Hours is a great film to appreciation and analysis. Montage itself is a great way to guide the audience's mood and enlighten them to think more. By using Montage, the director maximizing the tension while guaranteed the integrity of his film. Moreover, the juxtaposition and intersection of Virginia Woolf, Laura Brown, and Clarissa Vaughan’s stories cause tension suspense throughout the entire film, and shows the relationship between each character in different places and different time period when facing the similar problem. In the end of the film when all three stories come to the end, the sense of shock comes continuously to force me think more outside the movie’s concept into the reality.

  Works Cited

Gallagher, C. (2019). Was It Illegal to Be Gay In 1920s England Or Is Thomas Barrow's Struggle On 'Downton' Just About Cultural Pressure?. [online] Bustle. Available at: https://www.bustle.com/articles/62849-was-it-illegal-to-be-gay-in-1920s-england-or-is-thomas-barrows-struggle-on-downton [Accessed 27 Oct. 2019].

Gross, L. P. (2002). Up from invisibility: lesbians, gay men, and the media in America. New York: Columbia University Press.

Goltz, D. B., Zingsheim, J., Mastin, T., & Murphy, A. G. (2016). Discursive negotiations of Kenyan LGBTI identities: Cautions in cultural humility. Journal of International and Intercultural Communication, 9(2).

Leiva, L. (2019). TV Is Getting More Progressive, But It's Still Failing Queer People of Color. [online] Bustle. Available at: https://www.bustle.com/p/tv-is-getting-more-progressive-but-its-still-failing-queer-people-of-color-64520 [Accessed 25 Oct. 2019].

Warner, M. (Ed.). (1993). Fear of a queer planet: Queer politics and social theory (Vol. 6). U of Minnesota Press.

Williamsinstitute.law.ucla.edu. (2019). The Williams Institute. [online] Available at: https://williamsinstitute.law.ucla.edu/visualization/lgbt-stats/?topic=SS#demographic [Accessed 30 Oct. 2019].

[quantumrpg]

NAME: Nicolette “Nic” Bordeaux  AGE: 28/188 SPECIES: Vampire OCCUPATION: Owner of Hell Above YEAR OF ARRIVAL: 1863 RESIDENT FOR… fifty years. FACECLAIM: Crystal Reed

t i m e  i s  a n  i l l u s i o n,  b u t  n o t  o u r  s t o r i e s…

Trigger warning(s): child abuse, domestic violence, mention of attempted rape, child abduction, attempted suicide, violence, murder.

Following three days of fighting, protests and demonstrations, a period in French history that would forever be known as the French Revolution of 1830, Charles X abdicated the monarchy and the upper bourgeoisie successfully managed to place Louis-Philippe I as his successor. The fact the upper middle class was able to secure both a political and social ascendancy saw the birth of the July Monarchy, and although they had been displeased with their new king, save from a few reforms, the people continued to grow discontented with the monarchy. While the liberals and revolutionaries revolted, an innocent baby girl was born into the political atrocity of France but instead of the welcoming arms and loving smile of her mother, the first sight Nicolette Eliana Bordeaux witnessed was the weeping of her father. It wasn’t long until his tears eventually turned into angry fists and hatred shining in dark eyes. This was the only form of her father Nicolette knew, the only element of him she could recall. From the instant she was old enough to figure it out, Nicolette knew her father despised her, just as she knew her mother had died giving birth to her. With Nicolette’s elder sister Adeline being already 6 when she was born, the eldest of the Bordeaux daughters were old enough to begin detesting her little sister due to their father’s belief that it was indeed Nicolette’s fault his wife was dead.

Andre Bordeaux was a renowned alchemist and estate owner; an inherently wealthy nobleman among the aristocracy of France, and with no sons, Adeline became the heiress of her father’s fortune. Nicolette and Adeline grew up during the Victorian Era; the Bordeaux’s an upper-class family, living in Marseille among the poor. With their wealth came a life of luxury; living in a house so large it would be impossible not to find yourself lost among its array of rooms, numerous maids, and servants at their every becking call. Adeline was showered with gifts from her father, always adorning the finest pearls and wearing the most elegant dresses. Their father’s suits were tailored, equally as expensive as his eldest daughter’s dresses. Despite leading an obscenely lavish and excessive lifestyle, Nicolette was a lonely child, starved of love from her father or even companionship from her sister. She was never bought gifts or dresses, instead, Adeline’s cast-offs were always sufficed enough. If it wasn’t for the fact she had to be seen to blend in with the other upper-class girls, Nicolette was certain such a garment would never have been on her back in the first place. As a result of her father and sister’s hatred toward her, she spent her days alone; roaming around the vast house, occupying her childish mind with simple games of hide and seek, except she knew no one would ever seek her. Nicolette was an outcast in her own family and often wished she had died in place of her mother.

Nicolette was 8 when her father purchased a beautiful chestnut brown Clydesdale. Immediately, the young girl fell in love with the creature and with her father out for the majority of the days, she kept herself busy by attending to the horse and caring for it. There was a fragment of the girl’s mind that told her she had to keep her involvement with her father’s horse a secret, otherwise, he would become angry with her. The affection she showed the horse was often the only solace the girl sought; it became the driving force behind her temporary happiness. Her sneaking outside to tend to the creature lasted an entirety of three years, however, the solace did not. In a tragic turn of events, Nicolette’s beloved horse had broken one of its hind legs. The day she discovered this was also the day her sister happened upon her attempting to aid the horse. Of course, the girl pleaded with her sister not to tell their father although the biggest fraction of her brain told her it was futile; her sister hated her as much as their father did and wouldn’t spare her his abuse at learning this fact. Indeed, her father was informed of this and late that night, he stormed into Nicolette’s room, dragged the girl from her bed barefoot and out to the stable where he scolded his daughter. As her eyes stung with tears, the welt of her father’s belt already taking formation upon her delicate skin, the young girl cried not for her father’s abuse, something she’d know all her life, but for the horse. At the tender age of eleven, perhaps in an opportune moment to punish his youngest daughter for taking his wife from him, Andre Bordeaux had Nicolette kill her precious horse; an event which remains to haunt her and will do for the rest of eternity. That night, she lay among the haystacks in the stable next to the Clydesdale and wept enough tears she thought she might never shed a single one ever again.

For the next three years, the Bordeaux family grew more and more sinister toward each other and on Nicolette’s fourteenth birthday, Adeline, at the age of 20, informed her little sister and their father she was to be married to a noble banker and leave their ornate mansion promptly after her nuptials. Despite the abuse and torment Nicolette had faced from her sister, there remained a shred of decency, a glimmer of hope inside the teenager’s heart. She had spent her entire life aiming to please both her father and her sister. She could play various instruments, speak several languages fluently, recite every Victor Hugo poem word for word. Yet, still, she went unnoticed and neglected by her family. Even after all of that, even after the trauma of her beloved horse killed by her own hands, Nicolette clung to the faith that one day, maybe her own sister’s heart would soften for her. It was a childish and hopeless thought to waste her energy considering that in a time of happiness and love such as marriage, the same sentiments would be expressed toward her. The girl’s excitement at the prospect of her elder sister getting married, and possibly allowed attendance of it, was ripped to shreds when the eldest Bordeaux forbid her sister from attending the wedding or even setting foot near the ceremony. While the entire village, their father, noblemen and noblewomen attended Adeline’s wedding, Nicolette sat alone at home. It was that very day a deep-rooted hatred and resentment for her sister and father bubbled up deep inside her following years upon years of unfair treatment.

As she stated, Adeline left her enormous childhood home the instant her vows had been exchanged, leaving Nicolette and their father alone for the first time since the young brunette had been born into the world. With his beloved eldest daughter married and living elsewhere, Andre seemed to take this out on Nicolette; his abuse and taunting worse than before. It took a few months but the instant the young woman found the strength within herself to attempt retaliation against the cruelty of her father, was the moment Nicolette transformed from a desperate and vulnerable girl unloved by her father into a headstrong and defiant woman who displayed as little respect for her father as possible. Of course, her disrespect and defiance were always rewarded with further outrage and violence but this did little to ebb her resistance. Desirous to rid himself of his youngest daughter for once and for all, Andre Bordeaux attempted encouraging Nicolette to find herself a potential suitor. Naturally, she declined his suggestions each and every time they arose. And naturally, each and every time she declined, her father’s contempt for her grew and grew. This brief exchange of words between the pair stretched years, every time ending with her father’s hand wrapped around her neck in an endeavor to frighten her into agreeing, but Nicolette swore to herself the night of her sister’s wedding she would never allow her father to intimidate her into doing his bidding. Instead, the brunette would parade around the town, clothed in the most expensive and beautiful gowns courtesy of her father as a prompt to change her mind about marrying. It was when her father ventured to provide her with the wealth and decadence he once refused to yet gave mindlessly to her sister, that Nicolette would consider how fickle a man would become in the face of desperation; how numb he would become regards trying to persuade a woman to bend to his will. It was this realization alone that led the young woman into her life of promiscuity; running around the village with various men of various ranks, spending her time in the taverns after dark. It wasn’t long until word of her behavior spread across the village like wildfire, tracing its way back to her father who became further infuriated at his daughter for tarnishing his name and dishonoring his reputation.

At the age of 26, three years following the preferred age of marriage among young women at the time, Nicolette was now a more cold and callous woman who consistently rebelled against her father’s wishes of her to marry and leave his life for once and for all. Refusing to do so in order to spite her father, Nicolette continued to engage in shunned upon relationships with men of a low social status across the village in which she lived. However, this rebellious lifestyle resulted in her own ultimate downfall when her father announced if she was to keep refusing his propositions, he would have her married off to an appropriate man he had found himself. Entirely against his proposal yet with no choice, the brunette found herself accompanying her father one day on a business venture where she was to come face to face with the man her father would later sell her to. The little she knew about alchemy was that it was an ancient practice shrouded in mystery and secrecy; its practitioners mainly sought to turn lead into gold. The little she knew about her father’s business that day was his working alongside fellow aristocrats and kings men in order to obtain this so far unattainable goal. That day she had learned her father desired to marry her off to a man of high esteem, a man who was willing to marry her despite her impurity, a man who would pay dearly for her; after all, her reputation around the village cost her father and his business a great deal. It was also this day the woman discovered the blacksmith in which her father hired to aid in the turning of lead to gold was a man she found herself intrigued by.

After their initial encounter, it became evident the blacksmith reciprocated Nicolette’s interest. Soon, the upper-class lady began paying the lower-class man innocent visits and although he’d warned her against doing so, claiming it was a risk for them to be seen together so regularly, she decided remaining away would be fruitless considering she’d already earned herself a reputation prior to her entanglement with the local blacksmith. In the midst of this, she was married off to Wyatt Rousseau despite still carrying a torch for the blacksmith, Pierre Mercier. It came as no surprise to Nicolette that her newfound husband treated her as badly as her father had; reminding her daily she was nothing more than a simple harlot and that he’d only agreed to marry her so that he might one day inherit her father’s riches. Similar to her rebellion against her own father, Nicolette revolted against her husband which always resulted in the most recent welts and bruises that decorated her skin. Rousseau treated his wife as if she were nothing more than a slave for him to whip and mistreat, when, in fact, she was actually an upper-class noblewoman born into prosperity and entitled to respect from any and every man she came into contact with. However, the fundamental fact remained, her disgraced reputation among the wealthy men of France and the lack of respect showed to her by her very own father, aided in the abuse and violation she endured from other men. Yet, the fire within the brunette burned brighter with each smack across her face and every grip on her neck by the hands of her husband. She refused to bow to him, to lay with him, to respect him. She refused to be threatened or owned by any man ever again.

In the middle of her turbulent marriage, Nicolette continued passing by the blacksmith, continued visiting Pierre in the open; refusing to care whether or not her husband would discover her pastime. Each time she’d visit, Pierre would tell her to cease doing so for fear of angering her husband and when she’d state she wasn’t afraid of him, he would tell her she should be and that any harm caused to her would be caused to him also due to the affection he felt toward her. The blacksmith’s divulgence of the nature of his feelings toward her only served to spur Nicolette on which, in turn, further fueled her husband’s anger. Upon Rousseau’s discovery of his wife paying regular visits to the blacksmith, he confronted Nicolette, enraged beyond belief by her supposed deceit and disrespect. Naturally, she assumed his revelation of such a thing, although it was never kept secret in the first place, would end in his fist meeting her face as always. What she didn’t expect, what she didn’t prepare herself for was the sudden horrid attempt her husband made to rape her. How he grabbed her, manhandled her, screamed at her about her dalliances with a blacksmith yet her refusal to lie with her own husband. In a blind panic, she lifted the closest object to hand and with all of her strength, took a swing at her husband’s head; knocking the man to the floor beneath her feet. The next thing Nicolette could recall was running as fast as she could until she wound up seeking refuge in the local tavern; a place she was well acquainted with by now, a place where people were well acquainted with her by now also.

That night, she found herself being carried out of the tavern by the blacksmith; her body numb from both shock and alcohol consumption. That night she refused to go home, cried in the arms of the man she wished she’d been married to instead. That night, she exposed herself and what had led her to her current state to the one man she truly loved. That night she told that same man she could no longer see him because the price to pay had become too severe. That night, she slept in a barn; almost a homage to the last night in her life she’d spent crying herself to sleep in a barn. The following morning, Nicolette done as she always did, picked herself back up, put on her armor and faced the world with the bravest face she could paint on. She had no choice but to return to her home and although deep inside she was petrified of what she would face, she forced her feet to carry her through the village and back to the house she fled the previous night. To her astonishment, her husband awaited her arrival in the foyer and where he hadn’t brought the authorities to her given her attack on him, he hadn’t apologized for his tried attack on her either. Instead, he simply declared if the notion of him laying a hand on her disgusted her to such an extent, he wouldn’t; alternatively, he would seek his pleasures elsewhere as she relentlessly strived to with any man who wasn’t him. This was a prayer answered for the brunette. And so this setup continued for weeks on end, her father unmissably absent from her life and her husband gone for days on end, assumably with various women who would provide him with what Nicolette refused to; neglecting her as her father once had. It was during this time she paid Pierre a visit for the first since the night she exposed her emotions to him. That evening she had merely intended to express her gratitude toward the man for his aid in her drunken state, however, not according to plan, the two wound up spending a night of passion and sincerity together. The next morning, Nicolette woke alone in the barn she’d woke also alone a few weeks before, and she went home to her violent, loveless husband, deciding to cherish the last memory of the blacksmith she’d ever have.

The following months appeared to go by as usual for Nicolette, her father absent from her life altogether and her husband always gone, yet something remained unseen by her until it became too obvious not to recognize. She was pregnant and she knew her husband would be as aware as her, this baby was not his. As she anticipated, Rousseau was enraged by this and immediately informed Nicolette’s father of the bastard child his wife had conceived. What Nicolette had failed to anticipate was how her husband and father would implore to discover the identity of the man responsible. Similar to her shame of sleeping with men out of wedlock, the investigation became a public affair until the day the blacksmith was found guilty of the crime. Some element of the female decided that even if he hadn’t been the perpetrator they deemed him to be, somehow, they would have reached the same conclusion due to constant reports of the two together in public. Try as she did to spare his life, every endeavor was futile for her father and husband refused to listen as they decided upon the punishment they saw fit until they settled on the invention of rape. The ruling itself was impossibly offensive to Nicolette who snarled at her husband, a man that had no so long ago attempted to carry out the crime he had fabricated about Pierre. The more the brunette verbally abused them, the more her father and husband relished in the fact they were able to take her precious blacksmith from her. With their attention focused elsewhere, Nicolette seized her opportunity to sneak into the prison cells where she begged with Pierre to forgive her for seeking him out against his warnings, she confessed her love for him and for their unborn child. It came as no surprise to her he forgave her; comforting her in her anguish as he assured her his love for her was as infinite as it was for their child. There she sat until sunrise, wishing the day away so the inevitable would never come, but it did. As soon as the clock struck midday, the love of her life was yanked from his confines, an impossible weight chained to his wrists where he was then flung into the water; left to drown, branded a lower-class citizen who took advantage of an upper-class woman. And when the deed was done, her husband prohibited her time to mourn his death, whisking her away and locking her in the confines of her home so she may not leave without permission or his company. Where Nicolette once would have bit back, she had no fight left in her; the bright fire inside her was now just a smoldering flame. She’d lost it all. That night was the third night Nicolette cried herself to sleep, mourning the loss of a man she loved. She had no choice but to have the baby, which was the only consolation to her; to bear the child of the man she loved and to have that love encapsulated within the life their love would bring into the world.

The next few months of her pregnancy carried on as expected until late one night, she broke out in a high fever, writhing and crying out in pain, bedridden for what felt like hours until her baby entered the world with a loud cry; the sound rang sharply like music to the woman’s ears. Automatically, she’d begged to see her baby, to hold him in her arms, gaze into his eyes and see those of her lovers staring back. However, the instant her son was brought into the world, he was taken from her and her husband carried him off into the night. Nicolette tried with all her might to resist and fight, but she was restrained to the bed she lay in, left in the dark both physically and mentally with no knowledge of where her baby was being brought. The night that was supposed to be one of the happiest she’d ever experienced, was the night her heart broke all over again. She’d lost the man she loved and now, she’d lost their baby. Days passed and Nicolette remained shackled to the bed frame, wearing the same gown she’d wore when she’d gave birth; only visited by the servants and maids to wash and feed her. She’d requested to be let out of her chains in order to change but was always denied to do so by the order of her husband. Eventually, her request was granted and upon her release from her restraints, Nicolette fought her way out of her home and she ran, barefoot, for as long as she could until her feet bled and she knew she’d long outrun the village she’d been born and raised in. Now alone and broken down as much as she thought humanly possible, Nicolette resorted to the only solution she thought viable at the time. That night, the agony of her entire 28 years of life overwhelmed the woman to the point she found the courage to plunge a knife into her own chest in an attempt to end her suffering.

She believed she had died until she woke, a searing pain in her head, the vibrancy of daylight causing her to squint. With no recollection of actually ingesting the blood smeared across her cool cheek, Nicolette struggled to gain control of her senses, of her emotions and of her memories. It was then she realized she had attempted to kill herself only the night before and as she lay there, drawing in her last breaths, she had a vague picture of a cloaked figure hovering over her limp body before she succumbed to what felt like an endless sleep. After crawling her way out of the earth and dirt covering every inch of her weak body, Nicolette waited for sundown where she then stumbled across the village; her weak legs carrying her directly to the root cause of her pain. Upon arriving at her childhood home, her father confronted her about her running away from her husband. With all of her senses heightened tenfold and an impossible thirst, it wasn’t long before Nicolette saw red; her father’s constant ridicule of her from the second she was born boiling up deep inside her. With an overwhelming power and a remarkable lust for blood, Nicolette lunged at her father and before she could stop, blood decorated every inch of her and she dumped her father’s lifeless body on the floor of her childhood home. Despite her hatred for her father, her actions shook her to her very core and in a heated panic, she fled the house she grew up in, now a fully fledged vampire. Nicolette was no stranger to running in the dark of night, only this time her heart swole with wrath, with confusion, with grief.

With no idea how she was still alive and with no clue as to what she was, Nicolette wandered the streets late at night, searching for the answer she never got. She was a disoriented and chaotic woman on the run, hiding from the daylight and feeding in the dead of night. She supposed her father’s body had been found, that her sister had inherited their family wealth, that her husband had little regard for her whereabouts. She thought to herself what a tragedy it was to be running with no destination; her lover murdered before her very eyes, their child’s location and mortality unknown. All that she loved was gone, her life had been shattered beyond possibility, and all she had in life was an unquenchable thirst and immortality. For the longest time, she was in the dark and afraid of who she had become until she finally realized she was a creature of the night; a vampire. As she led a life lurking in the shadows, fury, and pain simmering beneath the surface, she realized it had only been her humanity keeping her from exacting her revenge. Now that she was no longer human, she decided it was time to let her ferocity take control. It was from that moment onward that a switch flipped inside Nicolette and she metamorphized into a callous, cold-hearted bitch. She felt as though she had been reborn. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, she adopted a hardened heart and set out to destroy those who destroyed her. Starting with her husband. And this was only the beginning of the damage Nicolette brought to her hometown.

Following years of wrecking havoc and bloodshed in small villages, Nicolette decided her visitation to her elder sister was long overdue and as she expected, Adeline had indeed inherited their father’s estate. After fifty-five years of her sister’s marriage and departure of her life, Nicolette came face to face with a graying, frail woman lying on her deathbed. Stunned and confused by her younger sister’s ageless face, Adeline couldn’t believe her eyes. Leaning into her elder sister’s ear, Nicolette informed her dear sister how she had killed their father and if she hadn’t been dying, she would finish the job herself. Leaving her sister utterly shell-shocked and distraught, Nicolette strode off into the night feeling powerful and weightless for once in her life; continuing to seek out those who had wronged her, taking their life with her bare hands. When she was finished and her hands dripped with the ichor of those she’d murdered, she realized her vengeance had gotten her nowhere. She was still an immortal monster, Pierre was still dead, and her baby was still out there somewhere without his mother. It was upon this realization reality kicked in for the vampire and she recognized herself as the one being she had grown to loathe the most. She had spent years of her life trying to gain the love she deserved from her father, from her sister, from everyone in the village, and maybe even from herself, only to wind up hating the person she had become. It was this fact that was difficult to overcome but Nicolette had the rest of forever to try.

In an attempt to better her endless life, Nicolette bought a daylight ring and quickly adjusted to her heightened senses, learning to control her bloodlust until she was able to do the one thing she hadn’t in the midst of her vendetta; visit Pierre’s grave. As she stood at the foot of the settled soil, starting at the makeshift cross plunged into the earth, for the first time in the longest time, the brunette felt a sense of ease wash over her; she felt at peace. She had ended the lives of those who had hurt her and though she may never find her son, though she may never find another man to love, though she may never find happiness, this was her now. She considered burning her childhood home to the ground but in the end, she refused to give any more of her energy to her family for they never gave theirs to her, perhaps if they had her story would have ended entirely different. Instead, Nicolette left the village in which she grew up and never looked back. Throughout the centuries she endured, the vampire built herself back up again as she always had. During her travels across the world, every person she encountered, each city she refused to stay in for too long, she kept the memory of her son and of the man she loved in her heart; hoping they were at peace even if she may never be. Although she continued to bear the scars and welts of whippings and beatings she suffered from her past, she refused to write herself off. Nicolette allowed herself to admire people, history, art but never to fall in love because, despite her callous demeanor and stone cold heart, she wasn’t sure if she could handle the injury of another heartbreak.

Years had passed until the inevitable finally occurred and Nicolette’s past eventually caught up with her. Finding herself face to face with a man who informed her he was there to finally kill the monster who murdered his family, the fearless, feisty vampire refused to back down and let him witness her fear. However, her tenacious behavior almost cost her her life for once and for all, never again to return, when the hunter held a diamond blade against her chest, prepared to carve her heart from the cage of her ribs. Squeezing her eyes shut, ready to submit to him, Nicolette waited for her impending doom until it never came. Slowly, her eyes opened and to her surprise, she was no longer cornered with a blade pressed against her chest. Instead, her surroundings had entirely changed and she knew she was no longer stood in the same place she had been mere seconds beforehand. Disorientated and alone, Nicolette soon recognized her new surroundings as New York City, a place in which she knew of but had never stepped foot on. Evading final death, her initial puzzling question was “how in the hell did I get here?” It took a month or two for the ageless creature to adapt to her new surroundings and get her bearings, but eventually, Nicolette became well acquainted with her environment and never wished to go back to where she came from. Where she was now is exactly where she wanted to be. And maybe this is exactly what she needed to fully emerge from the ashes of her haunting past.

t e l l  m e,  a r e  w e  a  p r o d u c t  o f  w h o  w e  u s e d  t o  b e?

The semblance of Nicolette Bordeaux can only be accurately encapsulated by ribbed turtlenecks and skin-tight jeans with red-bottomed heels; fingertips smudged black from ink bleeding off paper and rose gold highlighter shimmering along the height of prominent cheekbones. The air of her seemingly callous persona epitomized by the ease of narcissism and offhand sardonic quips accompanied by a playful grin. Nicolette is the perfect balance of an elegant, self-assured woman and an intelligent, artful creature; effortlessly displaying only a rare sum of her persona, the elements of her she wishes others to see while concealing all other elements of herself she deems less than favorable. One’s initial opinion of Nicolette might be that she appears cold, the kind of person who wouldn’t blink while grasping any opportunity to cut you down only to build herself up. Presently centuries old, Nicolette couldn’t be farther removed from her childhood self. Everything has changed in her world, altered for the worst; each aspect of her persona reconstructed to fit the mould this cruel universe has provided for her. Every inch, every last detail of the once bright-eyed young girl has been broken down and reshaped into the icy-glared creature who lives today. The shy version of her childish former self utterly gone, leaving behind the confident and hard-hearted edition she is now. Life strengthened her, shaped her into a careless adaption of who she once was; a woman who stands her ground and speaks up for herself and what she believes in, never fearing the consequences of her actions or the reaction to her words. If her younger self could see who she turned out to be, she probably wouldn’t be pleased considering she’s going against absolutely everything her younger self-wanted. She’s lost things, people, ideas, dreams her younger self-believed she’d always have.

Growing up, Nicolette was extremely intrigued by everything and her desire to learn knew no bounds. She was always a curious child who yearned to obtain an understanding of everything in life, who yearned to gain extensive knowledge on every subject possible. Her passions have always been books and animals, and this has never changed. To all who encounter her, Nicolette can appear on the surface an extremely shallow and reckless woman with a huge tendency to adopt a sardonic tongue during almost all occasions. Given her demeanor and attitude, it would be fair to assess all the brunette is is a satirical mouthpiece, a superficial beauty with a permanent simper corroded into the corner of her lips. Upon initial glance upon her, Nicolette seems a carbon copy of every cold-hearted, artificial bitch; consistently adorning fashionable attire and always using her sharp wit as a weapon. Despite this all, the shell of the creature does obtain much more substance. Regardless of her blase attitude and flirtatious tendencies, the little girl who was once a human, abused by those in power, let down by life, who cherished her Clydesdale, remains deep within the high walls of Nicolette’s persona. It’s almost safe to say the facade Nicolette paints over herself every day is nothing more than a basic ruse; a temporary fixture to aid in slowly permanently fixing the broken fractions of her mind.

It goes without saying Nicolette is constantly shrouded in mystery, concealing her true emotions and feigning any feelings whatsoever. Despite her unstable persona, there are extremely rare occasions in which Nicolette will express sentiment and actually possesses the capability of caring for someone other than herself. However rare this segment of Nicolette may be, it does exist and it is a part of herself she prefers to keep under lock and key. If there’s one thing Nicolette despises most the idea of, it is exposing her underlying vulnerabilities as she believes it would then be easy for others to obtain the upper hand against her; she refuses to allow anyone else to exploit her Achilles heel. No matter how much she cares for someone, the instant this is discovered, she is likely to throw you under the bus as a safety measure for herself. She’d tell you it’s a coping mechanism but really, it’s because of her past experiences that she desperately fears being hurt by anybody else that she builds and builds solid walls around herself that it is impossible for most people to break down. It isn’t personal, it’s simply a means to an end, a way of protecting herself indefinitely. Although this sensitive, vulnerable aspect of Nicolette’s persona remains, it seldom prevails against her impulsive, sarcastic, intelligent nature. The problem with being intelligent is already knowing the things others try so desperately to hide from you. Nicolette knows how others view her, she sees how they run and take cover when she passes by, she hears the hushed murmurs shared between them. Everybody thinks she’s cold as ice, assume she’s too difficult to reason with, believe she’s even tougher to understand. It is this that enables her to flirt with danger, use her words as a weapon and also a bargaining chip. It is this that gives her an overwhelming sense of adrenaline, swimming through her veins and fuelling the fire within her.

Of course, Nicolette is beyond confident in herself and her abilities, able to manipulate people with a simple smile, having people hang on her every word with each syllable that escapes her crimson mouth; each sentence a masterpiece of fine art, each word arranged in a symphony, making it difficult for others to say no. However, it is when Nicolette finds herself truly alone that the glamor of her deceit and her impeccable charm slips away, leaving her face to face with the ghosts of her past, demons with the faces of those who hurt her. The ordeals in which Nicolette endured all throughout her childhood and into adulthood slowly but inevitably hardened her heart, transforming her into a cold-hearted woman, to put it plainly. Initially, she comes across as a vain and arrogant person who is both self-centered and self-assured. However, underneath her strong armor lies a deep sensitivity which is extremely rarely displayed to anyone except herself. She finds it difficult to trust anyone but herself due to her past and finds it equally as difficult to build solid connections with people. Her entire life she only had herself, she knows how it feels to be both lonely and alone, she has never needed a hand to hold and definitely never will. Although she has mellowed in rage and hatred over her long years of immortal life, she remains at times, intolerable due to her oozing confidence. Nicolette is a mixture of sarcasm and bluntness mingled with cockiness and promiscuity and a whole lot of hot-headedness. She is the epitome of beauty and grace but she will never hesitate to punch you in the face. She knows how to handle herself and will take you down while maintaining her manicure, kicking butt in stilettos. Despite her many flaws and irritating qualities, buried deep down inside is the potential for warmth and empathy toward those she could ever develop feelings for. She is both loyal and protective of those she cares about. She is strong-willed and firm in all of her beliefs.