#love how i periodically deciding to be a blade rp blog

[b1adie]

haha okay! so what i was going to say is this post reminds me of d—

[bloodinhershoesrpg]

Congratulations Maggie, you have been accepted for the role of Desdemona James! Your elaborations on Mona’s home life and the factors leading up to the biggest secret she has to conceal to date as well as how said secret still impacts her today even being touched upon in your choice of connections (as well as your playlist) was, in my opinion, simply marvellous! Mona was a character I wasn’t sure about keeping after this round of acceptance but you have made leaving her up for grabs worthwhile. I hope to see the two of you on the dash soon! Please send in your account with 24 hours and have a look at the checklist before you do!

REGARDING YOURSELF

Name / Age / Pronouns: Maggie, 21, she/her

Activity: It’s summer time for me, however I just got a new dog that I will be training daily. Then come fall, school will begin again, so I’m expecting my activity to be about a 7-8.

Additional: I really like the concept for this RP, and it’s beautifully done, too. Let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see from this application!

REGARDING THE STAR OF YOUR SHOW

Character name and faceclaim: Desdemona James portrayed by Brie Larson

CHARACTER DISSECTION

TW: child abuse, violence

Lullabies, love, the smell of lavender. These are things Mona thinks good childhoods are made of. There was a little period of her own that felt like that. Her big brother, Damen, made her early years joyous. He’d play hide and seek with her, cover her ears when their parents, Ariadne and Bill, were fighting. Cover her eyes if they couldn’t escape the room in time. Nothing hurt so bad to see when she knew her big brother was there to protect her. Time goes on and children grow into targets. Hand shaped bruises were for mother to hide, not children. Not for awhile. But things can only get worse when you live with a forest fire for a father and a bundle of twigs for a mother. Mona had two escapes: time with Damen and ballet.

Just because things were often tense at home doesn’t mean Mommy and Daddy didn’t want the best for their children. Damen was put in only the finest music programs to cultivate his gift for piano, and in turn, Mona was placed in the most prestigious of ballet schools in the area. Time together between siblings was often spent dancing and playing the keys together. Damen would try to get Mona’s little hands to reach all the keys for a chord and Mona would try to teach Damen to plié. They brought comfort to each other in times of trouble - and it seemed as though times were often of trouble.

Damen, being five years Mona’s senior, began to get out of the house as a teenager, leaving Mona to herself. With Damen around less, more attention was directed at Mona at home - and attention she did not want. Her father was hateful, possessive, and often showed Mona that she belonged to no one but him.  She made friends here and there in school, but eventually became withdrawn. She used to confide in friends at sleepover what kind of a maniac her father could be, what kind of blithering and oblivious drunk her mother was. Some friends even told their own parents out of concern. Nothing ever came of it. If there was one thing you could say about the rich, it’s that “family affairs” were kept within the family. And what good were friends when they added no chances for survival? As Mona grew up, watching her brother moreso from a distance, she threw herself deeper into ballet. Damen was no longer a confidant and a protector, but rather a warm memory and occasional reprieve. Friendships were replaced with alliances. “If we push each other, one of us might get the part.” She would go straight to ballet practice after school, complete her homework there, and not come home until she was certain that dinner was ready. Then, she’d try her best to go unnoticed until bed time. Sometimes Bill was occupied with other things, and other times he was firmly focused on making Mona’s life hell.

Life, while often hard, was not as bad as it could have been. That’s what Mona always reminded herself of. She had food, clothes, a brother who loved her even if her parents didn’t seem to, and most importantly, a passion.

Things changed in the time it takes to pick up a knife.

It was Christmas time. Damen was home for the holidays. Mona’s mother was somewhere in the house, sloshing around and weeping over one thing or another, as usual. Mona, for once, had gone out to socialize. A tiny crush on a peer from her ballet class had inspired her to go to a party out on a yacht. Yes, Mona came home late. No, she hadn’t been drinking. She reeked of other people’s cigarettes, and someone had spilled a glass of very expensive champagne all over her beautiful new tennis skirt. No parent would have believed she hadn’t been up to no good. Not many parents would react in the way that Bill James did, though. He tried to corner Mona, screaming accusations about her behavior and her virtue. Years of practice allowed for her to escape from him several times. She ran into the kitchen, simply because it was the closest room connected to the hall that led to her bedroom. But fingers ripping into her scalp, that familiar pull as she was yanked back and off her feet stopped her short. There was a struggle. A counter’s corner dug deep into her gut and a blade glimmered before her in the dim light from the moon in the window. It didn’t take a thought. Mona remembers the pain in her gut from the counter - then the look of horror on Damen’s face and his mouth moving around the words, “What have you done?”

Ambulances, police vehicles, handcuffs. It’s all a blur, especially after eight years. Mona doesn’t talk about it. What is there to say? Bill wasn’t even out of the hospital before Mona had spent all of her money from birthdays and christmases to find a home out of the country. They decided not to press charges, brush this under the rug just like every other painful and violent event that had happened in that house. The James family has enough money to pay off any and every individual who knows how or why Desdemona James stabbed her own father that night.

At sixteen years old, she left her parents behind in America as soon as she could, and with them, Damen. It was painful, but the rift that grew between them after that night was worse than the pain of leaving. He never understood her decision, because he had never seen the way their father had turned on her as they grew older. At least Mona can blame the physical distance between them for their estranged existences.

Now, in another country, Mona’s life is all too similar to those days she spent alone with her ballet. Only now, without the attacks from her father and with the sting of repressed memories and a bitterness over the childhood she wishes she’d had. Performance is still Mona’s strongest skill. One hones these abilities when living a life full of deep, dark secrets. Ballet keeps Mona busy and satisfied enough. Still, the weight of Mona’s past bears heavily on her shoulders. Regret colors her thoughts, only in ways that she can never admit. It’s one thing to regret stabbing your father - but it’s another entirely when your only wish is that you’d managed to kill him.

CONNECTING THE DOTS

Aliona Chernova:

Company is something Mona tolerates, rather than actively enjoys. If anyone described her, they wouldn’t exactly say “sociable” or “friendly.” Still, the time spent with Aliona is time that Mona cherishes, in her own way. Moments behind the building, staring at the dumpsters like mirrors, a chain of cigarettes between lips. Why is it that, although Mona is never baring her soul to Aliona, she feels so understood? Nothing bonds two people quite like sneaked cigarettes and misanthropy, she supposes. There’s a chaos in Aliona’s heart that feeds Mona’s desire to know she isn’t the only one silently suffocating under the pressures of both past and present. There is no pressure here to be quiet about the things Mona hates. Aliona does not pity Mona or wish to figure out what’s hurting her, making her so resigned within her own pain. Instead, the two can smile wryly in the face of dysfunction and say, “I know, right? Me too.” Aliona is an experience that Mona isn’t exactly attached to, but definitely doesn’t mind having.

Robert Brinkley:

Nothing makes Mona’s skin crawl like cops and older men. Her past always seems to be pushed to the forefront of her mind when Chief Inspector Brinkley comes sniffing around. It’s truly tragic what happened to Katerina, let’s be clear, but if it were up to Mona? She’d have nothing to with this investigation, solely because it’s bad for her heart. Chest-thumping, stomach churning anxiety eats at Mona when any older male cops start snooping around, and Chief Inspector Brinkley is no exception. His peering eyes, his pressing questions. You’d think Mona was guilty, she gets so nervous. That makes all of this worse. If anyone was going to look like someone who could murder Katerina Santos, it’d be the girl who tried to kill her father. Let’s just say Mona avoids Robert Brinkley whenever she can.

REGARDING YOUR INSPIRATION

Playlist

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