Kraft

Life Continues

I would be interested in this.

Thicker Than Water

Throughout the reverberating sounds of the hall, the sounds of children laughing and teachers informing, she felt the cough of attention directed at her. “Forgive me m'am.” Came the voice calling her gaze away from Dederick and his daughter, who were just now departing for the Egyptian exhibition. She spun on heel coming to bring her sights upon the young man stood before her. As he spoke, she took in his appearance, how he spoke, how fast he spoke, how articulate he was, how he held himself. She caught the excitement and the apprehension of the boy. She drank it in and watched him carefully, as she did with all people whom she had the pleasure (or displeasure) of acquainting herself with for the first time.

Yannick Bakker, was his name and an artist he claimed himself to be. Modest is the boy, she thought, if not a little fearful – a little confidence never harmed anyone. She had been in this situation many times, the young artist with the glean in their eye, both hopeful and terrified. For here they stood, like many before young Yannick Bakker, offering their heart and their passion, out towards her in the hopes that she will protect it forever. It was a cruel game, but a game, all the less, that she utterly enjoyed.

And now it was Heer Bakker's turn.

“Whilst I did not know the name, Yannick Bakker before, I certainly do now. And you are correct, I am indeed Madam de Sauveterre.” She said, finally indulging him as she took his hand and flashed a smile that revealed the tips of her fangs. It made for good measure to gather how a human would react to her being vampire, plus, it usually put the more roguish ones in their place.

“Usually, most artists have to earn some communal recognition that I may notice them for myself and go to them directly to offer to my patronage or, if the they feel brave, book an appointment months in advance, toil away for several hours, long into the late night and early morning. To then only present their work to me, and only me, to judge if they are worthy. You have done neither,” she stopped, allowing it to sink in somewhat for the young Yannick, before carrying on. “However, you've shown some initiative to deciding to just simply approach me without any of your credentials to show. As a result you've leave me rather bemused and yet curious, so, let us talk. So tell me, Heer Yannick, what is your movement? Your art style?” She asked, before deciding to go back on her question. “Better yet, show me, take me to the gallery that you believe resembles your work or whatever inspires you if do not like to confine your work into a movement, plus, we can talk somewhere a little more quiet. Children may be our future but, this time now is ours.”

Thicker Than Water

Guys, Jig, and especially, AlidaMaria. Forgive me for my absence, I've been away this weekend and letting you know slipped my mind - that was my fault. I've just seen the post now, Alida. I'll get to work on my reply now.

Thicker Than Water

Finally posted. Forgive me Jig, for taking the time to get it up. I'm not entirely happy with it, but consider it part one of two for Jenn first post. I'm in a better state now, however, so expect me to be more active (If not even making two posts today).

Thicker Than Water

“My word, it's beautiful.” It was after all, a child's painting, it was messy, different shades of colours splashed from top to bottom, however, she was a firm believer of the beauty in simplicity. And there was no better beautiful simplicity than that of a child's work of art. The girl flushed a shade of pink and smiled, “Thank you.” The girl said with a small whisper. The elder woman beamed back, the girl was no more than six, dimples, button nose, a natural childlike curiosity within those brown eyes.

“Are you enjoying today?” The woman asked, kneeling to bring herself level with the child.

She nodded.

“What's your favourite exhibit?”

“I liked the Egyptians. I thought they were pretty, and they liked cats and I cats.”

“Did you see the mummy?” She shook her head, the girl leant in closer and whispered, “I was scared.”

“If you'd like, I can come with you to look at the mummy.” The girl smiled widely and nodded in agreement. The child's barrier of hesitance slowly came down, and her shyness was soon replaced with boldness. “Are you a vampire?”

“Sebile!”

The man marched to his daughter with panicked urgency. “You don't ask questions like that, it's very rude. Forgive us, Madame de Sauveterre.”

Jennifer smiled at the pair, Sebile shared her father's eyes. But Jennifer presumed the dimples and nose were a product of the mother. “Heer Dederick, I have lived for a long time. It takes much more than someone to inquire to if I am a vampire or not to offend me, but yes, Sebile, I am indeed a vampire.”

“You said you've lived a long time, did you know any mummies?”

Dederick chocked on the air around him. Luckily for him, Jennifer de Sauveteree was leisurely in her nature, something a lot of other vampires lacked. “Maybe not that old.” Jenn gave a gentle squeeze to the cheek of the girl who turned an even brighter red, but whose smile grew wider. “Run along, there's still plenty of the museum and gallery to see. Once I've finished talking to your father, we'll take a look at the mummy together.” This satisfied the young Sebile, who smiled a farewell smile, running away to rejoin her classmates. Painting still in hand.
“Madame de Sauveterre, please, forgive my daughter, she-”

“Heer Dederick,” Jenn stopped him with a raised hand, “It's perfectly fine. You're daughter is a charming little girl. To seek to bottle her curiosity is a crime.”

The Voltaire was a communal effort of knowledge and creativity; of facts and of expression. It had been built to mirror the centres of cultural architecture of classic antiquity whilst also compartmenting the modern day. Ornate chambers and marble walkways, matched with Scandinavian modernism of pristine white-gold and the latest in technology. The Voltaire was a culmination of the past and of the future. It was the largest public lending library in the Netherlands, with 1.45 million books, not counting the large collection of manuscripts, play scripts, newspapers, music recordings, videos, databases, maps, prints and drawings. It was initially funded privatively, then with the changing nature of the new Amsterdam, it was provided government support once they discovered that a vampire was amongst the leading benefactors, then came the schools and the colleges and the universities. Dederick Van Der Sar, a relatively powerful businessman, was one of several who had invested in the project, he also sat on the board of members. He had been a man who Jennifer had grown to know well and she knew all too well that Dederick Van Der Sar, after all of these years, was still utterly terrified of her. And though Jennifer would never admit it openly, the Voltaire was hers. It was the silently acknowledge fact amongst the board of members.

Jennifer studied Dederick carefully, his eyes tracked his daughter's moments closely. Worry was etched on his face. “Madame de Sauveterre, I think I should call it a day. Sebile has been very active today and must be growing tired.”
“Heer Dederick, may I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

He had composed himself well in reaction to the question, he took his time to answer carefully. “Of course not, Madame de Sauveterre, why would you ask such a question?”
“Dederick, I am old, and in age you grow to become wise to the people and people around you. I have known you for several years. We are business acquaintances but I have always been aware of this wall between us, so I ask again, are you afraid of me? Please, be honest.”

Once more, he had composed himself well but Jennifer had caused a crack in his often steely defence, “Madame de Sauveterre, change is a process that takes many years and fear is a very strong word.”

Jennifer smiled, revealing a small flash of her teeth. “Dederick; all I desire is a cordial relationships with all my partners within the project. If you are at all wary of me, that is fine, I understand that some people have not yet come to terms with my kind, it's understandable. If you do feel this way, please, let me know and I will do whatever is possible to make you feel comfortable in my presence. We have known each other for several years now, you should not feel the need to step around on egg shells.”

“Madame de Sauveterre, I didn't mean to offend you.”

“And you haven't – in fact, I value your honesty.” The free hand of the vampire slowly climbed up along the arm of Dederick, fingers that ran across his fine suit with slow pace as to drink up the fine texture of the material that the richest of money could afford before coming to rest back-hand on his shoulder. “Heer Dederick,” Jennifer said, meeting her gaze with his, “I am not a threat, you have nothing to fear.” It was not statement, it was an instruction. Her hand then slipped from the shoulder of Dederick; who had an expression of someone trying to search for something he had just had moments ago. “Maybe you should take Sebile back to the Egyptian exhibit, I understand that she was too scared to go look at the mummy. Maybe her father could protect her better than I?” She suggested quickly with Dederick agreeing.

“Of course, Madame de Sauveterre. Thank you for engaging with my daughter, it was very kind of you.”

“It was my utmost pleasure, and please, call me Jennifer.”

I should be the very last vampire you should fear, mister Van Der Sar.

Thicker Than Water

Don't worry, still in and getting my post done for this evening. Sorry I didn't let you know sooner.

But thanks everyone for the well wishes, I hadn't expected that at all. ^^

Thicker Than Water

After a last week of being terribly sick. This was a nice read for the first day of recovery. ^^

Thicker Than Water

Name: Jennifer de Sauveterre
Gender: Female
Actual Age: 224 (Born; December 21st, 1790)
Physical Age: 24
Occupation: Purveyor of the arts and education
Nationality: French
Appearance: Clicky

Personality: The gift of an extended life came with an acute curiosity, knowledge, sexual, music, literature and the arts, a sense of freedom and liberation, Jennifer prefers to live in the moment. A bohemian type of vampire, Jennifer is wilful, freethinking and independent, with a sharp wit, soft smile, capable of displays of great kindness and generosity, Jennifer would like to think herself as a true vampire of the new world, alas she is also still very much a vampire of an old one also, despite her liberal tendencies, her egotism often puts her at odds with others, especially elder vampires – and while, respecting order and the golden rules of which all vampires are now expected to abide to – to see fit to instruct her or to order her, to even simply expect her to conform to a certain standard or ruling, is to draw her immediate ire. And she can hold a grudge for a very, very, long time.

Attitude to The Age of the Vampire: Jennifer has long lived amongst humans without negative repercussions – though, unaware of her vampirism – the Age of the Vampire was simply a long awaited sigh of relief from the annoyance of having to hide her most important aspect of herself. However, she is sceptical of the age all the same, as though it seems as if it is a golden age, the bubble will eventually burst.
Reason for being in Amsterdam: With a bustling scene of both vampire and human art and culture and education, it was a scene Jenn couldn't pass up. She is currently the foremost Vampire benefactor of art and education in Amsterdam.
Vampire Traits: Several years living amongst humans, long before the Age of the Vampire, allowed Jennifer to reign in her blood lust. However, she is incredibly picky as to whose blood she is drinking, preferring the blood of intellectuals and artists, importing her own vintages – whilst not much of a fighter, to humans in particular (and lesser vampires), can come off as incredibly alluring, Jennifer would typically in her nature chalk this up this her charm but she is aware that this ability is for more attributed to her powers.

Status: Fledged
Sire Name: Albert Ogthoven
Sire Details: Once, Jennifer and her sire had been close. Though she would no longer admit to it, she had once loved him. Her connection to her sire was so strong, her jealously of his other progenies often put their lives at risk if she caught any inkling of their attempts to gain the favour of Albert over her. However, over the years, as she grew more independent and his number of progenies grew – Jennifer and Albert eventually separated. With no contact between the pair for nearly a hundred years, their mental link is less than stellar.
Progeny: Though she has nearly sired her own progeny on more than one occasion, Jennifer has gone through life thus far without a single progeny.

History: Jennifer remembers her early humans years surrounded by social strife and imperialistic wars across Europe. All, largely, originating from her homeland of France. She grew up during the age of the Revolution and was witness to the rise of Napoleon Bonaparte, who would take her four brothers and father from her to serve in La Grande Armée, which came to a staggering and spectacular halt in Russia. She was twenty-four by time the wars finally came to an end with Napoleons' final defeat at the Battle of Waterloo, living alone with her mother, a country still devastated by the numerous wars, were rather an oddity for their times, being women of common birth ran what was once their father's inn, a popular destination for travellers and locals, the pair garnered some relative power and stature in their town. However, beyond this, Jennifer would seem to be another character of history with no other noticeable causes or impact on the world. Or, so she thought. Living close to the borders of what would become modern Belgium and Germany, men, especially soldiers, would come and go on regular occurrence – the night the man arrived however, she felt a difference. A difference which would become apparent after their night together and with it a whole new world awoke for her.

Weak like all progenies from the beginning, she soon adapted well to her new found lifestyle and initially; Jennifer was fiercely loyal to her sire, falling in love with him in the process. Even though Albert would sire other progenies, ones she was insanely jealous over, she would go to great lengths to ensure none of them would come to usurp her place. Of course, time passes and people, even vampires, slowly begin to drift apart.

Jennifer's own curiosity of the world as she grew into her strength began to grow with her; the opposite sex, the same sex, art and music and poetry, Jennifer began to detach gradually from her sire, her personalty becoming more desiring of personal liberties and freedoms, Jennifer entered what some could argue was a stage of vampire rebellion. She would venture to Paris, Milan, Rome, Vienna, even far as the Ottoman Empire to visit places of art and culture, dabbling with the great minds of Europe, several of which became lovers – for months at a time she would leave, barely informing her sire of where she was going or what she was doing, before abruptly returning again, unaccounted and expecting life to continue as normal. It was upon her return from one of these ventures, after a furious night, the pair finally went their separate way, with him staying in the Netherlands and Jennifer leaving for America, where, she has spent the majority of her life since; avoiding vampires whenever she could, she attempted to reintegrate herself back into human society, though it would take an incredible amount of willpower to overcome her lust for blood, which she had almost unlimited access too, she soon adapted, finding ways to acquire it without causing suspicion or panic. L.A, New York, Chicago, San Francisco, Seattle, Canada, across to Asia, back to Europe, Jennifer mingled with the art world, becoming a patron of many famous artists and writers, a keen supporter of cinema and music; a world that she enjoyed and made her happy.

Then other Vampires decided to reveal themselves to the world, bursting her bubble. At first this was an annoying reminder of her fellow kind, then that annoyance became a relief as she longer had to hide or sulk around for blood. She was also first to jump on the resulting art scene of the so-called, “Age of the Vampire.”

At the start of the millennium, Jennifer left America to travel to a destination she had long avoided; Amsterdam. The metropolis of the new world. Jennifer made her visits on and off, uncommon but enough to be noticed. However, with the construction of one of her own pet projects, she has decided to make a permanent stay within the city, and, to pop in on a few old faces.

Other Details: Jennifer is the chief patron of The Voltaire. A high profile art gallery and museum open to the public in central Amsterdam, it is also known for its extensive library and study centre, making it a popular destination for both students and tourists.

Beyond the Boundaries RP

Working on my sheet now.

The Trauma Ward

Simply incredible!