| Jessica Louise Belmonte
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| On Game As:
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Jessie
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| Played By:
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Sara Fabel
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| Concept:
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The World's Playwright
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| Date of Birth:
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August 3rd, 1952
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| Apparent Age:
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Mid Twenties
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| Occupation:
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Ringmaster, Author
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| Virtue:
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Charity
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| Vice:
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Deceit
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| Freehold:
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None
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| Motley:
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None
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| Seeming:
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Fairest
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| Kith:
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Muse Author
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| Court:
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Winter
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| Entitlement:
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Duchy of the Icebound Heart
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| Keeper:
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The Stultified Puppeteer
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“Your heart won't survive the encounter. That's why it's called a "crush".”
– J.L. Belmonte
Overview
The only tattoo that doesn't change is on her collarbone. Written in Latin it means, "Blessed are the brokenhearted." There's a reason it's the only facet that remains true in a mien of forever changing stories.
RP Hooks
The Painted Lady - The tattoos decorating Jessica's body are unique. To those who can see her mien they are forever changing to tell a tale of the surrounding world.
Let's See the World - Forested parks, beaten paths. Loud clubs and late night dips in lakes. She doesn't choose places for their safety but for the potential to see a story unfold. The world hasn't ceased to be fascinating since she escaped.
The Ringmaster - Jessie is hostess and storyteller for a circus in the area. She captivates the crowd as she spins a tale for every new attraction
Life is But a Game - If Jessica is involved nothing remains boring for long. Every story must build to a climax. Chaos follows in her wake if nothing else will do to bring a bit of excitement.
To Each Thing Its Trope - Everyone has their story and each story can be categorized. The author sees the world through a lens and then the world conforms. What category do you fall into?
Contacts
Kara - Beatus qui convertitis scelerati. Blessed are the villains.
"Jack" Rummel - You own the stage but I control the show.
Gallery
Soundtrack
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Blank Space Postmodern Jukebox
- It's okay, let's be friends.
- I'm dying to see how this one ends.
- Grab your passport and my hand.
- I can make the bad boys good for a weekend.
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You're Still Here Poets of the Fall
- Mercury dances in its skyscraper cell,
- Rising and falling in harmony.
- And I feel winter stealing my days,
- To herald another creation.
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Logs
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