Bete Noire app, WIP
1. Player Information
Name (or internet handle): Corinne
Current characters in Bete Noire: None
2. Character Information
Name: Anita 'Needy' Lesnicki
Livejournal Username: shes_a_kicker
Fandom: Jennifer's Body (film)
Image: This one.
3. Character Information II
Age/Appearance: Nineteen years old, with pale eyes and long blond hair. Has a large scar on her upper back, another long one on the underside of her upper right arm, and one more on her right shoulder by her neck - this one looks distinctly and obviously like teethmarks. The scars are typically covered by clothing.
She can be pretty, even striking when she cleans up, but for the most part she seems to care little about her appearance. She's of petite frame and average build, which would lead most to assume not to take her as much of a threat. But there's something about her eyes, at times, that hints they might just be wrong...
History: via the Wikipedia
Personality:
Needy started out sweet, quiet and kind of shy. Really rough and strange circumstances forced her to become very different very fast - it turns out, underneath her kind of fluffy exterior, she was a determined fighter and survivor just waiting to be tapped into. This fast change of character has made her both withdrawn and a little unstable, mentally and emotionally.
She's lost everyone she ever cared about, was put through hell by people who wouldn't listen to her, and has killed a few people. As a result she's cynical and blunt, more than capable of crossing over to nasty and even violent. Almost nothing scares her anymore, because she's seen a lot go down. She's watched too many people die to react to bad things happening with any more than "So?" - practical to the point of coldness and being self-centered. She's got kind of a grim sense of humor.
She'll do what she thinks is necessary and won't look for or even care about other people's judgement, because she's in something of a survival mode and knows she can trust herself while just about everyone else she's ever trusted has failed her. She really doesn't like people underestimating her or getting in her way and won't react well to people who try to control her (in any form, direct or indirect) and every authority figure she ever encountered turned out to be completely useless, so she assumes all are, and to put it lightly is annoyed by them.
When she has a set goal in mind she is very impatient, but right now she has nothing to lose but also nothing to live for - she's drifting. Her outer persona will make reaching out to her difficult, but for someone willing to try the reward will be worth it, because Needy's friendlier impulses have been buried deep but haven't gone away completely. Right now she cares about nothing, but if she could be given something to care about again, she would protect it with loyalty because that's the kind of friend she's always been.
Sexual Preferences/Orientation:
Needy had a minimal sex life; she had one boyfriend who she was in a monogamous relationship with. Because of how jaded she's become she now views sex more cynically and casually, as a kind of currency rather than something meaningful. That doesn't change the fact that she's still mostly unexperienced: if approached initially, some of her old insecure shyness would probably first emerge. With more time and experience, though, she could very easily become someone who uses sex, even sensuality as a tool. But first she'd need to learn the ropes.
Needy primarily identifies as straight, but she also had something of a girlcrush on her best friend that began crossing the line over into erotic. She would be far more likely to engage in a casual encounter with a man, but under the right circumstances she could become interested in a woman.
Oh, and then there's that whole possibly turning into a sex demon thing.
Powers:
Needy was bitten by a demon, specifically a succubus that had come back in the form of her best friend. As a result she gained some of its abilities: superhuman strength, levitation, enhanced senses (smell, hearing, night vision). Because of the otherworldly nature of her abilities, it's also likely if around other supernatural beings (werewolves, vampires, etc) she can sense something...off about them. Not identify them on sight, but can definitely tell something.
The demonic ability to seduce and the need to feed on human flesh were not initially passed on by the succubus' bite to Needy. But as time passes and the city begins to draw on her darker nature, that may very well change...
Reason for playing: Yeah, so...Jennifer's Body is sorta one of those films you feel ashamed to admit you liked. But I actually liked it. And I especially liked Needy, how she went from quiet and meek at the beginning to the kind of person who was ready to jump through a window with a boxcutter to stab a muderous demon with her best friend's face in the heart. I loved the character she became by the very end, this confident determined near-sociopath with superpowers. I found myself wishing I could see Needy's story continued after the end of the film, see what adventures she got up to next. So, this is my way of trying to tap into that a little.
Plus I think the character has a lot of elements about her that'll really make her fun and interesting to RP and see interact with other characters. She can hold her own so she won't get lost or overwhelmed in an environment like Bete Noire, she's a little unstable but not so crazy she'll become difficult to play, and she has a lot of issues in her backstory that can be toyed around with. There are a lot of different ways Needy could go at this point, and I'm really excited to see what I can make happen.
5. Samples
First-Person:
I look back on the person I used to be, and I cringe.
Pretty typical, right? Something happens, you end up a bit tougher, a bit smarter and grittier, and when you take a glance over at the person you used to be beforehand, well, they kind of seem like a wuss. A fucking pansy, who hasn't got a clue. You kinda wanna laugh at them. After all, it's what you'd do if the 'you' you are now met someone who was the 'you' you were then. You'd make fun of them. Probably push them around just to show you could, kick dirt in their face and call them names. Shit like that.
We want to distance ourselves from our past. I don't know whether it's we don't like to admit people can change or we just don't like looking backward, but it's kind of programmed. Like salmon swimming upstream or flocks of birds all heading in one direction, or the way people don't talk on elevators.
Thing is, I don't just feel embarassed when I look back at the Needy Lesnicki of yore. All hopeful and smiley, kind of shy, quiet; the kind of girl who didn't want to drink underage and said "cheese and fries" instead of cussing. It sounds lame...but I sort of miss being that girl. I miss being able to be naive and just...happy.
I'm not really sure what kind of person I am now. A darker one, sure. A pretty messed up one. But other than that, I don't know. The thing is, I don't really care.
And that's the part that kind of scares me.
Third-Person:
After the hotel, she keeps walking.
Doesn't run, doesn't try to hide. Just heads on down the road in a straight line, following at first the main streets and then the highway leading out of town.
Considering she just killed five guys and all, there are probably a lot of other things she should do. Change her clothes. Try to hole up somewhere. Maybe even try to find some way to establish an alibi. She knows the drill: she's seen CSI.
But she doesn't do any of that. She didn't even make much of an attempt not to be seen in the first place - not that she wasn't easy to overlook, being the only thing within five miles with ovaries that wasn't going crazy for the band boys. There were probably cameras at the hotel or something. It's pretty likely they're gonna have a picture of her on one of them. She wasn't trying to avoid them.
Not that she wants to get caught or anything. She'd really prefer not to, in fact, if given the choice. The last couple months caged up at Leech Lake Institute weren't exactly fun vacation times, and in truth she's really enjoying being able to move freely again.
But, if the cops come looking for her, she doesn't really care enough to give them a hard time. Besides, she's already got precedent for an insanity defense, right? You may have heard of me, Officers. The one who killed another girl by stabbing her in the chest with a box-cutter? Yeah, I know; those photos on the news didn't do me justice. They always caught me on my wrong side.
It's because she doesn't feel any guilt, she decides. The guilty ones always run. They're the ones that try to cover up their crimes. But she doesn't feel the least bit of remorse for killing Low Shoulder. In her mind, it's not even murder; murder is something that happens to people who don't deserve to die. They were assholes. They killed her best friend for a record contract, and they started this whole mess.
It kind of feels like justice. In any case, it feels pretty damn satisfying. A hell of a lot better than beating up that old guy for her clothes did.
(Relax - she didn't hurt him. Much. But he brought it on himself, thinking he could get away with the Grandpa Pervert act on what he thought was a helpless young hitchhiker.)
But in any case, the police don't come after her. There are no sirens and lights in the distance heading her way. She keeps walking and walking, and they still don't show.
She doesn't know where she's headed. She can't go home - if she could call Devil's Kettle ‘home’ still, after what happened - there's nothing left for her there. It's not like she knows anywhere else to go.
She just keeps walking. The road seems to go on forever, miles and miles of it. All dark, twisty and damp. No cars pass by, and there's no other soul to be seen. The sun slowly sets overhead.
Just after nightfall, she finally finds herself at a place. A city. A big city, bigger than she's ever seen before, at least not on TV or something.
She looks around. The whole place seems kind of rundown. Seedy. There's something unsettling about it - like every last square inch of it gives off a kind of unfriendly vibe.
Well, you know what? thinks Needy. Bring it on. She can take it.
So. What now?
Third-Person #2:
No more Jennifer means no more hiding her tits. She can show all the cleavage she wants to.
Good thing, because the top she’s wearing right now? Ain’t hiding much.
Needy tugs her bustier, more fidgeting than adjusting it. It wasn’t hard to find the stuff she’s got on: tight black jeans, dark lipstick, dark nail polish. Grade-A hooker gear.
(She’s not going to try and get away with calling herself an ‘escort’. She’s not some classy uptown debutante fallen on hard times. Call it like it is: she’s a girl in need of money and going about the fastest way to get it. Needy doesn’t believe in sugarcoating.)
She knows she should probably try to sell it more. Act all sultry. But when she looks at her reflection in the dirty mirror across the bar, she can’t do ‘sultry’. Not feeling it.
She feels more like a diamond: all hard and cold, with sharp edges that can cut right through glass.
But the cold-eyed, hard-edges type is what some guys want. Before long one’s breathing in her ear, his hands all over her; buying her another drink without her even having to ask.
He’s already had a few himself - he reeks like alcohol and he’s in serious need of a shave. His stubble grates on her skin the wrong way while he’s tonguing and sucking at her neck. He smells like all the wrong kinds of ‘manly’ odors, sweat and smoking and dirt.
But Needy figures he could be worse things and pretends she’s into it. Lets him slip his hands into that area between her low-cut jeans and the back of her bustier, feeling her skin. He has rough hands, calloused. They feel hot where they touch her.
He cups her ass and she leans forward, chest pushing into him purposefully, and he actually stops groping her just because he’s so distracted staring at her tits. She moves one leg and her thigh brushes his.
She kisses him all sloppy, tongue slipping in more places than it should, tasting his mouth full of booze and ash. He grins - she knew he’d like it like that. He seemed the type.
“You are so fucking hot,” he rasps. Slurs, more than a little. She just smiles, parting her lips to show him her teeth.
He’s leaning into her and she can feel the hardness of his dick digging into her leg. She’s a little repulsed. She doesn’t even know this guy but he’s the total package: loser at a dive bar, all skanky and gross.
But it’s just sex - that’s what she keeps telling herself: it’s just sex. She doesn’t have to pretend to love him, or even that she likes it. She just has to let him do what he wants, which is hopefully fuck her quick and dirty in the restroom. Then she’ll collect her fee and leave. Rent’s due. Eventually she’s gotta eat.
And anyway, if he gets out of line and actually tries to hurt her, or wants to do something that’s too much for her to handle, she can always just break his arm and take his wallet instead.
(