Post by gabriel on Apr 4, 2013 0:45:10 GMT 1
Name: Gabriel Nicolas de Lioncourt
Age: 12
Birthday: October 12th, 1992
Nicknames: None
Personality: Quiet, shy, responsible, passive, nice, I'm slow to anger but when it spreads like a wildfire.
Hobbies: I really enjoy sketching and painting portraits.
Powers: Umm. Well...I can move things by just thinking sometimes...but only my sister knows that.
Physical description: Straight dark brown hair, brown eyes, slender frame, and long limed like my sister.
Height: 4'11
Location: New Orleans, Louisiana
Place of birth: Savannah, Georgia
Family: Rosaleen de Lioncourt (younger twin sister), Lucy Dawson/Gretchen (mother), Lestat de Lioncourt (father), David Talbot (father), Gabrielle de Lioncourt (Grandmother)
My sister Rosaleen (she likes to go by Rosie), and I had a very wonderful childhood with just our loving mother by our side. She cared greatly for us and we loved her in return. Unfortunately her job as a secretary or sorts for the Talamasca, which I think is some international business company, caused her to travel to London, Rome, and Amsterdam. Rosie and I always wanted to come to but we never let Mom know that. Another thing Rosie and I never let Mom know about was my being able to move things if I concentrated on them hard enough with my thoughts. Somehow I always got the feeling that telling our Mom of my phenomenon would frighten her but why I felt that I way I have no clue. It probably has something to do with all of the secrets our mother has. Sometimes I would catch her muttering stuff about her once being smothered in darkness and that she had to keep our light safe from some demons that could harm us. Whenever she would say those things I would get too scared to ask her what she meant.
I can say now that Mom was wrong. Darkness did follow me and my sister. Our mother died instantly in a car crash last night. Some man we didn't know from Mom's workplace picked us up at the house to take us to where our father was in London. I was, and still am, apprehensive about meeting this man. Mom would play little games with us, giving us clues like a postcard from New Orleans and say things like: "You're father would love that city." so I have no idea what to expect. My sister and I arrived with this stranger to a fancy mansion called a Motherhouse. He directed us to a small parlor and told us to wait there. It seemed our father was causing quite a ruckus. Maybe he was angry about our Mom's death, or maybe he was angry about us for some reason. Then while sitting there I began to wonder aloud about Mom and all that she might have hidden from us. Rosie heard me and a conversation of theories passed between us. I was so glad when Rosie decided that we should stop talking about it. I felt horrible, whatever Mom had kept from us I'm sure she had a good reason. Rosie then got up and suggested we look around. I timidly told her we should stay put. Our father could be coming out with Mr. Oliver any minute and getting scolded wasn't how I wanted to make a first impression. Rosie laughed off my worries and I reluctantly followed her. Even though I'm the oldest Rosie is more adventurous than me, so I had to follow her and protect her. We wandered aimlessly down a hallway full of offices. The books in there looked like they could be interesting, Rosie fleetingly thought so too but then she saw something apparently even better. She clasped my hand and we rushed to the end of the hallway where a dust great grandfather clock stood looking abandoned but majestic at the same time. Rosie then got the brilliant idea to fix it. Fix it? We had no idea how to even do that! I told her this but she waved those excuses off. I grabbed her hand and tried to convince her to come sit back in the parlor with me. The real reason I wanted to go back wasn't because we couldn't fix the thing, which we probably couldn't, but because I sensed that there was something unusual about it, something bad. I don't think my sister has that instinctive feeling about danger. As I stood there contemplating Rosie's silliness she opened the glass part of the clock and was discovered we could probably fit comfortably inside. Knowing that she was going to test her theory out whether I protested or not, I decided to follow her lead. After she had stepped in I closed the glass part of the clock. We stood together holding hands. She was right. It was nice in here, except for all the dust. I smiled at Rosie. This was kind of neat. Despite being different Roise and I are actually close. As we stood inside the clock grinning a loud noise like a train filled the tiny space. We clamped our hands over our ears but the sound just couldn't be blocked. God, it hurt! Then we started to feel like we were spinning, faster and faster we moved, or at least I think we moved. I felt so disoriented I really can't say for sure. Just when my sister and I thought our torment would never end it all was still. I suddenly found myself planted on a street on my stomach with my sister on top of me. I gently eased her off my back. Rosie and I have come to the agreement that we must have been in New Orleans. Our mother has given us may lovely descriptions about it. Now my sister and I are stuck in a strange city, feeling confused and orphaned.
Age: 12
Birthday: October 12th, 1992
Nicknames: None
Personality: Quiet, shy, responsible, passive, nice, I'm slow to anger but when it spreads like a wildfire.
Hobbies: I really enjoy sketching and painting portraits.
Powers: Umm. Well...I can move things by just thinking sometimes...but only my sister knows that.
Physical description: Straight dark brown hair, brown eyes, slender frame, and long limed like my sister.
Height: 4'11
Location: New Orleans, Louisiana
Place of birth: Savannah, Georgia
Family: Rosaleen de Lioncourt (younger twin sister), Lucy Dawson/Gretchen (mother), Lestat de Lioncourt (father), David Talbot (father), Gabrielle de Lioncourt (Grandmother)
My sister Rosaleen (she likes to go by Rosie), and I had a very wonderful childhood with just our loving mother by our side. She cared greatly for us and we loved her in return. Unfortunately her job as a secretary or sorts for the Talamasca, which I think is some international business company, caused her to travel to London, Rome, and Amsterdam. Rosie and I always wanted to come to but we never let Mom know that. Another thing Rosie and I never let Mom know about was my being able to move things if I concentrated on them hard enough with my thoughts. Somehow I always got the feeling that telling our Mom of my phenomenon would frighten her but why I felt that I way I have no clue. It probably has something to do with all of the secrets our mother has. Sometimes I would catch her muttering stuff about her once being smothered in darkness and that she had to keep our light safe from some demons that could harm us. Whenever she would say those things I would get too scared to ask her what she meant.
I can say now that Mom was wrong. Darkness did follow me and my sister. Our mother died instantly in a car crash last night. Some man we didn't know from Mom's workplace picked us up at the house to take us to where our father was in London. I was, and still am, apprehensive about meeting this man. Mom would play little games with us, giving us clues like a postcard from New Orleans and say things like: "You're father would love that city." so I have no idea what to expect. My sister and I arrived with this stranger to a fancy mansion called a Motherhouse. He directed us to a small parlor and told us to wait there. It seemed our father was causing quite a ruckus. Maybe he was angry about our Mom's death, or maybe he was angry about us for some reason. Then while sitting there I began to wonder aloud about Mom and all that she might have hidden from us. Rosie heard me and a conversation of theories passed between us. I was so glad when Rosie decided that we should stop talking about it. I felt horrible, whatever Mom had kept from us I'm sure she had a good reason. Rosie then got up and suggested we look around. I timidly told her we should stay put. Our father could be coming out with Mr. Oliver any minute and getting scolded wasn't how I wanted to make a first impression. Rosie laughed off my worries and I reluctantly followed her. Even though I'm the oldest Rosie is more adventurous than me, so I had to follow her and protect her. We wandered aimlessly down a hallway full of offices. The books in there looked like they could be interesting, Rosie fleetingly thought so too but then she saw something apparently even better. She clasped my hand and we rushed to the end of the hallway where a dust great grandfather clock stood looking abandoned but majestic at the same time. Rosie then got the brilliant idea to fix it. Fix it? We had no idea how to even do that! I told her this but she waved those excuses off. I grabbed her hand and tried to convince her to come sit back in the parlor with me. The real reason I wanted to go back wasn't because we couldn't fix the thing, which we probably couldn't, but because I sensed that there was something unusual about it, something bad. I don't think my sister has that instinctive feeling about danger. As I stood there contemplating Rosie's silliness she opened the glass part of the clock and was discovered we could probably fit comfortably inside. Knowing that she was going to test her theory out whether I protested or not, I decided to follow her lead. After she had stepped in I closed the glass part of the clock. We stood together holding hands. She was right. It was nice in here, except for all the dust. I smiled at Rosie. This was kind of neat. Despite being different Roise and I are actually close. As we stood inside the clock grinning a loud noise like a train filled the tiny space. We clamped our hands over our ears but the sound just couldn't be blocked. God, it hurt! Then we started to feel like we were spinning, faster and faster we moved, or at least I think we moved. I felt so disoriented I really can't say for sure. Just when my sister and I thought our torment would never end it all was still. I suddenly found myself planted on a street on my stomach with my sister on top of me. I gently eased her off my back. Rosie and I have come to the agreement that we must have been in New Orleans. Our mother has given us may lovely descriptions about it. Now my sister and I are stuck in a strange city, feeling confused and orphaned.