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dr_lucrecia_c's Journal
Created on 2006-04-26 07:13:15 (#10113355), last updated 2006-10-13
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Basic Info| Name: | Dr. Lucrecia Crescent |
|---|
Bio~~ User Lookup / Sample Application ~~
Player Name: D
Email Address: dvlsdghtr@hotmail.com
AIM Screen Name: cheshire katt eq / Lu the Doctor
Character Name: Dr. Lucrecia Crescent
Series: Final Fantasy VII
Age: 23
Physical Description: Long honey-brown hair falls to Lucrecia's mid-thighs when it's allowed to flow freely, but most of the time she wears it tied back in a high ponytail, the shorter and more stylized hair inevitably escaping to frame her face nicely. She has a pointed chin and a small nose, and her refined features, soft brown eyes, and delicately arched eyebrows lend an unmistakable air of the aristocracy to her. She is short, 5'6" in no shoes, though the rather impractical--and therefore blatantly rich--high heels that are so in fashion lend her a good three inches. Fine-boned and slight, Lucrecia only escapes looking underfed through the definite curves that aren't too diminished by her small and cheerfully-colored manner of dress, the sleek and rather close-fitting clothes serving to afford her stature--which is the only thing she ever really feels self-conscious about--the illusion of additional height. Rather proud of her labcoat, which falls to her calves and also serves to make her look taller, Lucrecia often wears it wears it around town, though she is often seen in a sleek and fitted tailcoat which hugs her trim figure in an almost frustratingly delightful way.
Personality: Wickedly intelligent, Lucrecia learned from a very young age that acting innocent and being guilty made good bedfellows. Though she's cunning and takes delight in absorbing every detail of every facet of everything, Lucrecia is rarely as subversive as she could be. With a slight grudge against the male population as a whole, which had always suggested that she tuck her intelligence away to focus on being a homemaker someday, Lucrecia usually only manipulates men, using the beauty she is almost too aware she has to procure what she wants from an otherwise unwieldy and uncooperative populace. Determined to be a brilliant success partly, but not only, to spite the aristocracy's male constituency, Lucrecia poured herself into her studies, acquiring her doctorate in biology shortly after reaching the age of twenty-three. Though not derisive of the male scholars around her, Lucrecia can't help but dislike them a little, and she enjoys toying with them a bit while still maintaining the appearance of total innocence, her own miniature revenges. As an only child, Lucrecia is rather spoiled, and like most members of the aristocracy is adept at the bob and weave of politics, quite good at the dangerous game of wits and secrets that keeps Azhun alive. With manipulation on her side and the natural-born distrust of everyone that life in Azhun breeds, Lucrecia is rarely genuine and has no true friends to speak of, though she has countless who are "very dear to her."
Strengths: Intellect, beauty, mastery of politics, and a vast inheritance.
Weaknesses: Lucrecia is very fond of alcohol. She isn't miserable, but her life has left something to be desired, and she chooses to drown her discontentment in booze rather than men. When drunk, Lucrecia is, obviously, much less adept at the manipulation and politics she'd mastered from a young age, and she has a tendency to accidentally say things she shouldn't, with or without realizing her mistake right after.
History: Born an only child to obscenely wealthy parents, her father one of the highest and most powerful officials in the city, Lucrecia found absolutely nothing wanting from her childhood except, perhaps, honesty and acceptance. Taught vigorously by privately hired professors, Lucrecia hardly even saw other children, let alone befriended them, though really, the same could be said of almost every other child of the aristocracy. With no friends and nothing but her studies to entertain her--which never held her interest for long, as her professors insisted on explaining concepts after she'd already grasped them--Lucrecia discovered the wonderful world of eavesdropping and quickly began to observe the political discussions held quite often at her home and watch her father in action. He was an amazing debater, orator, and skilled at rhetoric. Her childhood was spent baffling her professors with how quickly her female mind understood concepts and watching from the shadows as her father danced proverbial circles around his adversaries. Soon she, too, became adept at the dance, and the triumphant day at age thirteen when she bested him in a debate made her proud for days, though later introspection led her to believe the man had allowed her to win.
At age fifteen, Lucrecia, having finished with both primary and secondary schooling, petitioned her father to allow her to attend university; he declined, though it broke his heart to refuse her. He didn't want his young daughter to go off to a school full of men--she wasn't even a debutante yet! When she petitioned him again less than a week later, he conceded, but instead of sending her to university, he brought the university to her. Her father hired a professor to school her in any subject she desired to pursue, and in three years she'd managed to accrue enough to petition for a Bachelor's in Biology.
For an irritating month and a half her education ground to a screeching halt as she reached her eighteenth year and prepared for her Debutante ball. Her opinions were asked on the most unimportant things, from the shade of the upholstery on the chairs to line the ballroom walls to the texture of the foie gras pate--but no one ever asked her if she wanted the blasted ball in the first place. Fitted into a lovely white dress which clung to every sultry curve her slight body had to offer--she could hardly breathe in the thing, which was apparently beside the point--Lucrecia was introduced to the eligible males of the city and danced, as was policy, with every man who asked. If a single man that night hadn't asked her, she'd have been surprised, but the one useful thing she'd discovered that night was the simple elegance with which an expertly portrayed curve and a few carefully-chosen and casually-commented words could reduce a willful man into a compliant tool. Her father would have been proud.
The next day, with the debutante ball finally over, she petitioned her father to allow her to attend graduate school and earn her doctorate. Without a good excuse to keep her at home and unable to withstand her arguments, whether because she had finally bested him at debate or through the soft heart afforded by fatherly love, he agreed, and she was accepted reluctantly into a graduate school, which seemed quite sullen at the prospect of a woman in their midst. Four uneventful years later, Lucrecia earned her doctorate and returned home, leaving a lot of elegantly rejected men behind her. She'd never so much as kissed a man, and frankly, she didn't intend to. They all treated her as if the cosmos were simply humoring her, and as if the university hadn't accepted her on her own merit. Though she tactfully never let them know how they irritated her, Lucrecia had long grown to resent their rather patronizing comments and womanizing sentiments, and though many dates had transpired, not a single one of them had ended in a second.
Returning home with a newly received degree and a slew of disappointed men and possibly broken hearts in her wake, Lucrecia was greeted by a loving father and an invalid mother who was slowly dwindling into death. Though she had never been close to her mother, the news of her condition elicited the proper polite grief that Lucrecia was expected to feel, though she was in all honesty more affected by her father's sorrow than her mothers impending demise. With a doctorate in biology and the confidence that comes from never once finding herself insufficient, Lucrecia decided to find some solution to her mother's illness through science. The only problem was finding a proper laboratory.
III. After a few drinks in a bar, you notice a rather shady-looking figure watching you from the shadows of the corner. He raises a finger and beckons you with the slightest twitch of his hand.
With a graceful ease and a genial smile that never would have rested so easily on her features if she were sober, Lucrecia slowly rose to her feet, draping her black tailcoat over her arm and then leaning on the bar casually, sipping her drink once before glancing back at the figure with a rather interested smile. She was always much more social when she was tipsy. Instead of walking over to the figure, she simply stood leaning on the bar, and she inclined her head in his direction, signaling for him to come to her.
They always did. And if he didn't... But they always did.
When the figure didn't leap from his seat to join her, she frowned, sipping at her drink again and puzzling a bit. This then, perhaps, wasn't one of those usual advances. Pushing off from the bar and taking her drink in one hand, her tailcoat in the other, she walked casually over to him, her gait swaying a bit more than necessary, though it was actually a bit difficult to tell if she was attempting to display her curves or if she was simply a bit more inebriated than she should have been. Sitting across from him in the corner in a manner that she realized a few moments too late was exceedingly trusting, she prompted, "Well?"
Player Name: D
Email Address: dvlsdghtr@hotmail.com
AIM Screen Name: cheshire katt eq / Lu the Doctor
Character Name: Dr. Lucrecia Crescent
Series: Final Fantasy VII
Age: 23
Physical Description: Long honey-brown hair falls to Lucrecia's mid-thighs when it's allowed to flow freely, but most of the time she wears it tied back in a high ponytail, the shorter and more stylized hair inevitably escaping to frame her face nicely. She has a pointed chin and a small nose, and her refined features, soft brown eyes, and delicately arched eyebrows lend an unmistakable air of the aristocracy to her. She is short, 5'6" in no shoes, though the rather impractical--and therefore blatantly rich--high heels that are so in fashion lend her a good three inches. Fine-boned and slight, Lucrecia only escapes looking underfed through the definite curves that aren't too diminished by her small and cheerfully-colored manner of dress, the sleek and rather close-fitting clothes serving to afford her stature--which is the only thing she ever really feels self-conscious about--the illusion of additional height. Rather proud of her labcoat, which falls to her calves and also serves to make her look taller, Lucrecia often wears it wears it around town, though she is often seen in a sleek and fitted tailcoat which hugs her trim figure in an almost frustratingly delightful way.
Personality: Wickedly intelligent, Lucrecia learned from a very young age that acting innocent and being guilty made good bedfellows. Though she's cunning and takes delight in absorbing every detail of every facet of everything, Lucrecia is rarely as subversive as she could be. With a slight grudge against the male population as a whole, which had always suggested that she tuck her intelligence away to focus on being a homemaker someday, Lucrecia usually only manipulates men, using the beauty she is almost too aware she has to procure what she wants from an otherwise unwieldy and uncooperative populace. Determined to be a brilliant success partly, but not only, to spite the aristocracy's male constituency, Lucrecia poured herself into her studies, acquiring her doctorate in biology shortly after reaching the age of twenty-three. Though not derisive of the male scholars around her, Lucrecia can't help but dislike them a little, and she enjoys toying with them a bit while still maintaining the appearance of total innocence, her own miniature revenges. As an only child, Lucrecia is rather spoiled, and like most members of the aristocracy is adept at the bob and weave of politics, quite good at the dangerous game of wits and secrets that keeps Azhun alive. With manipulation on her side and the natural-born distrust of everyone that life in Azhun breeds, Lucrecia is rarely genuine and has no true friends to speak of, though she has countless who are "very dear to her."
Strengths: Intellect, beauty, mastery of politics, and a vast inheritance.
Weaknesses: Lucrecia is very fond of alcohol. She isn't miserable, but her life has left something to be desired, and she chooses to drown her discontentment in booze rather than men. When drunk, Lucrecia is, obviously, much less adept at the manipulation and politics she'd mastered from a young age, and she has a tendency to accidentally say things she shouldn't, with or without realizing her mistake right after.
History: Born an only child to obscenely wealthy parents, her father one of the highest and most powerful officials in the city, Lucrecia found absolutely nothing wanting from her childhood except, perhaps, honesty and acceptance. Taught vigorously by privately hired professors, Lucrecia hardly even saw other children, let alone befriended them, though really, the same could be said of almost every other child of the aristocracy. With no friends and nothing but her studies to entertain her--which never held her interest for long, as her professors insisted on explaining concepts after she'd already grasped them--Lucrecia discovered the wonderful world of eavesdropping and quickly began to observe the political discussions held quite often at her home and watch her father in action. He was an amazing debater, orator, and skilled at rhetoric. Her childhood was spent baffling her professors with how quickly her female mind understood concepts and watching from the shadows as her father danced proverbial circles around his adversaries. Soon she, too, became adept at the dance, and the triumphant day at age thirteen when she bested him in a debate made her proud for days, though later introspection led her to believe the man had allowed her to win.
At age fifteen, Lucrecia, having finished with both primary and secondary schooling, petitioned her father to allow her to attend university; he declined, though it broke his heart to refuse her. He didn't want his young daughter to go off to a school full of men--she wasn't even a debutante yet! When she petitioned him again less than a week later, he conceded, but instead of sending her to university, he brought the university to her. Her father hired a professor to school her in any subject she desired to pursue, and in three years she'd managed to accrue enough to petition for a Bachelor's in Biology.
For an irritating month and a half her education ground to a screeching halt as she reached her eighteenth year and prepared for her Debutante ball. Her opinions were asked on the most unimportant things, from the shade of the upholstery on the chairs to line the ballroom walls to the texture of the foie gras pate--but no one ever asked her if she wanted the blasted ball in the first place. Fitted into a lovely white dress which clung to every sultry curve her slight body had to offer--she could hardly breathe in the thing, which was apparently beside the point--Lucrecia was introduced to the eligible males of the city and danced, as was policy, with every man who asked. If a single man that night hadn't asked her, she'd have been surprised, but the one useful thing she'd discovered that night was the simple elegance with which an expertly portrayed curve and a few carefully-chosen and casually-commented words could reduce a willful man into a compliant tool. Her father would have been proud.
The next day, with the debutante ball finally over, she petitioned her father to allow her to attend graduate school and earn her doctorate. Without a good excuse to keep her at home and unable to withstand her arguments, whether because she had finally bested him at debate or through the soft heart afforded by fatherly love, he agreed, and she was accepted reluctantly into a graduate school, which seemed quite sullen at the prospect of a woman in their midst. Four uneventful years later, Lucrecia earned her doctorate and returned home, leaving a lot of elegantly rejected men behind her. She'd never so much as kissed a man, and frankly, she didn't intend to. They all treated her as if the cosmos were simply humoring her, and as if the university hadn't accepted her on her own merit. Though she tactfully never let them know how they irritated her, Lucrecia had long grown to resent their rather patronizing comments and womanizing sentiments, and though many dates had transpired, not a single one of them had ended in a second.
Returning home with a newly received degree and a slew of disappointed men and possibly broken hearts in her wake, Lucrecia was greeted by a loving father and an invalid mother who was slowly dwindling into death. Though she had never been close to her mother, the news of her condition elicited the proper polite grief that Lucrecia was expected to feel, though she was in all honesty more affected by her father's sorrow than her mothers impending demise. With a doctorate in biology and the confidence that comes from never once finding herself insufficient, Lucrecia decided to find some solution to her mother's illness through science. The only problem was finding a proper laboratory.
III. After a few drinks in a bar, you notice a rather shady-looking figure watching you from the shadows of the corner. He raises a finger and beckons you with the slightest twitch of his hand.
With a graceful ease and a genial smile that never would have rested so easily on her features if she were sober, Lucrecia slowly rose to her feet, draping her black tailcoat over her arm and then leaning on the bar casually, sipping her drink once before glancing back at the figure with a rather interested smile. She was always much more social when she was tipsy. Instead of walking over to the figure, she simply stood leaning on the bar, and she inclined her head in his direction, signaling for him to come to her.
They always did. And if he didn't... But they always did.
When the figure didn't leap from his seat to join her, she frowned, sipping at her drink again and puzzling a bit. This then, perhaps, wasn't one of those usual advances. Pushing off from the bar and taking her drink in one hand, her tailcoat in the other, she walked casually over to him, her gait swaying a bit more than necessary, though it was actually a bit difficult to tell if she was attempting to display her curves or if she was simply a bit more inebriated than she should have been. Sitting across from him in the corner in a manner that she realized a few moments too late was exceedingly trusting, she prompted, "Well?"
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