Post by Vivienne Montague on Mar 23, 2009 4:07:49 GMT
Approved!
Full Name: Vivienne Montague
Alias: She detests petnames.
Age: Twenty-five
Gender: Female
Occupation: Socialite. Management, Gotham Finance
Affiliations: Neutral. Has recently become embroiled in mild criminal activity.
Personality: Ambition. It was a word that had been ingrained upon her mind since before she could walk. Trained, conditioned and instructed in a relentless fashion to strive towards a greater standard; anyone unfamiliar with the tyrannical lifestyle directed by the ideals of Pureblooded society would never understand. But that simple terminology, to her, rings of such insulting insignificance in comparison to how ‘ambition’ has truly shaped her life. Conducting her behaviour to suit aristocratic protocol meant that there was no room for fault and inevitably taught her to push herself further and harder than necessary. Often she’ll wonder whether such resolve is to be admired or pitied. After all, when had she ever had time for something other than duty and responsibility? She’d even neglected her own mother – the one person who most needed her daughter’s support – to fulfill the predetermined future her ancestors had laid out for her … to prove that she could surpass the example they’d set down and reach beyond just any expectation. That was the mindset by which she lived for several years, before certain events eventually forced her to question who she was working so hard for. Had it truly all been for herself? Had it made her happy to toil so remorselessly without really knowing why? But now she’s quite aware of who it had been for and all of the values she’d learned to respect have shattered. No longer does she comfort herself with the reassurance that she could someday make her father happy. Instead she fights for the freedom that had been snatched mercilessly from beneath her yearning fingertips, and for her mother’s will to live the life she should have before ever agreeing to marry Sebastian Montague. She retains that same drive that has become second nature to her of course, but her purpose has changed.
Indeed, since Vivienne was a young girl she can remember having a definite opinion where most anything was concerned. Even as a young woman she has proven on countless occasions that her theories are both bountiful and unhampered by politeness or uncertainty. Direct in the way that she speaks and admirably calm in her composure, Vivienne makes an understandably intimidating conversationalist. With a tendency to employ eloquent description simply for complexity’s sake, and unable to keep from questioning the opinions of others, speaking with her can prove to be more of a chore or tribulation than a casual pleasure. It certainly doesn’t help that she finds someone else’s discomfort amusing and draws attention to their weaknesses as though to provoke a reaction. It was something her father used to do whenever they spoke, expecting her to provide answers in a formal, informative manner that would leave her invulnerable to potential verbal attacks. Despite harbouring the confidence one needs to be an effective public speaker, he always managed to somehow find a loophole in her form of presentation and had no trouble berating her for it. She doubts she’d ever managed to impress him but has found his gruelling exercises a helpful tool in concealing her hidden agenda, while at the same time drawing her audience in with said social prowess. Polished, refined and as well-bred as a well bred socialite is expected to be, Vivienne emits the practiced self-assurance that comes with being in a position of some influence.
Vivienne was never meant to become the complacent, dispirited trophy wife. She realized that the moment she first witnessed her father laying a hand against his doting wife. She supposed it was also what sparked the fierce feminist in her she’d never before known existed. With a sense of guilt she is constantly scolding the repulsive behaviour of men and avoiding personal relationships of her own, perhaps in an effort to make up for the fact that she was unable to protect her mother from Sebastian’s violent temper. She supposes it also has something to do with feeling as though the abuse Melania suffered was of her doing. Unable to look past the sins of her father that she still sees in the eyes of her short-term flings, Vivienne cannot bring herself to genuinely love or feel at all attached to her lovers. However this does not bother her as much as one might initially assume. On the contrary, she often feels empowered by her ability to keep such tedious, superficial things as relationships at the back of her mind so that she may focus entirely on the matter of supporting herself and her mother, as well as securing a job for the government– a lifelong dream of hers – so that she might come to prove exactly how capable she really is. That she is able to fend for herself without her father’s assistance … that she doesn’t need to rely on anyone but herself. It’s something she wished Melania had realized. Perhaps that way she would have avoided succumbing to the demands of a man that used her as nothing more than a bargaining chip.
Despite being a naturally level-headed, charismatic young woman there are certain vices that allude to her severe upbringing and the precarious relationship with her father. Her intolerance for imperfection could be the most innocent. Due to the strict environment she’d been raised in, there had been no room for mistakes. Flawlessness was akin to law and although she found this ironic when comparing it to her family’s taste for scheming against some of the most prominent individuals of Gotham, she continued – and continues to this day – to obey and abide by it. Failure, whether on her part or someone else’s is unforgivable in her eyes. It is why she has come to rely solely on herself to get the job done right and to her satisfaction. She has also become a rather judgmental person, much to the dismay of her mother. Upon introducing herself to someone for the first time, she watches them with a critical eye and can usually decide whether they or competent, incompetent, trustworthy or otherwise within a matter of moments. Sometimes her appraisals are accurate, other times not. But she always seems at ease with her own predictions. Because she doesn’t have very much faith in people, Vivienne is frequently brash and unfriendly to strangers. This is also why she can’t call many ‘true’ friends or confidants. In fact she would be able to count the number of those she trusts explicitly on one hand.
As an assertive woman, many find her to be quite obnoxious and arrogant. They would be right. She has placed herself on a pedestal and looks down on the general public unfavourably. Content in looking after her needs and well-being alone, Vivienne does not concern herself with the predicaments of others unless she sees that it will become a burden for her in the future. Selfish as well as vain, the young woman expects to be handed whatever it is she asks for as promptly as possible without question and finds her mood perks when she is surrounded by luxury. Considering it to be a major contribution to a successful first impression, Vivienne also makes it a habit to look in a mirror on average about six times a day. In fact it is the first thing she does after the night has passed though there is hardly ever a moment when a single strand of hair is out of place. It would be an understatement to say that she is easily offended when something negative or apathetic is said about her dress or physical presentation. It is just another demonstration of how everything about her must edge towards the ideal. She is extremely easy to disappoint, which – considering the above – should not be hard to believe. Not only does she set unrealistic expectations for herself, but also for others around her, especially those with whom she knows personally. Her temper is not easily provoked but when it is, by a personal letdown or otherwise, it is explosive. When angry she will involve any persons in the vicinity whether they have something to do with it or not and will place the blame on whomever she can in an effort to lessen the sense of defeat and loss.
Her possessions are very dear to her, and touching them would be a grave mistake. Disorder irks her and when it comes to her things, they are set up in a very specific manner. Organization is a skill she thinks everyone must look at as priority and takes impressive pride in her own such capability. When she is in an environment that is messy and cramped, she becomes agitated and uncomfortable, almost suffocated and experiencing the same distress someone diagnosed with claustrophobia would while forced into a tight, airless space. That is another one of her quirks, namely, having her personal bubble invaded without permission. She does not like it when someone touches her unexpectedly, most notably around the face or neck, and will tell them off immediately and without remorse for doing so. She does not give second warnings and does not believe in the three-strikes-you’re-out deal. If you make the same mistake twice, in her mind it is apparent that you are either being purposely defiant disrespectful, or you are simply too ignorant and stupid for a chance at possible friendship. The same sort of ideology applies to her enemies; she will never be able to forgive and forget something as disreputable as harming – verbally or physically – herself or those she has come to care for.
In the end there is nothing that Vivienne thinks is out of reach or beyond her capability of achieving. Having learned that she can have whatever it is she puts her mind towards attaining; there are no restrictions or boundaries she has to remain wary of. Passionate and assertive to an almost dangerous degree, getting in her way would indeed prove to be a grave mistake. She never lets her guard down and though there is a tender secret that could possibly prove to be her mortal weakness, she conceals it well … having promised to herself and her mother that no one will ever be able to damage her pride again. Certainly not without a fight.
Unique Traits/Skills: Vivienne is a highly intelligent, perceptive individual who prefers to use the power of the mind as opposed to physical force. She counts it as fortunate, considering her slight frame wouldn't give her very much of an advantage if were ever to use her fists instead of her words. Able to pick up on minute details and then store them away in her subconscious for when she needs it, Vivienne has proven she has a spectacular memory and extensive knowledge of most things. It is rare she finds herself caught off-guard for that simple reason. Charismatic when she so chooses to be, it's also rather easy for the woman to establish and maintain connections with influential people in positions of power. She is a resourceful sort of person and extremely organized which tends to prove useful often.
Appearance: There are very few things in such a broken world that one might deem ‘beautiful’. In fact, there seems to exist nothing of the sort amongst the rubble and ruin that lay haphazardly in all directions. Waste – all of it – for miles it lays in all of its deformity, and so if there had been anything sublime to speak of; it was tarnished by the ugliness of the war-torn city. Vivienne, the name that ironically bears the recognition of ‘fair of face’ personifies instead the intense darkness of the home that has since collapsed around her. It was as though she were purposely sculpted to reflect the disaster and bleakness that now wholly consumed a place that had been so full of vivid colour and resilient spirit. One notable difference that separates these similarities however, is the fact that – for all of her gravity, there is no bleakness to speak of. In fact, the most appropriate way to describe her striking countenance would be to say that she bears quite a great deal of volume. A horrific refinement so utterly arresting that simply looking upon her is a beautiful agony.
With a heritage as rich as the Montague’s, it came as a surprise – albeit not an unpleasant one – that Vivienne had inherited none of the stereotypical features associated with any aspect of either of her ethnicities. Instead she conveys something of a romanesque profile, limbs abnormally long and thin; comparable to delicate bone-china liable to shatter into a hundred pieces upon the gentlest of persuasions. Her height, although it adds an air of superiority and regality, has lessened the evidence of feminine curves and steep dips commonly related to young girls her age. Unfortunately this also includes the coveted supple breasts that stand as a prevalent and sought after feature, standing as something of a landmark of womanhood. Despite her boyish figure however, it would be quiet a feat to deny that she has an enviable grace about her. Rhythmical in the way she moves and elegant in every sense of the word, Vivienne carries herself in a fashion reminiscent of a queen amongst her humble subjects. Subtle gestures such as the lift of her chin and the perfected frown upon her lips are expressed artistically to demonstrate as much, expressed almost artistically across the haunted pallor of her sharp, dramatic features.
Perhaps her most startling feature, the colour of Vivienne’s eyes stand as a metallic inky blue-green so dark it appears black at a distance, echoing the hue of the center of brittle sapphires dug from the deepest crevices the moist underground. Fringed in long, almost ornamental lashes which break like a wave across her cheek, and startling against the ashen colour of her skin, they carry the weight of her emotions within their mysterious depths. Many people have remarked that her slender nose and rosebud lips resemble that of a porcelain doll’s, eerily flawless in their placement and never giving anything away; such small details are all excruciatingly symmetrical so that staring at her for too long may cause one to wonder whether she’s alive or simply a life-size statue of alabaster and ivory. Sunken, shadowed contours, exquisite bone structure, high sweeping cheekbones and a pointed jaw do well to reflect the aristocracy coursing through her veins, rarely painted or made up in anything more than lotion and a dab of perfume.
It should also be noted, there is no uncanny resemblance to her parents, much to their dismay, save for the swirl of glossy golden waves which spill unbound over her small, sloping shoulders. It was the same silvery-blonde of her mother and grandmother’s hair before her, groomed with great care and left long and always loose, it stands as the only source of femininity about her person, occasionally dressed up in ribbons and ceramic combs.
Lastly, as it isn’t quite so relevant as some might assume it to be; Vivienne’s attire is very simply put, tidy. The cloth is as expensive as one family would dare to invest in and custom-made to suit her awkward figure, or lack of one. Corduroy, suede, silk, stiff jackets and ties compile the extent of her wardrobe, and perhaps is somewhat more masculine than one would expect from a young lady her age. Pearls are her gemstone of choice before diamonds and she adamantly refuses heels save for special occasions.
Overall, roguish, intense, dark and mysterious are all attributes that would fittingly describe this peculiarity of the Montague lineage. Yet for all of her outward flaws there is a commanding aura that surrounds her, beckoning for one to venture closer and take a better look. Not all is what it seems after all, and though her features are much too hard and foreboding to be compared to the softness of her siblings’, there is no doubt that she possesses an eloquence left forgotten and underappreciated.
Celebrity name: Jessica Stam
History: Love is an unpredictable thing. Intertwined with fate, it seems an almost impossible outcome to predict. Some discover it, some don’t … and whether others prefer to live without it, there’s no escaping it when it so chooses them. For Sebastian Montague, it had been a completely uncontrollable aspect in his life. A naturally hard man, there were very few who loved him. Many respected him of course, but it would prove to be a difficult task to honestly say that they loved him. His own mother and father had been strict and oftentimes overbearing. Hard work was what they lived by, with very little to no time to relax and enjoy one another’s company. Of course Sebastian himself might attest to the fact that even if they did take that time, enjoyment wouldn’t exactly be the result. Living in France, the majority of his childhood, he was attended to by a private tutor and schooled far beyond the average age of those in the United States.
Another year passed slowly and Sebastian was officially an adult. No longer was he obligated to abide by his parents’ wishes, but surprisingly, marriage was not on his mind. During that year he’d pushed himself harder than he ever had in an effort to forget about the only woman he’d ever loved. He’d lost himself in the process until all that he could think about was establishing a place for himself away from the security of his father and mother’s influence. He wanted to do it on his own and so ended up immigrating to America, taking up permanent residence there and quickly finding work for the Government. Because of his reputation and flawless academic history, he was spotted quickly and referred to the Department of International Trade and Negotiations by the man who would become his senior. They became close friends from there, and some even venture so far as to say that this friendship was the cause for Sebastian’s turn for the worse.
Melania Peters had always been a sweet young thing. Full of energy and reared by a grandmother who pampered her to her heart’s content; it wasn’t a surprise she grew to expect to always be seated in the lap of luxury. Initially she wasn’t particularly interested in her studies, and had to be quickly broken of this rebellious attitude. However she continued to mature with age and grew to be the lady her demanding mother expected. Because her father owned large corporations overseas, she rarely saw him but it concerned her very little. Over time she was allowed to attend her mother’s social soirees, paraded about much like a prized poodle with ribbons in her hair and a fake smile across her lips. Eventually she was even able to run some of them on her own, and grew to be respected and admired for her beauty and charm by many of high-society’s wealthier ladies. In fact it was at one of these parties Sebastian and Melania first laid eyes upon one another. One of the younger cousins had convinced him to go and he had agreed. Sparks flew the moment they were introduced. In his eyes, she was America’s princess, all golden hair and long, delicate limbs and he was her French rogue; dark hair, swarthy skin and a thick brogue which was beginning to acclaim some British feel. It didn’t help that they were both young and ambitious with all the time in the world at their disposal. One thing led to another and as most might assume, fate decided to make its arrival.
First it was Vivienne, and the proud parents were happy. However with their businesses flourishing and Sebastian’s work more demanding than ever, there was no desire for any more children. These things happen however; passion overcomes sense and one night after a long drawn-out argument, newly wedded Mr. and Mrs. Montague conceived what he would at least soon consider a mistake.
It was true, for a long time Vivienne was nothing but a liability to Sebastian. With little respect to spare for women save for the pleasure their bodies elicited, they were nothing. However, astoundingly, it was he she took after and a mutual respect settled between them. Concerning the relationship she had with the younger brother that eventually made his way into their lives, it was vague and really nothing special. There were always points of tension between the two however. This might have been due to the fact that Vivienne was older and wiser than and not quite as spontaneous as her younger counterpart.
She proved herself to be an ideal student both in high school and university, content and kind despite the notorious reputation that seemed to trail her everywhere. She’d lost a few friends along the way, but it wasn’t until mid second year when she began to change. Her current companions speculate it was due to the revelation of her father’s long-term affair and the night he – reportedly – man handled Melania. It was shocking to everyone who knew about it that she didn’t file for divorce. But how could she? He was everything to her. Besides, she vowed she still loved him even if he no longer reciprocated the same. She believed she could change him and so life went on as normal as possible with her brother playing stupid. It seemed to affect the Montague daughter the most, to see her mother in such a troubled state. It seems now she has taken to distracting herself by doing exactly as her father had done, pushing herself to do better than her best in order to please her mother and bring her some joy, as well as throw herself into the social scene and ensure that people remember her name.
Things are fast-paced for Vivienne with very little certainty as to where exactly she’ll end up.
Of course, there never really is a guarantee as to how things will end. She just hopes it was all worth it.
Sample Post: It would have been entirely unfair to deny that Wayne Manor was in and of itself the epitome of grandeur simply because the man to whom it belonged was universally disliked. Some might have considered it an unnecessary display of wealth on his part, while others likely appreciated the historical value of the mansion’s vaulted ceilings and its distinct colonial flair. Regardless, one thing was for sure. It was certainly suited for the ostentatious parties Bruce seemed so keen on throwing. Even approaching the wide entrance doors, Vivienne could clearly hear the commencement of laughter and petty exchanges amongst Gotham’s high-class. Did she acknowledge the superficiality of it all? Of course, and she was also more than aware of the fact that her own arrival suggested it mattered to her. Keeping up appearances was important when you fought to thrive in a society where there was no grey area. You were either publicly accepted, or you were vulnerable and just another blemish on the surface of something trying desperately to conceal its ugliness. That was it, and the sooner one came to understand that … the sooner they’d be able to make the decision as to who they wanted to be.
Individuals such as Bruce Wayne and Vivienne Montague had made that pivotal choice long ago. It was the reason they were so resented. It was also why they were able to focus entirely on their own success and disregard anything and anyone else that they deemed were irrelevant. The convenient thing about success you see is that money can buy popularity and public favour. So when you were financially secure – liked or disliked – you were well established. And when you were well established, you were untouchable. Her peers told her she had a banker’s mindset. Was that really so surprising though? Considering her choice of career, she didn’t think so and look where she’d wound up. All of a sudden her theories weren’t so ridiculous after all. It just proved how ignorant people could be.
Ushered into the ballroom by a well-dressed member of staff, the blonde surveyed her fellow guests with an unreadable expression. Every single one of them had at one time or another been in the public eye. That or they at least had a set of valuable connections and knew to put them to good use. Despite this, she recognized less than half of the faces which swam momentarily into view and then vanished. It didn’t matter; it wasn’t as though they had anything of importance to say. There was only one person she was interested in speaking with and that was the host himself. Recently Vivienne had taken to harassing Wayne into affiliating with the financial branch to which she’d been made partner, but his secretaries either were too busy filing their nails to pass on the message or he’d been avoiding her. An invitation had been inevitable, so she had come to him. The thing was, he’d likely been expecting her father. What an interesting night it would be.
Accepting a flute of bubbly champagne from a passing waiter, the woman wound her way expertly through the throng of socialites and celebutantes, noting absently that her choice in attire set her apart from the bright, colourful frocks the other girls had slipped so eagerly into. Hers was black, long and draped across her body loosely; fit at the waist by a diamond embellishment. It rippled like water against her skin, but the focal point of the gown was definitely the fact it was backless, plunging dangerously low to settle at her hips and exposing the entirety of her back and shoulders. She wore it with a smile, enjoying the attention she garnered as a result. It wasn’t a crime to revel in vanity on occasion. Flirting innocently with older men and accepting compliments from the other women, Vivienne floated about for thirty minutes before she began actively searching for Bruce. After his speech he’d been snatched away, ensnared by the desperate claws of the girls who were prone to fawning over him so frequently.
She’d made sure to catch his eye at least once before he’d been spirited away. When he was ready to talk, he would find her.
That was fine, she could exercise a degree of patience.
