Devereux, Jace

[Jace Devereux]

it's all about YOU;;

Name: Ivy
Other Characters:-none-
How much will you be able to login?:-at least once a day, most likely more-

the CHARACTER;;

Name:

Jace Damien Devereux

Nickname: JD, Jay

Age:

21 Years Old

Species:

Human-Male

Appearance:



Celeb:

Jared Padalecki

Personality:

Before//
Quiet, shy, raging fears. Everything could hurt him, kill him, was out to get him. Paranoia was a problem in his blood line, both sides of the family. He was extremely clingy, and easily swayed. There were only three major things that kept him somewhat sane: music, school, and Grace-his twin. Extremely intelligent, could hold his own-if he tried, although he never did. There was the occasional buddy, acquaintance, but nothing binding.

He was the kind of boy where habits caused trouble. Once something was learned, he could almost never get rid of it. Same went with memory. Didn’t matter how horrible, or how little, every detail was retained.

Jace was walking trauma, chaos. A small, trembling nightmare.

After//
Fending for himself forced life onto his shoulders. It was a weight so strong, so heavy, it nearly broke him. But some how, some way, he survived. Through all the screams, blood, and death, he came out the other side a better man. Fright runs through his veins, but so does courage. Naturally insecure, but mentally steady, stable. Confidence is an ongoing battle, and although he never plans to master it, just knowing that one day he’d be able to look himself in the mirror and possibly like what he sees…

Addicted to control. Organization. OCD on absolutely everything, but needs it to remain in one piece. Habits still rule him, but he finds it the only way to calm after a stressful day of tears, torture. A new gain is his compulsive writing. There were journal after journal full of his thoughts, his darkest desire, anxieties. Nobody saw them. Nobody read them. Not even himself. But in a dark duffle bag he kept them.

He wasn’t depressed. Suicide wasn’t an option. Jace isn’t overly optimistic, only the very opposite, but he at least tries. He’d fight with all his strength to stay alive. For as long as he could. Until fate came a’knockin’ he’d win every battle.

History:

Rodger Devereux didn’t hate his son. But he didn’t love him either. Not completely. For a reason only that of a broken man could have. Mia Devereux gave birth to twins on a stormy winters night, correction, two stormy winter nights. Grace-their beloved baby girl-was born with little complications, and completely healthy. It was the little boy that gave them issues. Labor intensified clear into the next day. Mia was dragged into surgery, and unfortunately they weren’t allowed to put her under, so they had to numb her from the shoulders down. In short there was twisted tubes, tears in her uterine wall, and extreme blood loss. She died before Jace could give his first cry.

The weight of his mother’s death was something he’d silently bare for years to come. It was never spoken of in his house, only when his dad came home drunk, wasted. It wasn’t often, but the few times it did were afternoons Jace would never forget.

It was at the start of his third birthday. Small headaches at first. Panic attacks, intense anxiety. Over time there were whispers, in his head-they’d talk to him. Sometimes Jace would talk back. By the time he was five years old he’d experienced a full month under psychiatric care. Him and his sister seemed to have mental disabilities. They both were sent in for periods of time, treatments.

Sometimes they would help, for awhile, but they were expensive. Extremely so. It was Jace who went in more often than not. And by the time he was nine years old he’d been living in the ward for a full year. It wasn’t that Rodger didn’t want the boy around, but he was nearly the spit image of Mia-his high school sweetheart. He cared for the child, but he didn’t try to hard to make the kids life special…or easy.

A time came when he just couldn’t take it any more. He didn’t have the money, and he was fed up with trying. Nothing was working, and this had been the third time the “voices” told that kid to hurt himself. At night he’d put his twins to bed, and stay till the late hours of the morning conversing about permanent living. Giving custody of the child to the Psych Ward, so on and so forth.

The Twins were 13 years old.

Grace was protective of Jace. She heard the voices too, more than her little brother. But she knew, she knew their father was going to harm Jace. Take him away from her. More than anything she understood that without her Jace would collapse. What little sanity he kept was because of her, Grace was his string to humanity, to normal. What little normal was even possible. With extreme anger, rage, and being consumed with insanity, she murdered their father.

The two went on the run, but were only able to dodge authority for a week ‘n a half. Police caught up with them, and wrenched the twins apart. Jace would never forget the screaming, the kicking, Grace screeching his name, reaching desperately for him to take her hand. But he couldn’t. He wasn’t breathing, his lungs seized up with fear, loneliness, and he was in a coma at the hospital for a full month.

He went on drugs. Lots of them. Jace was sent into foster care, and licked up almost a week later. Without Grace his life had no meaning. There was nobody who understood him, no body who could calm him down when anxiety struck, when he was paralyzed with insane panic and desperation, depression. The voices whispered to him. A lot. They were all he had. He talked to them.

Was only a month later when he was sent back. The couple couldn’t take it, felt sorry for the boy, but he was too much to handle. Too quiet, dark, if anything they thought him dangerous. For the next two years that’s how his life was lead. Being sent into somebody’s home, only to be tossed back a couple months later. It was the day after his fifteenth birthday, an older couple by the name of Timothy and Camille Perton decided to take on the puzzle that was Jace.

That’s when he met Jim. James Gregory Perton. 20 years old, in college, but home for the summer.

Jace treated this home like he had all the others. He’d be back to his quiet sanctuary by the end of the week, two tops. Three months later and he was still living under the same roof. After four months he began to loosen up. Jace was told to call them Timmy ‘n Camy, and after awhile he did. Jim had decided to take a year off school, get a full time job, which left him tons of time to try and weave himself into the delinquent’s head.

Fits. Panic attacks. Knives. Drugs. But there was never a psych ward. Only care, concern. No matter what he did, they never gave up on him. And by the time he was seventeen years old Jim was like an older brother, and his best friend. Tim and Camy were the parents he never had, and he felt comfortable, at home, for the first time since losing Grace.

He lived voluntarily with the Pertons till he was nineteen years old, after that he moved across country into an apartment with Jim and his buddies. Ray, and Kyle. This threesome let him into their group, and despite his mental issues, they treated him like a brother. When the end of the world seemed to strike, strangely enough they’d been ready.

Jim said he’d been predicting something like this would happen. With the chaos, and the down spiral, he’d recognized the signs. Despite the uproar of demon activity, and fictional species suddenly coming to life, the four of them went underground.

Within a matter of two years they were Hunters, killers. They traveled the states together, staying hidden. Destroying evil. Didn’t matter if they died in the end, but they’d go out fighting. Unsure of where the world would lead, but maybe that was part of the journey.


Occupation:
Hunter
Specialty:

• Demon
  
• Leeches
  

Likes:

• Irish Whiskey
  
• Marlboro Red, short-hard pack
  
• Classic Rock; (AC/DC, Metallica, etc.)
  
• Noise
  
• Gray
  
• Motels
  
• Autumn/Winter
  
• Chicks
  
• Honesty
  
• Horror Flicks
  
• Strawberries
  
• Homemade Food
  
  

Dislikes:

• Beer
  
• Quiet
  
• Oranges
  
• Crowds
  
• Idiots/Stupidity
  
• Carelessness/Unprepared
  
• Romantic Comedies
  
• Summer/Spring/Snow
  
• Dark
  
• Soccer Mom Vans
  
• White
  
• Black
  
• Vampires-(personal, private, reasons)
  

Cannon?: Original

Codeword: [ADMIN EDIT]

RP Sample:

It had been a long time since Alec freely roamed the dark streets of Hogsmeade Village. Crossing the damp streets, he knew just by the scent of the air it was fifteen till midnight. The desired time to meet at the past destination. The way himself and that old friend of his partied when they lived in the halls of Hogwarts.

Sneaking out late, barely missing the swinging branches of the Womping Willow, crawling through the dirty dungeon likes of that horrid cave...seeing as the two best friends had been sorted into different houses, seemed to be the only true way to actually make sure they got together at night...to do hell knows what.

His years at that wretched building were full of memories, sickly sweet. At one point in his existence he treasured them. Nowadays Cole was showing him the error of his ways. His older brother had warned him, once, a long while ago, that the day would come when everyone Alec loved 'n cherished would betray him. See him as the monster he had become, and desert him...

Soon after that Cole disappeared. Took over a year of searching before Alec found him, and under evil circumstances. That night he had been forced to drink human blood, and within the next three months his older brother's fortune came to pass. More 'n more the vampire in him began to crawl out. Killing wizards and witches left 'n right.

Finally his father was so sick he threw him out his home, the family. Then Alec went to Jason. For a few weeks that seemed to be alright. But one night a particular midnight feed was brought to attention. The force of rage and disgust within the two non-blood brothers shattered Alec into a million pieces.

Cole found him in the dungy streets, right behind the shrieking shack. Fed him, nurtured him, and brought him back to health. Putting the dark pieces back together. Throwing the humanity out of his kid brother, releasing the true demon inside. And loving every minute of it.

Now, ten months later...here he was. The same place Cole found him. The brush where him and Jason drank, partied, and hung out like no other. Twisted memories lay behind this shack. And this night would be an evil greeting. Giving a grin, and a hello to the one person Alec once thought he could always trust.

Now within a dark corner, the shadows covered Alec completely, allowing him the privilege of giving the air of surprise. Now all he had to do was wait. He wasn't a very patient vampire, but knowing Jason? He wouldn't have to be.