the masochist

jezebel // twenty years old // phisiology major “Of all the animals, man is the only one that is cruel. He is the only one that inflicts pain for the pleasure of doing it.” - Mark Twain

[eviljezebel]

The wind blew through the campus courtyard, the sun had set and Jezebel was out getting her usual air. Suddenly she felt a hand wrap around her arm, causing the girl to jerk away and turn around in surprise. "Holy Jesus, Mary, and Saint Joseph. What the fuck, man? You scared the living shit out of me."

[eviljezebel]

theartfulthatcher:

Thatcher opened his mouth to make some remark about Sid Vicious and the tragedy of legends being so forgotten that they weren’t even good for throwaway pop culture references anymore… but then he stopped, words slipping back down his throat and mouth closing as he regarded the girl in front of him. He tilted his head slightly, as if the new angle might reveal something otherwise hidden. There was a peculiar stiltedness to the way she held herself. It wasn’t fear, not exactly. No it was something far more delicate than that, a gossamer web of uncertainty.

It was delicate enough that it actually gave the teenager pause. Surprisingly, he didn’t want to prod and push at this girl until she broke. Thatcher shook his head, lifted one slim shoulder up in a dismissive shrug instead.

"Don’t have any. Not romantic ones, at least, and they’re the only ones worth talking about - or not talking about, as the case may be," he pressed his fingers together, seesawed the cigarette up and down in his grip. "So, what drove you out here into the soothing balm of a future case of lung cancer? Classes getting to you?"

When he did not explain further she was unsure if it was because he was being apathetic or rude as if to dismiss her for being clueless. It didn't occur to her that there might've been some sort of kindness within the silence, probably because she had no experience with it. To Jezebel, there was nothing but maliciousness in the world around her, even if it varied on severity.

She found herself sitting in the grass in front of him, genuinely enjoying the outdoors. The hand that did not hold the cigarette pressed to the greenery beneath her, fingers curling into the cool blades. "I do not smoke to help curb or feed a craving, nor do I do it to alleviate stress or pacify myself. My parents always said smoking was a sin, and spoke badly of those who did it -- though my mother constantly sneaked cigarettes -- and so I... suppose I do it as an act of defiance, as minor as it may be. It is a relaxing enough activity, and I genuinely just like being outside. The smoking just gives me something to do while I am out here. If I get so concerned about my lungs I could always just project my power onto someone else every time I smoke a cigarette, then they would have the damage from the smoke, I suppose." She said it so calmly, like inflicting harm on someone else was more of an act of nature as opposed to something evil. Like saying she'd go brush her teeth or buy some milk.

"Why is it that you do not have any romantic relationships?" She asked as she brought the cigarette to her lips for a drag. 

[eviljezebel]

olliebushell:

Ollie let out a laugh, it was a little one, but genuine, as if he found the remark funny. “Only when it comes to my stomach.” He says, and stands up to retrieve a knife from one of the kitchen drawers. Her words make him momentarily stop, and he sets both the knife and the tuna can down onto the side to give her a look. “No.” Ollie’s eyebrows pull together a little. “Not weird because of that. Weird because you literally just used it to hurt me, or whatever that flick was. Wasn’t a tickle, any way. That’s weird.”

It genuinely confused her to see Ollie's reaction, her head tilting to the side with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. "I would think hurt is a rather strong word, don't you?" To Jezebel, pain had become a much more severe phenomenon. It was like she barely processed pain unless it held a certain degree of severity to it. His comment that a mere flick was to hurt him seemed... baffling. "If you think that is pain then I would reassess your outlook on pain. Maybe... experience more of it? Then you will not correlate a flick with being hurt."

[eviljezebel]

georgeosei:

"Wars generally should be avoided, yes. Just because we are capable of destruction and ruin does not mean we should strive for it. I’m rather fond of cake. I’d like the keep this world around for as long as I can. There is more to humans than pain and cruelty. There exists a vast array of beauty and pleasures, love and goodwill." Speaking of cake, he could go for another. His adaptive muscle memory meant he had to keep in shape to perform physically demanding tasks his wanted to mimic. And that meant he had to consume a lot of food to fuel his body. At least, that’s what he told himself to justify all the desserts. 

He understood her skepticism in some ways—many new students arrived thinking they could never control their powers and hurt someone with them. “At the moment, perhaps. But give yourself a chance and you may be able to find other uses for it. Open your mind to the possibilities.” 

A few of the comments she’d make would have George wondering if she meant something more by them. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but for the time being, assumed it was safer to interpret them in a neutral manner. “I respect that religion plays an important role in society, but as for myself, my views are agnostic. My family has lived in places all over the world, and I have been exposed to many religions. Enough to feel I should not commit to one, maybe. And what about you?”

When he threw in the random comment about liking cake, Jezebel looked down at the piece of cake in her laugh, the majority of it still intact. Taking the fork, she severed it into a fourth and three-fourths, offering him the larger piece. "Have some more cake then. I'm still learning to eat more, so I can't finish it anyway." It was true. Even after the amount of months she'd been at the school, she'd spent the majority of her life with very little to fill her stomach, and while her appetite was slowly growing, it was taking a while to get there. She couldn't believe that humans were anything other than pain and suffering. Maybe on the surface they seemed decent, but fear did lay beneath it, and with fear came the fuel to exterminate the unknown. 

Her eyes slowly left his face when he inquired about her faith, eyes slowly sliding to take in the greenery that surrounded them, the students that passed by. What was her religion? Her beliefs? Those were hard for her to comprehend. Christianity had been ingrained into her throughout the span of her life, and she couldn't help but find her mind naturally going there at times from the way her brain had been wired. But she had no desire to believe in a God who punished, or in a religion that left her so traumatized. Her fingers slowly curled around the pentagram that hung from her neck, looking to him once more. "I'm a Satanist, actually." She spoke finally, gripping it a little tighter. "I don't know if I... necessarily believe in Satan though... I suppose because I think I've seen evil among the people on Earth, and the idea of Satan and Hell seem very... underwhelming. And the idea of a higher power at the moment who just.. ignores suffering... more so makes me angry at the moment than filled with faith. But Satanism is all about freedom, and spiritual strength. I can't help but gravitate towards it after how I grew up. It's very different from how Christianity depicts it, and it's very forgiving."

[waltz-of-spring]

[eviljezebel]

                     You don’t know how hard I fought to survive,

                         Waking up alone when I was left to die

                        You don’t know about this life I’ve lived,

                                    All these roads I’ve walked                                      All these tears I’ve bled

[brahford-blog]

[eviljezebel]

islaturner:

It was a strange sensation, as if one of her nerves by her jaw suddenly tightened, and then there was a dull ache. “Jesus. I’ll make sure not to ever piss you off.” She burst out laughing, in awe at the incredible power the unassuming girl had. “You see, this is the thing that bugs me about this place. They put all these different elements into a tiny place, and expect no sparks to fly. No offence, but you could go cuckoo and decide to go on a massacre of the place, and no-one’d be able to stop you.” She dropped the half-spent cylinder and ground it under her foot, her eyes peeling back to the girl. “Whoever’s idea this is, it’s royally fucked up, pardon my cynicism.”

The reaction Jezebel got brought a small smile to her face, biting back the comment about how she'd already gone on a bit of a minor massacre right before she came to Morgana -- it probably wouldn't do much good for her. The idea of people fearing her was empowering, but also terrifying, because that was what got her in trouble in the first place. "I suppose that's true. I mean I'm not indestructible... I don't think. People can hurt me if I'm not actively using my power. But I mean... if I am.. I don't think I'd die. I survived a stab to the heart at least." She blinked, realizing that might've been too much information. "Hopefully none of the students go on a massacre. You'd... be able to get away quick at least, though." She nodded towards her wings.

[eviljezebel]

gabriel-clarke:

Gabriel was still embarrassed, if the student was anyone else, they probably would’ve gotten super pissed. This girl just seemed bored, if not completely uncaring of the subject as a whole. He took the paper plane and immediately shook off the apology that she gave him, though he couldn’t help but smile at the little pout on her face when she’d tried to fix it. “No no, I should’ve been more careful, hell, I should’ve been doing work. Plus I could always make another one.”

"One must always take time away from work for themselves. Maybe this is your... 'you time' as they call it." His smile made her curious, though she enjoyed it enough -- making others smile that is. She didn't do it often, if ever. "You.... made that?" She blinked in honest surprise, staring at it. She'd figured someone else had made it, like at a factory, or someone else who did it more seriously. 

[violet-donova]

Violet realized that she was unwelcome here, but didn’t bother to do anything. She needed some air and this is a free country, so she can do whatever she damn well pleases. Seeing the cigarette, Violet grabbed the lighter she kept in her pocket and plucked the cigarette from the other girl’s hand. “Here.” She said, lighting the cigarette then holding it out to the other girl.

[eviljezebel]

Jezebel was not, in anyway, okay with this person invading her personal space, nor was she okay with her stuff being touched -- regardless of whether she was making an effort to be kind. Her eyes narrowed harshly on the other female, taking the cigarette but not smoking it. "Pull anything like that again and invade my space? I'll burn you with this fucking cigarette." 

[eviljezebel]

olliebushell:

There’s a brief and sharp pain against his jaw that he doesn’t expect, and whilst it stays for only a few seconds it still makes him flinch. He’s not stupid, he saw her flick her own jawline, he assumes the incident her fault. Violence, however small, he disapproves of, but still he’s placid, minus his previous approach at being friendly. 

"I opened a tinned chicken pie this way before, though it took me an hour and a half." He says, and shifts in his seat so that he’s no longer facing her fully. His eyes return to the tuna can. "Do you normally do that thing with your power on people you just met? It’s a little weird." He asks as if the subject is as common (and as boring) as the weather.

"You must be the poster child of determination." Jezebel remarked, giving up on the cigarette and tucking it behind her ear. Unless.... did she have matches? She started patting her pockets to feel for any. The brunette was not good at socializing, that was clear, apparently even to him. Her teeth dug into her lower lip, eyeing the other as his words sunk in. Weird? Was it weird? "We attend a school for mutants." She explained, eyes flicking around to the walls as if it were to showcase the fact. "Isn't the point that we are all weird."

[eviljezebel]

georgeosei:

George listened carefully to her confusion, getting a better idea of what this particular student faced prior to her arrival at the academy. If she believed in God, it wasn’t his place to dissuade her of it, but her assumption that balance could only be kept through punishment was something that he could not let go of. 

"Not so. There are spirits as toxic as the people they came from. There is no shortage of them who would lend their power to one who wished to use it. While it may be entirely possible that we live in a world with spirits aiding and guiding us, we are the ones who make the choices. Us. Humans.” He licked his lips, trying to choose his words carefully. “No matter what higher power we choose to believe in, it is ultimately our responsibility to exercise our wisdom and decide if we carry out their will or not. Are there consequences for defying a power greater than yourself? Undoubtedly so. But it is still your choice to weather such consequences or defer to their authority. Needless to say, one path is more difficult than the other.

"Indeed, punishment is often a consequence of defying a higher power. That much has been documented throughout history. But within us, there is something far greater than punishing one another. There is forgiveness. There is mercy. And, that, is far greater than any force one can use to coerce a person to your bidding. We are a species filled with mistakes and cruelty—walks from all different paths of life. When we come together, conflicts and violence inevitably arise. But harmony is not achieved through force or punishment. It takes understanding and kindness—a willingness to forgive wrongs and learn about each other in order to come together and move forward as a people. 

"As mutants, many of us have suffered unjust, and often violent, discrimination. But if we were to punish those who hurt us in return, what would that accomplish? Putting more fear and hatred into the hearts of others? That would start a war. Hurt innocent people as well. As a teacher, my job is to provide a safe environment to give you students a space to understand yourself and your powers better. It is then our hope that you go into the world better equipped to handle it. To change the way mutants are perceived in a positive manner so that the generations after us never have to face the hardships we do."

By now, the cigarette he lit was all but a smoking stub between his fingers. George leaned back in his seat and flicked it away with a small sigh. “But easier said than done, yeah?” He flashed her a wry smile.

"Is starting a war such a bad thing?" Jezebel's eyes lifted to him, curiosity lacing together her words. "There are people out there who would want to hurt us, and they will before they try to understand. That fear you speak of is already there, and it's enough to fuel the violent actions towards mutants. There are probably some out there right now being tortured by the very people you want us to coexist with. But I don't think that's possible. War, maybe. Or complete avoidance of one another. But never coexistence. Innocent lives could be lost in the process of that as well." She understood where he was going with this, he wasn't wrong in the sense of that was something that should be achieved, but humans were volatile and that alone would be the cause of destruction. 

"I suppose I'm just uncertain as to how my power could be used for something good. Even if I could simply touch my cheek and caress your own... there's not much good with that. It just is." There was no cynicism in Jezebel's tone, just a lack of understanding. The teacher probably thought she was nothing short of a moron, and she knew she couldn't help that. The outside world -- the world beyond the farm she'd grown up on -- was a culture shock to say the least. Even trying to socialize with people made little sense, and she found herself constantly at a lack of things to say. It didn't exactly bother her though, there was no bitter taste of inadequacy on her tongue. Being alone was just fine, it was much preferred over the life she had once lived.

"You... have a very intriguing mind, professor." Those hazel eyes of her skated over his face, reading the weathered lines that had been carved into his skin as naturally as the water had carved out the Grand Canyon. It was perplexing to think that anything could carve skin in a gentle manner. "You have a very fascinating way of thinking. I enjoy listening. What is your religion?"

[eviljezebel]

gabriel-clarke:

The plane was one of the most crappiest things Gabriel has ever made. He’s an art major, he lives and breathes art, hell, he’s a grown man. But, what does he do with his time? Makes a paper airplane out of some newspaper, go outside, and test it. He didn’t mean for it to go towards anyone, but then again he hadn’t even though about that. He just ran outside like a child with a new toy. So, seeing it go towards a student made him go pale. He winced the second before it hit her, but then he felt a sharp, sudden pain, as if something poked him, in his eye. It took him a minute to realize what had happened, by then the girl was in front of him and he was smiling sheepishly, completely embarrassed. “Thanks, sorry about that.”

It wasn't a surprise that something like this would happen when she was outside. Leaving her dorm was always a risk, it meant she'd likely run into people. Jezebel handed him the paper airplane once she'd tried straightening out the now bent tip of it, pouting slightly when it didn't do much. "There's nothing to be sorry about. It hurt you more than it hurt me." She let her shoulders lift into a gentle shrug. "I'm sorry my eye got in the way of your plane... thing. It seems like it won't be very aerodynamic with a scrunched up nose."

[eviljezebel]

theartfulthatcher:

The ragged drag of smoke against the back of his throat was a discomfort that Thatcher had sorely missed. There was something intriguingly pedestrian about this particular brand, a roughness to the aftertaste that should have been off-putting but wasn’t, not entirely. It was a bit like terrible coffee too bitter to enjoy but too blessed to cast away. The boy drew in another deep inhale, cheeks hollowing slightly where his thin skin pulled against his cheekbones, and then flicked some ash away.

"My thinking isn’t quite so fatalistic as that. Guess I’ll never be a punk rocker - lucky for the ears of the general public," he said. There was a note of melancholy in the way the girl phrased things, not overtly present but lurking behind her refusal to indulge the same emotion which bled into the cadence of her voice , glancing toward the Thatcher frowned faintly, glancing toward the property line where she had fixed her attention.

An awkward beat passed.

"Jesus," Thatcher breathed, "this got deep fast. Relationship talk might have been the better option."

To say she was confused might have been an understatement. Jezebel felt like he was speaking a different language. What did punk rock have to do with it? And she asked him that. "I don't... understand what punk rock has to do with.. anything..." She brought the cigarette to her lips to suck on the end of it, the other end that burned slowly inching towards her lips. 

Her brows pulled together at his statement, the fingers of her free hand going to find their way to her hair to scratch absentmindedly at her head. She must have done something wrong, though it didn't necessarily surprise her. She wasn't conditioned for social interaction, unable to see how what he meant with how it got deep. "Deep." She repeated the word back to him, uncertainty laced throughout the letters of the word. "Then why... don't you talk about your relationships." She tried, inhaling a breath before she tended to the end of her cigarette once more.

[eviljezebel]

gabriel-clarke:

All she'd wanted to do was smoke a cigarette in peace, the outdoors were like her sanctuary. And yet suddenly a paper airplane was flying towards her, and she didn't have enough time to duck out of the way. Instead she squeezed her eyes shut and let projected the collision of the plane and her face on the raven-haired man who'd thrown it, letting him take the pain of her poked out eye instead of herself. With a wrinkled nose, she looked down at the plane and picked it up from the ground, bringing it to him. "I think this is yours."

[eviljezebel]

islaturner:

Her head fell back, into the sun’s rays, and she let a cloud of smoke unfurl into the air, watching carefully as it all rose away from her. “Can’t really get away with your option, so I figure I might as well go out and attract as much attention as possible.” She snorted, though her wings retracted further in towards her, as if she could attempt to hide them behind her tiny frame. “So I got these bad boys..What’s your little magic trick that you think nothing of? You shoot lasers outta’ your eyes?”

Jezebel wanted to tell her how remarkable her wings were, but she wasn't in the business of giving compliments. She didn't receive them and she didn't offer them; affection was foreign to the girl who had never received even a hug. When she asked about her power, Jezebel's lips formed a tight line. Her hand reached up as her mind focused, easily giving a firm flick to her jawbone -- a flick she knew the Winged Woman would feel as if it'd been done to herself. "They call it Human Voodoo."

[eviljezebel]

georgeosei:

He’d been trying to push away the image of her face so close to his when she leaned in to press her unlit cigarette to his. It didn’t escape him that some people referred to it as a kiss. Maybe she had little regard for personal space, but it did set his eyes wandering subtly over her beautiful features. The arch of her lips formed a question that he focused on instead.

"Because your power did not spontaneously manifest. Throughout history, you will find mention of our many different mutant powers in some form of myth, legend, or faith. Who is to say some high priests or priestess were not actually mutants? These stories came from somewhere.” He smiled gently, his voice rambling in soothing tones.

"You are not alone in this world. You have experienced one side of your powers, but what if there was more to it? What if you could discover another side to it as you master your talents. The key to unlocking different aspects of your power may lie in the practices of old, you see. You may not be a part of the religious aspects, but that matters not. What is important is to know your powers are a part of something that people have great respect for. You are not limited to what you can do now. With time and dedication, who knows what you could accomplish, hm? But how you choose to use your powers is your responsibility. I can only try to provide you with the options.”

They came from somewhere. She'd learned to like that idea; coming to Morgana she'd learned things like the Big Bang and evolution. Those concepts were so eye-opening to Jezebel -- the idea that stars collapsed into themselves and exploded, died, to create life, it made the concept of her existence something she could more easily grasp onto. The thought that these powers came from somewhere too made them easier to accept.

His suggestion that she had the ability to do more was also baffling to her. There was a type of ineptness that stayed in Jezebel's mind despite how she had hold of something so many people didn't. Years of pain were enough to beat a girl down to numbness, and she didn't really understand the reality of potential she could possible have. 

"Does it not... work in the sense of a spiritual or... cosmic balance? When someone has sinned, they are to be sent to Hell. God does not forgive sinners that besmirch His good name or the things He has built. God punishes to protect the people He has created, and those who do not obey will suffer." She blinked, her fingers curling around the pentagram that hung low on her chest, almost like a type of support she needed to keep herself together. "When one only uses their power for malicious intent... for... revenge... to hurt others... wouldn't He... or whatever Voodoo spirits... keep such power from developing further. To keep balance? Wouldn't people who don't use their power responsibly not be able to use it for the good things you speak of?"