Jett James Wilson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
itsmylife) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2014-01-28 02:54 pm
itsmylife) wrote in muserevival2014-01-28 02:54 pm
Word of the Day 038.
Nostalgia
n. 1. a wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one's life, to one's home or homeland, or to one's family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time
It was hard to believe that Jett's father was the pilot of the family. For some reason since he re-awakened to his Kindred self, Jett had an affinity to be high up. He couldn't explain it, and it made the irony of his name so much more amusing. Maybe it was the fact he could be this high up and even if he fell or jumped, he wasn't going to die. That was a freedom that he found exhilarating. It was a little strange considering he had never been much of a fan of flying before he died. In fact, that was the reason he ultimately chose the Army instead of the Air Force like his father. But now, here he was, sitting up on the ledge of another fucking huge and high building in New York City, legs swinging back and forth contently as he looked over the edge at the street below.
So, Gangrels could go skip through a field of poppies with mice that swept your floors or whatever, and Toreadors could hump a designer gown made of silk to have their escape. Hell, even Ventrue could go get a hard-on on the stock exchange or fire a few twats in the multimillion dollar corporations they ran. What did Brujah have? Being a pain the freckle by creating a rebellion of plotting to off the Prince of the City and take over? Fuck that for a joke. Seriously. He might have been a military and he had an underlying passion for fighting for a cause, but he didn't want to create unrest just for the fuck of it.
Besides, he liked the Prince of the City here, and most of the Primogen. He just didn't want to be handcuffed to them all calling him a young wanker because he was only however many days old and they were all, like, 578129 years or something. He adored Molly, he really did. But when she was bonking the Prince of the City and she was a Primogen herself, Jett was feeling like he had the whole Council watching his every move, waiting for him to fuck up. And goddamnit, he was a Brujah... he needed his freedom. He would be less of a pain in their arse if they realised that and stopped making him feel like he was a stupid jerk poised to fuck up left, right and centre.
What he just wanted was some peace. And he wanted without a billion experienced old fart Kindred's breathing down his neck and watching his every move. Growing up, Jett had to be a loner. He had friends, but once his mother got seriously sick, friends didn't really get what the struggle was nursing your sick mother and not understanding why you can't go to Maccas for a sundae after school every or why you couldn't make the days at the beach to go surfing on the weekends. He liked and needed his own space. It was that mindset that ultimately had him a successful soldier in the Army, because he learned that he was fighting for his country, and as part of a battalion, but you also had to have a lot of inner strength to know to make calls if you suddenly found one of your colleague's lives in danger.
Jett was finding himself needing to grieve for his human life lost. It was a very private thing, and even though his human life was left in shreds and not worth living, he still grieved the normalcy of it. He hadn't been Kindred very long, and it was a huge adjustment period. But he had only been 22 when the landmine explosion left him a complete quadriplegic. Everything had been taken away from him so suddenly and so unexpectedly that he was mourning the loss of his own life. But in amongst all that, he still had to feed and keep his Kindred body sustained. He still had to have those instincts and couldn't just hide away in a quiet corner of the world to go through the grief process.
There was a part of him that missed being human. He might have only been 23 at the time of his Embrace, but inside he had grown a really long time ago. Just because you had a lot to learn about something you had no clue existed, it didn't make you young and naive. He was frustrated with being called that, because if he had to go and survive alone, he would. It was why he kept threatening to do just that if these people didn't cut him some slack to realise that, yeah, he had a shitload of things to learn about this... but it had also only been merely weeks since he "died".
And he wasn't sure he was ready to just forget and depart his human life yet. If they wanted to translate that into him being a reckless pain in the arse, then that was their cross to bear. He would step from one life into the next when he was ready, and until then, his Sire and the know-it-all zoophiliac could shove their heads up their arses for all he cared.
If they wanted to make him a Brujah, they were getting a goddamn Brujah.
Jett Wilson || Kindred: The Embraced (Original Character)
n. 1. a wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one's life, to one's home or homeland, or to one's family and friends; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time
It was hard to believe that Jett's father was the pilot of the family. For some reason since he re-awakened to his Kindred self, Jett had an affinity to be high up. He couldn't explain it, and it made the irony of his name so much more amusing. Maybe it was the fact he could be this high up and even if he fell or jumped, he wasn't going to die. That was a freedom that he found exhilarating. It was a little strange considering he had never been much of a fan of flying before he died. In fact, that was the reason he ultimately chose the Army instead of the Air Force like his father. But now, here he was, sitting up on the ledge of another fucking huge and high building in New York City, legs swinging back and forth contently as he looked over the edge at the street below.
So, Gangrels could go skip through a field of poppies with mice that swept your floors or whatever, and Toreadors could hump a designer gown made of silk to have their escape. Hell, even Ventrue could go get a hard-on on the stock exchange or fire a few twats in the multimillion dollar corporations they ran. What did Brujah have? Being a pain the freckle by creating a rebellion of plotting to off the Prince of the City and take over? Fuck that for a joke. Seriously. He might have been a military and he had an underlying passion for fighting for a cause, but he didn't want to create unrest just for the fuck of it.
Besides, he liked the Prince of the City here, and most of the Primogen. He just didn't want to be handcuffed to them all calling him a young wanker because he was only however many days old and they were all, like, 578129 years or something. He adored Molly, he really did. But when she was bonking the Prince of the City and she was a Primogen herself, Jett was feeling like he had the whole Council watching his every move, waiting for him to fuck up. And goddamnit, he was a Brujah... he needed his freedom. He would be less of a pain in their arse if they realised that and stopped making him feel like he was a stupid jerk poised to fuck up left, right and centre.
What he just wanted was some peace. And he wanted without a billion experienced old fart Kindred's breathing down his neck and watching his every move. Growing up, Jett had to be a loner. He had friends, but once his mother got seriously sick, friends didn't really get what the struggle was nursing your sick mother and not understanding why you can't go to Maccas for a sundae after school every or why you couldn't make the days at the beach to go surfing on the weekends. He liked and needed his own space. It was that mindset that ultimately had him a successful soldier in the Army, because he learned that he was fighting for his country, and as part of a battalion, but you also had to have a lot of inner strength to know to make calls if you suddenly found one of your colleague's lives in danger.
Jett was finding himself needing to grieve for his human life lost. It was a very private thing, and even though his human life was left in shreds and not worth living, he still grieved the normalcy of it. He hadn't been Kindred very long, and it was a huge adjustment period. But he had only been 22 when the landmine explosion left him a complete quadriplegic. Everything had been taken away from him so suddenly and so unexpectedly that he was mourning the loss of his own life. But in amongst all that, he still had to feed and keep his Kindred body sustained. He still had to have those instincts and couldn't just hide away in a quiet corner of the world to go through the grief process.
There was a part of him that missed being human. He might have only been 23 at the time of his Embrace, but inside he had grown a really long time ago. Just because you had a lot to learn about something you had no clue existed, it didn't make you young and naive. He was frustrated with being called that, because if he had to go and survive alone, he would. It was why he kept threatening to do just that if these people didn't cut him some slack to realise that, yeah, he had a shitload of things to learn about this... but it had also only been merely weeks since he "died".
And he wasn't sure he was ready to just forget and depart his human life yet. If they wanted to translate that into him being a reckless pain in the arse, then that was their cross to bear. He would step from one life into the next when he was ready, and until then, his Sire and the know-it-all zoophiliac could shove their heads up their arses for all he cared.
If they wanted to make him a Brujah, they were getting a goddamn Brujah.
Jett Wilson || Kindred: The Embraced (Original Character)