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James, Jesse; Mechanics - 2nd Year
Topic Started: Jan 4 2009, 04:34 AM (84 Views)
Jesse James
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[dohtml]<span style='font-size:7pt; line-height: 100%'><font face="verdana">
<br><br><font color="#000000"><font size="8pt">J</font><font size="5pt">esse</font> <font size="8pt">J</font><font size="5pt">ames</font></font><br>
<font size="5pt"><font color="#FFFFFF">big girls don’t cry</font></font><br>
<br><br><br>
Posted Image<br>
<br><br><br>
<font size="6pt"><font color="#FFFFFF">22 years gone</font></font><br><br>
25 September <font color="#7d7d7d">-----</font> Rio De Janeiro, Brazil
<br><br><br>
<font size="4pt">Jednorezec College</font><br>
2nd Year <b>Mechanics</b><br>
<i>+ here i go again on my own +</i>
<br><br>
<font size="4pt">dark</font><font color="dimgray"><font size="8pt"><font color="#FFFFFF">Ω</font></font></font><font size="4pt">darker</font><br>
<br><br><br><br>
<font size="2pt">caucasian.brazilian</font><br>
<br><br><br><br>
<font size="3pt">one - seven - zero centimetres</font><br>
<font size="2pt"><font color="#FFFFFF">five - five kilos<?font></font>

<br><br>
<font size="4pt">Recommended by: </font><br>
Roy James.
<font size="4pt">Because of:</font><br>
The arrest. But probably because she was headed down ‘that road’.</i>
<br><br>
<font size="3pt"><b>personality traits</b></font><br>
+ fiercely loyal, protective, honest, ambitious, brave, willing<br>
- too shy (at times), too bold (at times)

<br><br>
<font size="4pt"><b>history, in brief</b></font>
<br><br><br><br>
<font color="#FFFFFF">She was born under Jesus, but God was never there.</font>

<br><br><br>

She had always thought that if there was a God, he would never have let her mother get in deep with the kind of criminal her father was, he would never have let him treat her like he did, he would never have let the two of them bring a child into the world…and then another. But she was born under Jesus and she thought that was kind of cruel for he would never look at her; he would never see her. Marcela Jesusa Barros, Jesse to anyone who knew her, came into the world in silence. Outside the hospital room door, the people of Rio De Janeiro were living in chaos, but inside the delivery room all was quite. Her mother, a child model then a stripper and now finally a cocktail waitress at a local casino had opted for a silent birth. Perhaps she knew that after those first initial moments of life, all of those following would be far from quiet for her baby girl.
<br><br><br>


At home in Juiz de Fora, a small town southeast of Rio De Janeiro, having not bothered to get up from his place on the couch sat her father, a vile man who beat his wife for sport and his son when he so much as spoke without being spoken to first. What he had in store for his daughter however, was probably worse yet. Still, several miles away in a natural birthing hospital, mother and daughter lay quietly, peacefully, safely at least for the moment. She named her Marcela after her own mother and Jesusa like the man she worshipped and whose giant statue stood not far from where they were. Unlike how Jesse would view religion, her mother had always thought of it as a safe haven. The church, one of the only places her husband would let her go outside of the house (the others being this hospital and her place of employment), was a place she could be alone. Here, she could beg God to hear her prayers. He never did.

<br><br><br>

Her father didn’t try to touch her until she was four, a pretty little thing who even managed to look good in the hand me down’s she got from her brother. She’d been pushed and slapped whenever she did something – common of a child – that her father didn’t like, but he had never given her the attention that he gave her brother and mother. All that had resulted from those incidents was a small scar on her lip from when she’d been pushed into a glass table and some hurt feelings. When he tried however to sneak in her room one night and crawl into bed with a scared shitless four-year-old Jesse, her mother decided that was the last straw. She packed up the kids in twenty minutes and left, moving north and towards the coast to Rio de Janeiro and there they were able to get lost, in a good way. Although her mother lived in fear for several years after, their father either never came looking for them or did and wasn’t successful. She found a job quickly as a server in a restaurant on the beach and was hardly ever home, growing immediately close to the owner of the club a well-mannered British man named Roy James. As a result, Jesse’s brother not only started doing drugs but selling them also, for in Rio de Janeiro, that sort of thing was not just common but easy. He made money and spent money, but he also gave money to his mother and she never questioned where it came from, instead turning a blind eye to his obvious criminal activity because it helped pay the rent.
<br><br><br>


Jesse didn’t take much notice of any of this until her brother brought home his first street racer, a ’68 Camero. She was eleven-years-old at the time, an awkward pre-teen with a lanky frame and long dark hair. She had little to no recollection of her father and what he had done to her and her family. She realized they were poor but it didn’t mean much else to her than that she didn’t get new clothes like her friends. She knew her mother worked all the time and that her brother was never home, but she never once stopped to think what any of that really meant. Until the Camero. It was a piece of shit but he insisted it was all in how you drove it. She didn’t believe him so he brought her to her first race. He was fifteen and she had just turned twelve. He made her wear an oversized hoodie of his and told her to shut her mouth and stand on the side. Still, when the cars flew by her she couldn’t help but run a little ways after them, chasing. For the next race she moved to the finish line and let out a delighted scream when they crossed it neck and neck and a frightening man with a shaved head and a tattoo on his forehead asked her to tell him which one crossed first.
<br><br><br>


One would think that she was hooked right then and there, but that summer her mother married Roy James and the four of them became a family when they moved into his mansion in the hills. Although her brother was not as willing, Jesse embraced Roy, who was kind and thoughtful and smart. He taught her things about his home and how he had fallen in love with Brazil and then her mother. They vacationed for the first time in Jesse’s life and she finally got a new pair of shoes. He insisted that she be sent to a private school on the outskirts of the city, far from the dirty streets where they had lived only a few months prior. It seemed as though overnight, Jesse’s life had changed. However, despite making new friends at the school she soon craved the things her brother had shown her that night. Cars going a hundred and forty miles an hour just a foot away from you were not something easily forgotten and so, at fifteen, Jesse returned to the streets that Roy and her mother had tried to hard to get her away from.
<br><br><br>


In the beginning she watched only. Dressed in a baggy pair of jeans and a black hoodie with her hair tucked into the sweatshirt she tried desperately to conceal her naturally beautiful face and budding feminine body. She wanted so badly to fit in with these people and eventually she did. The man who had introduced racing to her brother, a man named Preacher, fell in love with Jesse and not in a creepy way. He took the awkward pre-teen under his wing and taught her all about racing and what the streets were like after midnight. And so she began her double life. Dressed in a uniform that consisted of short skirt, knee high’s and blouse, Jesse would attend school from eight to three every day, homework when she arrived home and then when her mother and Roy were asleep, she would dress in her brothers clothes and the two of them would creep out into the night to do (or watch in Jesse’s case) what they both loved most. Street race culture drew her in and although she wasn’t into the drugs that her brother and some of his friends were doing, she liked most every other aspect of it: the speed, the rivalry, the beautiful women, the hard boys and the cars, oh the cars.
<br><br><br>


After that it was hard to tear her away and soon enough she wanted to race cars of her own. Her brother insisted it was too dangerous and that she was much too young but Preacher told her that as long as she did it right and was always in control of her car, there was really nothing to be afraid of. Of course, her brother wouldn’t even hear it and so they put the kibosh on that rather quickly. But Preacher was a man who gave chances and he was confident in his ability to teach Jesse how to drive properly. They started out slow, in a small engine car that was easy to handle. Preacher sat in the passenger seat and directed her the whole time. Then he didn’t say anything at all. Eventually, he moved to his own car and only rode beside her. Of course, it wasn’t long before Jesse was taking the car out by herself, it wasn’t hard. They didn’t race every night and on those nights that they took a break, Jesse would sneak out and take her brothers car for a spin around the block. But in Rio De Janeiro you couldn’t just decide to be a street racer, there were steps you had to take. One was getting a driver’s license, which she wasn’t old enough to have but hardly worried about, the second was learning to drive of course, which Jesse had already done but it was the third step that was most daunting. Initiation.
<br><br><br>

She can recall that night as though it happened just yesterday. It is both the most awful and wonderful thing that has ever happened to her. At first she was just running up and down the ¼ kilometer stretch pushing people off the course. Dressed in a baggy pair of jeans and a hoodie, her hair pulled back and tucked down her sweater (the usual), she looked just like one of the guys, which is why spectators were often shocked when they heard her voice protruding from the darkness of her hood.
<br><br><br>


“Mooooooove. We’re trying to get this show on the road.”

<br><br><br>

Her tone was forceful but her voice soft and high, still they took her seriously because they knew immediately who she was. Four cars, one being her brothers and one being Preacher’s were lined up fifty feet away, engines revving. Jesse’s heart was beating so fast she was almost sure it would rip right out through her ribcage and onto the road, one of the cars was sure to run it over on its way by. Soon, she would be in her own car on that line, soon. As in, maybe fifteen minutes from then. That reminded her, she needed to get ready. So, instead of watching as she always did, Jesse took off away from the crowd and up towards the start line to prepare herself for her first race. Since there weren’t many female racers in Rio De Janeiro at the time, tonight was sort of monumental and the crowds were larger than usual. That’s probably why the police showed, but no one can be sure about the real reason. Even when Jesse asked, hours later as she sat in her holding cell shaking but resigned to her fate they wouldn’t tell her why they’d come that night and let them be so many nights before.
<br><br><br>


As she sat at the start line however, her hands gripping the wheel and her converse clad foot pressed down entirely too hard on the brake as she waited, Jesse never though anything like that would happen to her. She’d watched her brother and Preacher and countless others do this night after night, race after race. There was always the threat of cops sure, but precautions were taken, police scanners were checked, everything that could have been done had been done. Still they came, a dozen at least. She hadn’t even jumped off the line, she hadn’t even had a chance to win or lose, she hadn’t even gotten her turn. She did get to drive that night however, and it was probably the worst loss she’s ever suffered because she was caught in the end and thrown in a dirty Rio jail cell. Worse yet, she was the only one they’d been able to track down, everyone else had made it home free. She was completely alone.

<br><br><br>

When Roy James picked her up the next morning, her eyes were red and swollen from crying. He didn’t take her home however, the place she most wanted to go, instead they drove straight to the airport, where she boarded a plane for an interview at Jednorezec Academy, a school she had only heard of through rumor on the streets. It had a bad reputation as a ridiculously hard punishing school and so Jesse, being the smart girl that she was, did everything in her power not to get accepted to that school. Of course, as all who attended would know and could have told her, that’s exactly the kind of fight and spark they’re looking for in their students. It was a tearful goodbye when she packed up her things and moved to Prague. Leaving her mother and Roy James was hard enough, but her brother and all the friends she’d made on the streets were the most painful goodbyes she’d ever had to say. She was seventeen, rebellious and heading off to a place she knew could be no good for her.
<br><br><br>


It was shocking just how wrong she was.
<br><br><br>


For the first little while Jesse kept mostly to herself. She missed home, her family and of course, the friends she had seemed to make so easily on the streets. Despite being in a school of delinquents like herself, Jesse felt out of place and awkward. She tended to hide her body and her natural beauty with baggy clothes, sports bra’s (at least two at a time) and long hair which she always wore down and in her face, but he noticed her anyway. If someone had asked her at the time, Jesse honestly wouldn’t have been able to tell you why he was attracted to her in the beginning. She was rude to him at first, an instinct she’d learned back home. But he’d persisted and eventually, as time passed and she realized he really wasn’t going to give up, she began to warm up to him. He was rough around the edges like her but he had a good heart, even if she was the only one that could see it and so she began to trust him. Rafael Lenz was Jesse’s first friend at Jednorezec and then her first boyfriend.
<br><br><br>


Their first dates were ones for the record book; filled with gear shifting during make-outs and surprisingly more romantic things. In front of his friends or other students Rafael was cold and tough, he wore a disguise that sometimes shocked her because she knew that other side of him, the one that called her at three in the morning just to tell her about a race he’d been in because he was as excited as a little boy on Christmas morning. It didn’t take her long to fall in love with him and he with her. They graduated together and he stayed on to teach gym at the academy while she took a year off to visit home. But nothing was the same when she got there. Her brother was in jail serving time for possession and trafficking and Preacher was nowhere to be seen. Her mother and Roy were different too. They had settled nicely into married life and seemed to forget she even existed. Jesse barely spent the summer in Rio before deciding this was not what she wanted. She missed Rafael, hell she missed Jednorezec. With new resolve she flew back to Prague to start college. Now, as a second year mechanics student (a career choice made for her obvious love and respect for cars) she’d admit she has a pretty good life.
<br><br><br>


<font size="3pt"><b>t r i v i a</b></font>
<br>
Girlfriend of Rafael, five years deep.<br><br>
Studying car mechanics because she truly loves being around the damn things<br><br>
Goes to most of Raf’s races, but hasn’t raced herself since she was arrested at seventeen<br><br>
The passengers seat in Rafael’s Mazda is her favorite place to have sex<br><br>
Likes photography and often takes pictures of the races<br><br>
Has lost all ties to home, is pretty much on her own in Prague and the world<br><br>
<br></font></font></span>[/dohtml]
<font face='harrington'>Player: Sar</font>
 
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