STUDENT INFORMATION FORM
NAME: Genevieve "Jenny" Schmidt
HERO OR VILLAIN: Hero
SPECIES: Zombie (formerly a faerie)
AGE: 17
GRADE: 12th/Senior
GENDER: Female
SEXUALITY: Heterosexual
FACE CLAIM+DESCRIPTION: Snejana Onopoka; Jenny used to be your typical b.tchy popular beauty queen faerie-hair like spun gold, eyes like the summer sky, and an expression of cold disdain lodged permanently on her face. She had a pair of slender, delicate wings that she was especially vain about-like butterfly wings, but impossibly thin and dainty, with a very ethereal quality to them.
Nowadays, she's gotten a lot paler (as pale as death, some might say) and she's lost her wings (comes from being a zombie. Can't be avoided). Her eyes are ringed with black-perhaps it is rotting flesh (inevitable for all zombies, especially if they aren't being sustained by regular blood sacrifices)?-though her expression is just as perpetually disdainful as always.
LIKES: the wings she used to have (she was /so/ vain about them), Cass Valentine (in the way that a wealthy heiress likes a butler who brings her tea), social media (she's the B.tchy Rich Popular Girl (TM). Of /course/ she likes social media), strong absinthe (helps take the pain away, these days. Though she's got to watch the calories), whites and pinks and pastels, designer gowns, designer shoes, designer handbags, designer /anything/ (barring stupid things like designer pencils, of course. Wait, no-she likes designer pencils too!), she sorta liked her loyal minions but they could be annoying (AKA the underclassmen who basically worshiped her in hopes of increasing their own popularity), used to be obsessed with being popular (nowadays, she doesn't care much), her Spot on the senior patio (even Wilhelmina is too chicken to sit there without her approval), make-up, high heels, glitz and glamour, anything that's unreasonably fancy or expensive for little to no reason, being in charge or in control, feeling lighter-than-air (from hunger or from undeath-it makes no difference), successfully completing a fast, modeling (she likes both print and runway work, though she'll always prefer the runway. Walking for ashow is quite...exhilarating), people who get straight to the point (she has no patience for people who uselessly skirt around a topic), punctuality, people who have a keen eye for small, specific details, being bossy, doing what needs to be done, practicality and productivity, being obeyed without question, power and having power over others, being wanted, losing weight and going down clothing sizes, being the center of attention, being photographed
DISLIKES: being a zombie, most of her family (meaning her mother, father, sister, a good deal of her cousins, and most of her aunts/uncles), drab/dull colors (they're so /boring/), Wilhelmina (that fvcking /b.tch/), people who can't take a fvcking /hint/ (no, you random disgusting werewolf football player-you may /not/ have her number), gaining weight (she's deathly-afraid of it, actually), being viewed as insignificant, being "lesser" to other people, people who can't just straight-up tell her what they're trying to say (they're just...annoying), crybabies, small children (Jenny is /so/ not the person you'd want babysitting your three-year-old), when somebody/something ruins her hair/dress/make-up/shoes/anything, really, anything she considers "cheap" (AKA anything that's not 5-star hotel quality), cheap knock-offs (she can /always/ tell), sloppiness and messiness, the Hero High cafeteria food (the dorms are...nice. The food? Not so much), brains (she knows that she's a zombie and that she's supposed to like them, but they're /gross/. So much fat. Can you imagine how many calories are in one serving of human brains when they're 60% fat???), not being able to fly/not having her wings, the fact that she can't model anymore, the fact that she always has to be wearing sunscreen/large hats in order to go outside in the sunlight
PERSONALITY: Jenny Schmidt is vain, vain, /vain/-that much is obvious. She's drop-dead gorgeous (quite literally, hehe...oops. Too soon?) and she knows it. She is quite notorious for her cold-as-ice stares; they're enough to send even the toughest of werewolves running. She has always quite firmly believed that it is better to be feared than loved (though she's been reconsidering this belief, nowadays), and she has always been rather haughty and aloof. Jenny is perpetually annoyed at /something/, though she rarely makes rash decisions because those take so much...effort. She's rather apathetic to most things, holding herself above others with a cool indifference, though there are certain subjects-such as her weight, or her family-that you do /not/ want to bring up in front of Jenny (unless you're saying that she's lost weight. Then, you /might/ just get a genuine smile out of her. /Maybe/). Jenny is impossibly snooty, and really, /really/ mean, when she wants to be (she's just generally not a very nice person), to the point of being absolutely vicious (trust me on this-werewolf claws have nothing on the metaphorical claws of teenage queen bees. /Nothing/).
Beneath the sheets and sheets of ice and glass that make up Jenny Schmidt, however, lies a certain deep-seated need for acceptance and validation, especially that of her mother and her older sister. Jenny idolizes Lavinia and Lucretia, and although she can't say that she truly /loves/ them, she feels the need to at least make them recognize her talent. Jenny is constantly seeking their approval, and when she doesn't get it, she often resorts to rather self-destructive habits (such as water fasting for a week /while/ going to cheer practice every single day, and consciously knowing that she will probably pass out yet going ahead with it anyway). Jenny is also very insecure about her looks, and absolutely terrified of gaining weight. Her relationship with food is extremely disordered, and before she died, she'd gotten to the point where she wasn't even eating to /live/-she was eating to keep from blacking out in the middle of class.
Jenny has vowed to /never/ show anybody that side of her, however. She hates being seen as weak or vulnerable-she hates being seen as anything other than the perfect ice queen she's presented herself as. After she was Raised from the dead, though, it's been getting harder and harder to keep her composure.
But she will try, and she will succeed. Because there's simply no other option.
SKILLS AND ABILITIES: Can literally go days on nothing but water and tea and a handful of berries (a skill if she's ever stranded in the wild, she supposes), tearing apart your self-esteem, sauntering down the hall in a floor-length designer gown and 7" platform heels that are two sizes too small, running in impossibly high heels, applying make-up while operating a motor vehicle, detecting even the most impeccable of knock-offs from miles away, estimating the calories in a meal by just glancing at the food, she has the "disdainful dead-eyed stare" look down pat, using lighting and angles to her advantage when modeling, using lighting and angles to make herself look skinnier when posing for pictures, getting others to do what she wants them to do through sheer intimidation alone, unbeatable in staring contests, hiding how much her health (both mental and physical) has suffered throughout the years, was once capable of flying and manipulating light/air to create illusions like other faeries
WEAKNESSES: Sucks at making actual friends, being nice to others, being compassionate, putting herself in other peoples' shoes, always goes to the extremes, a total perfectionist, really, really snobby, also extremely vain, has a hard time accepting opinions that aren't hers, doesn't know when to admit defeat, refuses to apologize or admit that she's wrong, deep down extremely insecure and has many deep-seated body image issues, but hides all of this with her ice queen facade (okay, it's more than a mere /facade/; Jenny truly is very vain and very snobby), proud and haughty to the point of being arrogant, always seeking validation and approval from her older sister and her mother, refuses to quit even after she's lost, will hold a grudge for centuries if she has to, has a /really/ hard time admitting defeat-even to herself, also has a really hard time apologizing to others, very hard to get along with (she's not great at teamwork), very reliant on Cassius for the continuation of her undeath, weakened by the sunlight, always tired due to her general state of existence
BIOGRAPHY:
"You'll need to shave two inches off your waist if you ever want to walk in a big-name show. I'm not just going to sign you on just because you're my daughter, Genevieve."
Jenny turned around, startled. She was standing in front of her floor-length mirror, topless, a measuring tape wrapped around her midsection. Her mother had somehow come in behind her without her knowledge.
Lavinia Schmidt, a world-famous supermodel (amongst the right circles, that is. Usually the non-human ones) and founder and owner of Lavinia Models, Inc. strode into the room, her icy blue eyes running critically over her daughter's slender frame.
"Stand up straight," she ordered, pressing a hand against Jenny's upper back and tilting her chin up. She examined her daughter the way that a art collector would examine a painting that they were considering adding to their collection.
Jenny waited with a bated breath.
"You've grown," her mother said, finally. "An inch? An inch and a half? What does that put you at, five-eight?"
Jenny nodded, trying not to let the eagerness show. "Five eight and a half."
Lavinia appraised her daughter, again. "You have my genes," she said. "You have the right legs and the right height. And you have my wings." She put her hands around Jenny's waist, and frowned. "But you're not thin enough. Don't let my good genes go to waste."
And with that, Jenny's mother-Lavinia Schmidt, world-famous supermodel and ice queen extraordinaire-spun on her heel and walked out of Jenny's room.
Jenny glanced at her reflection, glumly. Her mother was right. She needed to deal with her disgusting thighs and her shapeless waste. 'Two inches, she said?' Jenny thought, checking the measuring tape. 'I can do that.'
She furrowed her brow, deep in thought. She hadn't gained weight after her first year at Hero High-she'd made sure of it-but what was she eating? Too many carbs? Too much sugar? Too much booze?
Jenny slipped her gauzy shirt back on, her gossamer wings sliding easily through the openings in the back. Had her mother ever told her /sister/ the same thing?
Lucretia-Lucy, to friends and family-was a model, too. She was over ten years older than Jenny, and everybody said that she would be as successful as her mother. She was also starting her own clothing line, and dating one of /the/ biggest names in non-human and undead fashion: Victor Blanc, a famous faerie fashion designer.
Jenny sighed, a tad morosely. Would she ever live up to the expectations of her mother, after everything that Lucy had done?
Jenny wrinkled her nose. She didn't really /like/ Lucy. She was too much like their mother.
Lucy Schmidt had been the most popular girl in school, when she was at Hero High. Captain of the cheer team, student council president, homecoming and prom queen...you name it, Lucy was it. Her mother decided to add Lucy to her agency's roster before she was even done with junior year, and while her peers were stressing out about exams, Lucy was flying to Paris and L.A. and Milan and Shanghai for castings and shoots. And she'd walked her first Fashion Month during high school, as well.
Jenny wrinkled her nose, again. It was so /unfair/. Why did Lucy get to be so perfect?
Jenny wanted to be a model. She wanted to be a /supermodel/, like her mom and her sister, with all her heart. And if that meant eating less chocolate, then so be it. Jenny would do it. She would do whatever it took to make sure that she didn't let her mother down.
"You know, Jenny," one of her "friends" (Jenny preferred to think of them as her obedient subordinates) at school had said, earlier that year-"have you ever considered something besides modeling?"
Jenny had thrown the other faerie her infamous ice-cold glare. "Like what?" she'd retorted, incensed. "Something lame like pottery? Isn't that what /you're/ doing?"
The girl had turned bright, bright red, and a satisfied smirk had slipped onto Jenny's face as she strode away, gossamer wings sparkling in the sunlight.
Really, though. What was that girl even talking about? Her whole family was in the industry (save for her father-/he/ was a plastic surgeon for all non-human species. Which was /still/ sort of the "industry", to be frank). Her mother was a retired model and the owner of a modeling agency. Her older sister was basically a supermodel, and she was getting into fashion design, too. Her uncle was a photographer for Undead Vogue, her aunt a booker and creative director with Victor Blanc (she'd introduced Lucy and Victor, actually), her cousins reporters and writers directly involved with non-human fashion, and her great-uncle had been a successful designer himself. She had no choice beyond becoming a wildly-successful model, just like her mother and sister and cousins. And then maybe also becoming a wildly-successful designer, or actress, or dancer, or something like that.
And so Jenny cut chocolate and calories and carbs. And she was kind of miserable-who wouldn't be, if your stomach literally hurt so much that just /breathing/ sends stabs of pain through your entire body?-but she told herself that it would be worth it. It would all be worth it when her mother signed her on to her agency, when she walked her first show, when she became a star.
Just like her mom. Just like Lucy.
And in time, those two inches came off Jenny's waist. And another ten pounds dropped off her frame.
Her hair began to thin and she was always /cold/-it was a cold that reached all the way deep down into her bones. And she would feel hunger ricochet through her empty stomach during class, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except getting signed, then walking her first shows and becoming wildly successful like her sister and her mother and the rest of her entire goddam.n family.
Meanwhile, Jenny's "popularity"-if you could truly call it that-soared. As she got older, she got skinnier. And it seemed like as she got skinnier, she was more popular. Never mind the fact that she couldn't even tell the girl who was supposed to be her best friend (/friend/??? More like /frenemy/) what she was going through her head. Never mind the fact that she felt like passing out after cheer practice and that sometimes she felt /dizzy/ with hunger.
Never mind the fact that she almost blacked out in class, multiple times. None of that was /important/, not compared to what her future held if she could just be /perfect/.
And then...junior year. Her mother /finally/ signed her on.
That was only the first step, though. After that, Jenny was off to a casting call or a fitting or a shoot every weekend. And through it all, she /still/ managed to make it to the hottest parties of the school year-even if she was gone ten minutes later. Her family's connections helped her land jobs that even seasoned pros would have a hard time getting-she posed for multiple Undead Vogue editorials, because her uncle was one of their lead photographers. Her cousins wrote news articles about her and had her come in for interviews. And her sister-her sister, now married to Victor Blanc and one of the newest and hottest designers on the scene-secured her a spot in her Paris fashion show.
The agents and journalists and photographers all raved about the third Schmidt girl, and her /impossible/ wings. They said she had all the austere, ice-cold beauty that her mother and sister had. But Jenny wanted /more/. She wasn't her mother, or her sister; she was Genevieve Schmidt. And she was /different/.
In February of her junior year, Jenny walked her first Fashion Month. New York, London, Paris, Milan-she missed more classes in a month than most of her peers did in a year (though the headmistress was surprisingly forgiving about it). There was talk of Jenny taking classes online as she launched her modeling career. Everybody said that Spring/Summer 17.18 was her break-out season; that her career would go nowhere but up from there on out. And Jenny was exhilarated-there was nothing more addicting than the thrill of pounding down the catwalk in mile-high heels and a designer gown. Nothing more addicting than posing in front of a camera for a shoot. Nothing she loved more than being the sole object of attention-nothing she loved more than the /power/ she held in that moment, the power to shape thoughts and feelings and even ideas.
And then...
...and then, she died.
Whenever Jenny thinks about /how/ she died-by the hands of Wilhelmina Wistmore, that presumptuous /bvtch/-white-hot anger and scorching black rage burn inside her, clawing up her throat and choking the air out of her lungs. She wants to scream, to yell, to /screech/-
-but she's too...tired.
Wilhelmina had her eyes on Jenny's throne, she knows. Jenny isn't /stupid/. But as Jenny spent less and less time within the hallways of Hero High, people talked more and more about her-about what she was doing in Paris, or in London, or in New York or L.A. And Jenny knew that Wilhelmina /burned/ with jealousy...but Jenny didn't much /care/, because /she/ was the most popular girl in school, not Wilhelmina.
But then Wilhelmina killed her. And what happened after she died is really kind of fuzzy, but when she next opened her eyes, she was lying on a hospital bed, wearing a thin gown in a gross shade of vomit-green, and her wings were /gone/.
Jenny knows how Cassius Valentine keeps her alive. She knows what he can do. She wonders /why/ he does it, sometimes. It's not like she was ever nice to him. It's not like she ever even /noticed/ him. And yet, there he is, helping her stumble back to her dorm as the energy leaves her limbs, injecting some sort of life-sustaining drug into her bloodstream every evening, pouring water down her throat as she sits there with a glazed expression and lifeless eyes.
Everything is different, now. Nobody wants a /zombie/ model-they're much too...unreliable, and the investment doesn't pay off. And she's nothing, without her wings. In the world of non-human modeling, a pretty face and a killer body and a good walk doesn't do it. Not when other models have pearly fangs and spider-silk wings.
Jenny doesn't know what she's going to do. Life without modeling is, at least to her, meaningless. She has no interest in the sciences, or mathematics, or languages. Her entire existence, up until now, was modeling. And the gods know that Lavinia Schmidt won't /ever/ take on a model who's a zombie-even if that zombie model happens to be her daughter.
Besides-her family is no true family. They know plenty of powerful and influential necromancers, after all, seeing as they're quite powerful and influential themselves.
So the question remains: why didn't they have somebody Raise her after she died?
CLASS SCHEDULE:
-Practical Skills for zombies IV (PRACTICAL SKILLS)
-Physical Education IV
-Fashion Design (ART)
-Zombie Biology/ "Zombology" (BIOLOGY)
-French (WORLD LANGUAGES)
-Food Chemistry (CHEMISTRY)
-Poetry (ENGLISH)
-Human & Non-human Histories of Fashion (HISTORY)
SUPERLATIVE(S): Most Likely to be Raised From the Dead, Most Fashionable Zombie, B.tchiest (probably)
TOP THREE CHARACTERS: Genevieve "Jenny" Schmidt, Mehira Tripuramallu, Estrella Zhang
[OPTIONAL]
EXTRACURRICULARS: used to be the captain of the cheer team and the president of many, many clubs. Nowadays, she doesn't do much outside of go to class. Though she might consider the photography club, as they've been pestering her to model for them and she isn't going to be getting any castings or shoots anytime soon.
MOODBOARD:
polyvore.com/little_bit_tch-jennys_ae…polyvore.com/dead_dazzling-jennys_aes…COLLECTION:
STORY:
polyvore.com/corpse-chic_mug/set?id=2…SOCIAL MEDIA:
polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=233243545PLAYLIST:
polyvore.com/nothing_more_than_human-…TAG MODS WHEN COMPLETE: @.ayzrules @.flannels-wine-and-cigarettes
Infinite Cosmos,
Altered Tundra
