Mathilde Beaumont

[Mathilde Beaumont]

MATHILDE ELISE BEAUMONT




Basic Information;

Character's Full Name: Mathilde Elise Beaumont
Nicknames: Mattie, used exclusively by family members.
Age && Birthday: Twenty-eight, September 14th
Occupation: Doctor, member of House's new team.

Appearance;

There are very few things in such a broken world that one might deem ‘beautiful’. In fact, there seems to exist nothing of the sort amongst the rubble and ruin that lay haphazardly in all directions. Waste – all of it – for miles it lays in all of its deformity, and so if there had been anything sublime to speak of; it was tarnished by the ugliness of the war-torn city. Mathilde, the name that ironically bears the recognition of ‘fair of face’ personifies instead the intense darkness of the home that has since collapsed around her. It was as though she were purposely sculpted to reflect the disaster and bleakness that now wholly consumed a place that had been so full of vivid colour and resilient spirit. One notable difference that separates these similarities however, is the fact that – for all of her gravity, there is no bleakness to speak of. In fact, the most appropriate way to describe her striking countenance would be to say that she bears quite a great deal of volume. A horrific refinement so utterly arresting that simply looking upon her is a beautiful agony.

With a heritage as rich as the Beaumont’s, it came as a surprise – albeit not an unpleasant one – that Mathilde had inherited none of the stereotypical features associated with any aspect of either of her ethnicities. Instead she conveys something of a romanesque profile, limbs abnormally long and thin; comparable to delicate bone-china liable to shatter into a hundred pieces upon the gentlest of persuasions. Her height, although it adds an air of superiority and regality, has lessened the evidence of feminine curves and steep dips commonly related to women her age. Unfortunately this also includes the coveted supple breasts that stand as a prevalent and sought after feature, standing as something of a landmark of womanhood. Despite her boyish figure however, it would be quite a feat to deny that she has an enviable grace about her. Rhythmical in the way she moves and elegant in every sense of the word, Mathilde carries herself in a fashion reminiscent of a queen amongst her humble subjects. Subtle gestures such as the lift of her chin and the perfected frown upon her lips are expressed artistically to demonstrate as much, expressed almost artistically across the haunted pallor of her sharp, dramatic features.

Perhaps her most startling feature, the colour of Mathilde’s eyes stand as a metallic inky blue-green so dark it appears black at a distance, echoing the hue of the center of brittle sapphires dug from the deepest crevices the moist underground. Fringed in long, almost ornamental lashes which break like a wave across her cheek, and startling against the ashen colour of her skin, they carry the weight of her emotions within their mysterious depths. Many people have remarked that her slender nose and rosebud lips resemble that of a porcelain doll’s, eerily flawless in their placement and never giving anything away; such small details are all excruciatingly symmetrical so that staring at her for too long may cause one to wonder whether she’s alive or simply a life-size statue of alabaster and ivory. Sunken, shadowed contours, exquisite bone structure, high sweeping cheekbones and a pointed jaw do well to reflect the aristocracy coursing through her veins, rarely painted or made up in anything more than lotion and a dab of perfume.

It should also be noted, there is no uncanny resemblance to her parents, much to their dismay, save for the swirl of glossy dark curls which spill unbound over her small, sloping shoulders. It was the same blackness of her mother and grandmother’s hair before her, groomed with great care and left long and always loose, it stands as the only source of femininity about her person, occasionally dressed up in ribbons and ceramic combs.
Lastly, as it isn’t quite so relevant as some might assume it to be; Mathilde’s attire is very simply put, tidy. The cloth is as expensive as one average income family would dare to invest in and custom-made to suit her awkward figure, or lack of one. Corduroy, suede, silk, stiff jackets and ties compile the extent of her wardrobe, and perhaps is somewhat more masculine than one would expect from a young lady her age. Pearls are her gemstone of choice before diamonds and she adamantly refuses to wear anything but heels.

Overall, roguish, intense, dark and mysterious are all attributes that would fittingly describe this peculiarity of the Beaumont lineage. Yet for all of her outward flaws there is a commanding aura that surrounds her, beckoning for one to venture closer and take a better look. Not all is what it seems after all, and though her features are much too hard and foreboding to be compared to the softness of her siblings’, there is no doubt that she possesses an eloquence left forgotten and underappreciated.

Personality;

Very few people in the world know exactly what it is they want. Even less are motivated enough that they will stop at nothing until they have achieved whatever it is they so fervently desire. Or perhaps it isn’t simply a matter of motivation; perhaps it’s a psychological mosaic of courage, desperation, self-deception and a materialistic, shallow undertone that no one seems particularly fond of admitting to having stroked. There is an embarrassment that greed often leaves in its wake, troubling even to those of supposedly admirable morals. Seldom does anyone step up and accept their indulgence for what it is. Considered wholly by society as one of many carnal sins, over-eager consumption is looked down upon so severely that there is a fear of social exile. Someone like Mathilde Elise Beaumont therefore comes as an unpleasant surprise to the rest of these misguided fools, and offers no apologies for whatever painful truth she may bring recognition to.

Reasonably one could label her the perfect exemplification of what it entails to be ‘aloof’. Calculating, manipulative, intent on satisfying her needs and her needs alone, it isn’t difficult to see that she fits the bill nicely. What remains, whether purposely or otherwise, ignored however in the case of Mathilde, are the numerous other qualities – maybe not as glamorous as those aforementioned few – but certainly factors that influence her individuality. For that is what she is, an individual. Unique in her own right and quite mindful of it. The traits that personify those who share her values only scratch upon the surface of who she is and even allude to unfair stereotypes and judgments for so long placed upon the shoulders of those like her.

Mathilde may not be the kindest, nor most generous person but she is unquestionably loyal to those who have earned her trust. In their company she is as harmless as a newborn kitten and speaks with as much respect as she would a Professor or colleague. Her only confidants in a school of traitors, she is careful to keep them close and would make great sacrifices to ensure their happiness. And like any young woman, you can expect her to be much more at ease amongst them than, say, a group of complete strangers. Fun-loving and with an insatiable longing to be in the spotlight, Mathilde knows how to have a good time and used to frequent late-night parties as well as other less-than-legal ‘functions’ at some underground pubs in London during the summer. Because the atmosphere was so somber at home, Mathilde looked to make the most of the many months she spent at university, having wracked up quite a reputation over the course of her years in attendance. Despite her parents’ ineptness when it comes to expressing themselves through anything but frowns and narrowed eyebrows, it seems their only daughter picked up on the art of persuasion and socializing quickly. Able to mingle easily amongst even a large group of people, it isn’t difficult for her to adopt a feigned look of pleasant surprise at a moment’s whim. This has proven very useful, specifically at her mother’s garden parties or her father’s business luncheons when there are valuable impressions to be made and future connections to be gained.

What may come as the greatest surprise to most people about Mathilde is the fact that, though she is somewhat promiscuous, she does not make it a habit to sleep with just anyone who offers it freely. In fact she holds herself and her reputation in high-esteem and would never see it tarnished by such a vulgar means. Of course as a fairly attractive girl with subtle curves and a brilliant smile it’s no wonder she’s taught herself to use her body to get places, but only by employing a more tactful, respectable approach than most other girls can claim. The Beaumont women were all born and bred to be proper, respectable ladies and so that same responsibility and expectation has fallen to Mathilde. Being the eldest girl of two children, it is her duty to ensure their generation carries on the decorous, dignified manner of the ladies of her family name.

Contrary to her picture perfect behaviour in the effort to please her parents, Mathilde can also be as terrible as the words ‘callous bitch’ paints her sort to be. Devious and easily jealous, it wouldn’t be considered a stretch for her to seek revenge on anyone who has crossed her. Wrathful and possessive, this could apply to anything that she believes ‘belongs’ to her in any way. Though she would never go so far as to actually harming anyone – she prefers to allow others to get their hands dirty, so to speak – Mathilde is normally the brains behind these vengeful operations. Something of a perfectionist, she will remain on the sidelines until everything has been carried out in exact detail. One mistake and prepare for a lengthily scolding. One thing Mathilde can’t stand is failure, whether by herself or someone else, being showed up by anyone is one of her largest pet peeves, faithful in her proficiency at seeing things through to the very end with favorable results. It is acknowledged even by herself that she is a sore loser and though she may curse and scream for a good while, Mathilde refuses to pout or sulk about it. Whining raises the hairs on the back of her neck. Such childish behaviour is beyond her and able to cause the girl to snap from the sheer frustration of having to listen to it.

And though many of her sort are made out to be pathological liars, Mathilde avoids doing so as often as possible. The more lies that are spun the likelier and likelier you are apt to getting caught up in the tales. Because she is so fearful of being outwitted, she strays from telling too many fibs and instead looks to exaggeration as a more effective tool.
One of Mathilde’s more interesting quirks is the enjoyment and fulfillment she receives from playing ‘cat and mouse’. After discovering someone who can play mind-games as well as she can, it’s only a matter of time before she puts up a challenge. Though this behaviour is mostly reserved for men, it is not out of the ordinary to see her doing the same for other women. Because they tend to be very intelligent and quick on their feet, they’re usually a safe bet for a little bit of ‘fun’. Though she finds delight in learning new things each day, it seems her thirst for power and influence is more a priority than expanding her knowledge. More ‘street smart’ per say than ‘book savvy’ she has enough common sense to see her through and in her opinion, that’s all that matters.

Determined and aggressive, you won’t see her back down very often. Every bit as cold-hearted on the outside, you’ll also find yourself hardpressed to be the audience of her softer, sensitive side unless you’ve been taken into her circle of comrades. Though it isn’t easily noticeable she has a good heart that has just been broken and patched up too many times to function properly. A fallen angel who doesn’t count on her lucky stars anymore, Mathilde Beaumont is sure to leave a lasting impression.

In Depth

HOBBIES

| baking
| studying foriegn cultures
| helping others
| interior decorating
| curling up with a good book
| bickering with gregory house
| admiring doctor cuddy

LIKES

| renaissance period art
| marble sculptures
| teardrop earrings and diamond bracelets
| dark chocolate
| intelligent conversation
| gambling
| surprises
| harmless banter
| scandals and secrets
| the thrill of being chased
| spontaneity
| adrenaline rush
| being the center of attention
| being admired
| scented candles
| assertive men
| cleanliness
| embracing the unexpected
| change
| classical music
| the piano and violin
| symphony orchestras
| sexy lingerie
| rough foreplay
| the ocean
| holidays
| keeping herself busy
| crystal chandeliers
| a job well done
| money

DISLIKES

| relying on others
| feeling helpless
| chocolate frogs
| gardening
| misconceptions about herself
| the cliché
| feeling unprepared
| failure
| disappointing others
| having to apologize
| pushovers
| untidiness
| anything with more than four legs
| her middle name
| being treated like garbage
| being looked down upon
| being manhandled
| the winter
| champagne or wine
| house stereotyping
| heartache
| admitting to her flaws
| the smell of fish
| having her freedom threatened
| anyone who threatens her family
| human weakness
| backstabbers and betrayal

BEST MEMORY

When her entire family went on vacation to Europe. It was the first time she and her mother were truly able to bond without her sister hovering about and demanding attention. Their relationship blossomed throughout those few weeks and Mathilde would never forget the wonderful time they had. Graduating from medical school and earning her PhD and being hired by Gregory House also counts as a best memory.

WORST MEMORY

Mathilde's worst memory would be when her sister nearly drowned in a deep river located in the field behind their old home. She's a terrible swimmer because of it and avoids large bodies of water when she can. It's something not many people know about her.

History;

Everyone is born pure of heart and of good intentions into a world that thrives on corruption and greed. Many consider this unfair, that something so beautiful be tarnished without even having provoked such a distasteful fate. Futures may be predicted at that point, some blatantly obvious from the start. However things don’t necessarily always go according to plan but whether or not this has anything to do with a higher power is a dismissible. Over time there have been great stories of those who accomplish great things. There have been tales passed along from generation to generation about great people who do terrible things. They’ve left a land-mark; an imprint within society that is either admired or frowned upon, living on through distant memories. What remains to be acknowledged is the fact that despite these significant deeds, adventure, drama, acceptance and unique experiences are overrated. Civilization as a whole has watched with bated breath for years the defamation and distress glamour and fame brings to the youth of the modern world, the supposed beacons of light for the future, stepping stones to something they haven’t yet seen, something fresh and new and above all, promising. So many reach out and hold these possibilities with fervour, so focused on what could be that they remain blind to the plain and often painful truth. No one has a set plan in mind, there isn’t some fairytale ending written up waiting to be executed. It’s all irrelevant in the end. Succumbing to the hands of chance and circumstance it seems all optimism is lost with only the shells of those once vibrant few littering the crevices of what they called paradise, one or two still harbouring their dreams and desires, stuck on the ‘what ifs?’ and finding no salvation.
If there was anyone born to remedy this however it would have been Mathilde Beaumont – the most unlikely candidate for restoring warmth and vivacity – if not to the grey streets and lifeless skies – than to whomever would take the time to listen.

It would only have been appropriate for the young, flighty girl to have been born to a pair of dreamers. Of course those that know the Beaumont’s personally would never have even considered that either of them should be classified as such. To be painfully honest with the risk of sounding cliché, they were made for one another. They were the type to believe in the concept of soul mates, of making the most of one’s life and living it to the fullest, that there is no such thing as coincidence. In short they fought against all of the ideals society at that time had fallen into. The dreariness of it was mind-numbing and so it should have only been expected that someone would have eventually broken the mould. Then again, things never follow through as smoothly as anyone might anticipate. That is why there really is no solid explanation as to their chance meeting. Richard Beaumont had just finished an interview with one of the biggest financial branches in London. Young, handsome and ambitious he had a slight and quite understandable spring in his step, turning into one of the golden-plated elevators and tapping the first floor button with a smile. Suddenly a woman’s voice echoed about the halls, requesting that they halt the doors. Everyone else crammed into the small space rolled their eyes and sighed but Richard extended his arm and grasped the young girl’s hand firmly in his own, effectively pulling her into the empty place alongside him just as the heavy panel slid shut. She thanked him with a sheepish grin which he found exceedingly charming and then a few moments of small talk before they reached their destination, sparing parting glances before being swept up in the hustle and bustle of the lobby.

It was the last he thought he’d ever see of her and attempted to put her out of his mind. However it proved more difficult than it should have and he found her sparkling eyes and long, brown hair materializing before his eyes every time he stepped through those doors everyday the following week. It was exactly eleven days later, the evenings had arrived that would change his life forever. It was lunch and though he could have opted for one of the vending machine’s surprises he felt that it simply wouldn’t suffice and so grabbed his overcoat and made his way downstairs and outside. A fountain bubbled despite the rain and he watched it curiously, not noticing a woman sitting there without any means of shelter from the silvery curtains of it. Under any other normal circumstance he would have simply left her to her own devices, but something about that gleaming, golden hair persuaded him otherwise. As if by an invisible rope he was drawn towards her turned back, gaze fixated upon her, examining every curve exemplified by the tight fit of her suit and her long, slender neck.

Upon reaching her and before he could say anything she’d turned around and stared him straight in the eyes, remaining like that for several minutes as the rain pounded the pavement relentlessly. They said nothing, but they both felt the wordless understanding that had passed between them in the elevator that day. It was positively electric and nothing he had ever experienced before, the air had left his lungs and he felt even the simple act of breathing had become an alien function. When he realized what was going on he felt an indescribable sensation; the feel of her soft lips against his own helped him to plant his feet firmly on the ground. There was something so enchanting about it and yet there were no words eloquent enough to adequately spell it out. When he regained his trademark cool, calm composure, he gripped her shoulders gently and pulled her to him, promising that they would have the chance to relive this impossibly blissful moment for the rest of their lives. When they married three months later, Richard had secured a well-paying job at the bank where they’d initially met and Anna had revealed the secret that would have either finalized or destroyed their union for good. Of course it was a shock to the system, something he’d had to get used to, but over time he convinced himself that it didn’t change a thing, nor his devotion to her. Her father’s connections ensured that their life would be a comfortable one and with this added reassurance they conceived their first child. She was a rambunctious little thing with quite an attitude, but they were immensely proud. Having previously agreed that they would send her to a private school for the best education possible, they moved off to Perth in Scotland, referred to one of the most privy establishments that were situated there that would suit their daughter’s temperamental needs. It might have been a tad early, but they found the premature preparations appropriate, especially considering they were expecting a second child at any time and would not need the added stress. When the first daughter was born her mother knew Mathilde was something special. With lively grey-blue eyes and a tuft of dark hair, she was as gorgeous as they came. The two girls eventually attended school together with Mathilde one year ahead of her sister. For a long while they did not get on very well, though the eldest of the two tried desperately to reach out to Marlene – never giving up until the other finally admitted that their siblingship could be something powerful.

It wasn’t long after both siblings had spent approximately a year each in highschool did the Beaumont’s decide to move to America. For one it would have been much less of a hassle getting the children to the prestigious universities they'd been accepted to and secondly because Richard had been offered a promotion which required that he return to the city if he wanted to remain with his family for longer than a few days at a time. With the money and means to do it, they found it the best option and uprooted Mathilde from the home she’d grown accustomed to, replacing it with something more fast-paced and exciting. However the effect quickly wore off and she found herself longing for the rich Scottish countryside and the fresh air. The people here were far less friendly and she’d noticed that her parents had become less and less attentive since they’d returned. Since her father’s hours had increased ten-fold, he rarely spent time out of his office and her mother busied herself with preparing dinner parties for his privileged clients as well as her own. It was during this rough patch that she came to depend for the first time upon her sister, and Marlene did not let her down. At least not to begin with. They provided one another with the needed emotional support but as Marlene grew continuously more wild, Mathilde found herself standing in her sister’s shadow, the reverse of what it had always been. She didn’t know where to turn when her parent’s fought or what to do when a long period of loneliness had ensued. The former vibrancy in her mother’s eyes had faded and no longer did they derive joy from one another’s presence as they used to. There was only duty and expectations and standards. They all adapted over time of course, as people do when they are forced into such a disagreeable situation and Mathilde has attempted with all her might to continue to be the prime example of what a child of hope should be. She wanted to give her parents something to look forward to when they retired, to admire when they had a moment and for her sister to consider as a healthier option to her superfluous ways.

Achieving her dream of earning herself a PhD and graduating from medical school, it wasn't long before someone quite infamous for his unorthodox skill and talent was replacing his medical staff. With her elite academic history and determination, Mathilde managed to land herself an interview with Doctor Gregory House and got the job. The real question is, does she really know what she's getting herself into?

Family Relationships;

Anna Beaumont (nee Windsor) | Mother | Socialite | Marlene's mother does what most stay at home mothers do best -- shop and waste their husband's money. Though Marlene naturally has a strong bond with her mother, Mrs. Beaumont always favoured Mathilde over Marlene.
Richard Beaumont | Father | Retired| Marlene and her father are extremely close, especially since he pushed her to always do well and of course, he favoured her slightly more than he favoured his oldest daughter, Mathilde.
Marlene Beaumont | Sister | Mathilde's younger sister, unsteady relationship and rivalry.

Your RP;

‘We're under the illusion that the lives, loves, mores and money of the rich and famous are more interesting, important and worthy of attention than our own. It's just another symptom of how messed up every aspect of our media-driven culture is.’

Her memory had kicked into overdrive upon exiting the highway, fingers clenched tightly upon the steering wheel of the incredibly sleek black Porsche she’d rented for a pretty penny just two days earlier. It was true; the media had warped the collective minds of society, deluding the most impressionable into believing that if you weren’t beautiful and popular, you were nobody. An intelligent looking woman with stern features had spoken those very words on a late-night news program about a year ago, and the petite blonde staring rigidly at the road recalled them as though she were hearing them for the first time. Lori Snyder was as far from being a part of the superficial crowd that affixed themselves to the idea of achieving aesthetic perfection as one could get. Of course she was young and attractive with silvery-blue eyes, silky hair and a nice pair of legs but she didn’t make her appearance her top priority. She could care less if the tall, statuesque man waiting for the elevator noticed her as she sauntered by and she was confident the gossip that circulated about the office was not focused on whatever cashmere blouse she’d pulled on in the morning. That evening however, would prove itself the single exception to this rule. For a few hours she was going to have to pull off the exaggerated persona of the very same snooty glamazons whom graced the glossy covers of magazines, and to a tee. She couldn’t afford to screw this up. Suddenly the weighty realization of what she could possibly be sacrificing settled upon her shoulders and breathing became significantly more difficult. If she compromised this mission, it wasn’t just her well-being on the line, it was her job and reputation as well … her livelihood. Was she doing the right thing? God, she hoped so.

The fact of the matter was that Lori had never technically been assigned to do undercover work. On the contrary, she’d barely received any training that might have qualified her to take on such a project. But she’d always been incredibly ambitious and resented that she’d been sitting behind a desk shuffling papers for the past few months when she could have been doing something much more productive; something that showcased her intelligence and willingness to prove her worth as an agent. What she’d mistakenly overlooked however – and what could potentially prove to be her ultimate downfall – was that along with being a smart woman, she was also a cynical, judgemental one and the environment she was about to force herself to adapt to and take seriously was of the same calibre, in her opinion, as something particularly degrading. She couldn’t understand how anyone could cope with the monotonous schedule of endless parties and petty conversation that revolved around pricey vehicles, shoes and the hottest affairs. It was all so completely staged. Although the ridiculous amounts of money they received simply to show their faces for an hour or so was plenty motivation to endure such tediousness. Lori also accepted that she shouldn’t have been one to talk, especially about something she didn’t have any real experience with. Besides, she was guilty of finding pleasure in the ‘disguise’ she’d invested in for the little soiree being hosted at none other than the North Shields pub. The height of elegance and wealth, her splurging had been both excusable and necessary for the occasion. Before she knew it, she was pulling into the long, twisting driveway that led up to the classy establishment, gloved fingers smoothing the fancy crème and burgundy invitation as she waited in a procession of Mercedes Benz, Lamborghinis and BMWs. After a few moments her window was rolling down to allow the courteous voice of the valet whom accepted the invitation, scanned it vigorously and then kindly directed her to the front. Nodding her head and swallowing hard, she pulled up to a brightly-lit entrance complete with rolled out carpet and ornate white and gold doors.

Wondering what she was supposed to do and instantly intimidated by the gorgeous, made-up women hanging from the arms of their equally impressive husbands; Lori was about to make a last-minute escape before another young man in uniform opened her door for her and took her slender hand in his. Helping her to her heeled feet with a gracious smile she found herself returning it and allowed him to drive off in search of a parking spot, leaving the clueless blonde alone and uncertain amongst the most privileged people of Virginia. Distracting herself with the exterior of the building, Lori decided that this must be a special evening, as it normally was much more casual during the day – at least from what she’d read on the net. With newfound resolve she lifted her chin and forced herself to move forward into the lobby of the pub. All she remembered of those first few seconds was the incredible warmth, light and noise. Hundreds of voices assaulted her from every angle, no words making themselves clear as she passed as gracefully as she could through the throng. Delicious scents of various smoked meats, fruit tarts and coffee had her wandering in the general direction of the refreshments but before she could make it further than a few steps someone was pressing a chilled flute of something slushy and pink in her hand. Stirring it awkwardly, she continued towards a lesser-populated corner of the room and stood solitarily, turning to examine herself in a large gilded mirror. To be quite frank, she looked the part. The crushed satin cocktail dress she’d chosen fit her slender figure like a glove, accentuating all the curves she did possess and bringing out the full potential of others she didn’t. The front was high-collared but in style while the back exposed the entire length of her spine and creamy, fair skin. The hem fell to rest just above the knee which allowed her to show off her fetching legs and shoes. Delicate wrists boasted an antique diamond bracelet, matching the dangling earrings that glittered for open eyes due to the lack of hair that she normally would have taken to hiding behind. Instead the soft, golden tendrils had been curled and piled loosely atop her head, some ringlets falling to brush against her temples and neck.

Lori herself was impressed with what she’d accomplished, and the entire look paired with neutral shades of rose, bronze and gold for a feminine but tidy make-up pallet, she was beginning to fool herself into thinking she actually belonged. But that was not what she was there for and reality made a painful arrival with the assent of Nicholas Portelli’s handsome face. It had haunted her ever since she’d begun to study his file. Surprisingly little was know of his personal background, but there were leads that had been sitting on her computer for a very long time, leads that led her in circles and had prompted this entire escapade. She was determined to earn the credit she deserved and if this was how she could do it, then so be it.
She would seek him out and get to know him in the most intimate fashion available to her. And with that, she took a sip of her drink and smiled.

;Anything else?

name;; Claire
years roleplaying;; Eight, give or take.
location;; Canada
How You found us;; Red Carpet and Rebellion

[Dr Lisa Cuddy]

Accepted!!
Wonderful application, I'm very glad you found us!