#inferisintro
Text
* hello my babiess , vee here , u can’t see me but i just did the gross wink & finger guns thing . . . you know the one . / anyways this is my son , my tol garbage fire edgelord supreme ; dominic malvado . luv him , let him luv u . ( his pinterest board can be found here ( x ) , his inspo blog here ( x ) and use this tag here ( x ) as a potential dynamics / relationships / connections page ) anyways ily all , enjoy the mess you’re abt to read , like this & i’ll slide into ur dms for plots !!
+ BENJAMIN WADSWORTH , CIS MALE , HE / HIM , WITCH . deep in the pacific northwest lives dominic arrio malvado . i heard they’ve been living there for nearly thirty years and last saw them hanging around mount peak cemetery , i think they might’ve been up to no good . at twenty - nine years old , nic doesn’t look a day over twenty - one . hope they enjoy their stay !!
* aesthetic ; honeyed eyes rimmed with red ; serving as a cruel reminder of restless nights spent wandering aimlessly as sleep evades , notebooks & pages full of sketches and words left unsaid ; strewn about haphazardly in an unmade bed , the smell of cigarette smoke clinging softly to day - old clothes , saccharine half - smiles gracing charmingly handsome features , alcohol tainted lies that make the stars align for the night but ultimately leave him feeling more hollow come daybreak , old scars marring delicate flesh ; a stark contrast to the fresh bruises his knuckles hold and the bloody split that kisses his lips , the weight of expectations stacked so high that even standing on tiptoes can’t possibly reach , tired hands running through perfectly unkempt curls coming to rest at the nape of one's neck & ink - stained fingertips ; telling the tale behind another's story .
* character parallels ; kaz brekker ( six of crows ) , stefan salvatore ( vampire diaries ) , seth gecko ( from dusk til dawn ) , ryan atwood ( the oc ) , jake peralta ( brooklyn nine - nine ) , marcus lopez arguello ( deadly class ) , mike munroe ( until dawn ) , eddie kaspbrak ( it ) , steve harrington ( stranger things ) , jess mariano ( gilmore girls ) , nicholas scratch ( the chilling adventures of sabrina ) .
* trigger warning ; child abuse , domestic violence , neglect , death , alcohol & drug use .
+ the malvado name is one that’s been around for centuries , dating back to the early 1500s . a very powerful , incredibly successful and highly feared family . known for their proficiencies in dark magic , they did everything they could to get ahead , unrelenting and ruthless . if you stood in their way , it wouldn’t be for long .
+ dominic’s parents got married at a very young age . a loveless arranged marriage brought to be by their two respective covens as a show of ‘ good faith ’ and peace . the son of a great warlock and the daughter of a powerful witch , together they would stand and show them all that no matter the differences , the two covens could coexist .
+ not long after their marriage , dominic was born . an heir to what they would leave behind , a soft small boy that would carry on the malvado name . do right by them , make them proud . and so he would try , doing whatever his father would ask of him , without question . keep quiet , play nice , “ don’t make me tell you again ” . his father was , after all , a prodigy , a manipulator and a good one at that . and every day dominic would grow to look more and more like his father . ( a carbon copy of bad decisions and regrets that he only would later come to learn . )
+ his mother , if you ask nic . . . he can’t remember the last time he’s seen her smile . lifeless and cold , day after day she’ll sit in the same spot and not utter a single word . his aunts would tell him stories of when she was younger ; how her smile could light up a room , and her voice could be compared to that of angels singing . stories of a girl full of passion , and life , who held love for all things , especially small and beautiful . for dominic , hard to believe . . he’s only ever known her this way , to him , she’s always been melancholy stares and dark eyes . beautiful , broken and absent .
+ the nights his father would come home , the smell of whiskey clinging to his breath he would tell dominic about how it had all been his fault . how he was to blame for the state of his mother . she had changed after he was born . had he listened more , had he been a good boy , she wouldn’t have been this disappointed . she would have then wanted him more , cared for him . ( his father of course , was a massive piece of shit . ) nights like these would only ever end one way , bruised and broken , much like his mother . his father would beat him with whatever he could find . for a man so very well versed in the dark arts he never did use magic , his fists were enough . it’s here dominic learned how to fight , and never really stopped since .
+ once school started for dominic it meant more freedom , away from the toxic environment he calls a home and away from the man that breathes down his neck ever moment of every day . do better , be better , be stronger , learn more . too many expectations thrust upon a little boy . as dominic grew older he started listening less and less . rebelling , first in small ways and slowly but gradually less subtle and harder to ignore . the consequences not really mattering to him anymore , having become more than used to the punishments he would endure at the hands of his father . his body a battleground of scars to show for his work . he would become his own person , not the person he had been groomed to be since birth . he had been living his life for his father , and his father couldn’t have cared less about what this meant for his son . he would take back his life piece by broken piece and glue it all together again .
+ a year before dominic’s 18th birthday his mother passed away . unusual for a witch of her age but the truth was she had died a long time ago . no�� one thought about it twice , and some even saw it as a relief . for years everyone had watched his mother deteriorate . after that , there was nothing keeping dominic at home anymore . he barely returned back there except from night to night , using it merely as a place to sleep . some nights not even bothering to return at all . come his eighteenth birthday nic was out of the malvado house . by this time nic was far too old to control and as much as he tried his father saw that it had no use left . he had lost him , rightfully - fucking - so .
+ dominic was supposed to be a leader . . like his father . always like his father , a fighter , a fraud , a fucking monster . it had become everything he had grown to hate . but as much as he loathed it there was something underneath , a feeling he couldn’t quite pinpoint , something dark , something dangerous he wouldn’t dare admit . mostly because he was afraid yet mesmerized by the power that he felt growing inside of him . he’s yet to love anyone but the rush , the high that accompanies a fight , a magicless fight , bare hands , skin to skin , the sound of cracking bones and the smell of fresh blood . . . it’s the closet he likes to think he’ll ever come .
+ after that , finding a job was easy , he started small , an apprenticeship at the local tattoo parlour that over the years grew into so much more . ( dark ) magic infused tattooing had never been this interesting and he was the best at what he did . his own skin turned from a cemetary of scars to the canvas he had been looking for all along . people expected much of him , a big speaker a born to be leader , to be this malvado heir , this regal , lavish thing , but he’s all hoodies and leather jackets , bruised knuckles and split lips , dark alleyways and illicit drugs . a far cry from the boy who used to sit back and be quiet , do as daddy said .
* personality : on the exterior dominic is a charismatic & intelligent guy ( like all malvado men ) that has the world at his fingertips . however the deeper you go the more pain you’ll find . this is one of the reasons why nic’s very guarded by nature ( as well as because he doesn’t want anyone to discover who he really is behind the facade . ) at times explosive , ( fight him pls !!! ) his patience with certain things has grown thinner over the years and he tends to be easily agitated . as stubborn & sarcastic as they come , uses humor as a form of self preservation . though a total charmer he does suffer from ‘ sloppy bitch ’ syndrome and tends to self - sabotage a good thing when the realisation hits him . likes picking fights and petty arguments just for shits & giggles . his loud mouth has gotten him into trouble before but being the suave little fucker he is he tends to talk himself out of shit easy . because he hasn’t had many real or serious relationships he isn’t inclined to allow himself to form deep or more intimate bonds , ( afraid that if he lets his guard down and enjoys himself or lets himself be happy it’ll all disappear and he’ll be left alone , again . ) but the people he is close with he trusts unconditionally , and would p much die for them .
#inferisintro#did i let myself go wit this a lil???#ya definitely#do i care????#no waiii#luv my son pls#that is all#gOOdnight <3
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
well , howdy doody !! i'm m & this here is my baby son , joon-ho , but you can call him joon or joonie. he's heavily inspired by one of my favorite human beings — my older brother. also i've been wanting to play tae in a group for a long while now , but i haven't found a good fit for us. —— until now. anyway , as per usual , under the cut , you'll find some random stats & background info & headcanons ... if you'd like to plot , send me a message or tap that lil' hearty heart & i'll bug you !
KIM TAEHYUNG, CISMALE, HE/HIM, WITCH (ARMIS) / deep in the pacific northwest lives JOON-HO PARK. i heard they’ve been living there for twenty-three years and last saw them hanging around the wilderness, i think they might’ve been reading an old grimoire. at twenty-three years old, joonie doesn’t look a day over twenty-three. everyone around here always associates them with chapped lips, adult coloring books, and the distant glow of flickering candles. hope they enjoy their stay !
tw : v slight mentions of violence , abuse , mental health struggles.
LOOSE BACKGROUND !!
joonie grew up rather ... twisted , to say the least. he was abused — physically , verbally , sexually , the only nine yards — by his mother's boyfriend , when he was very young. & he told his mother , but she was too drunk to believe him.
his mom , & her boyfriend , died from the drugs & alcohol addictions when he was a teenager.
he's dealt with severe anxiety , random but common spouts of depression , & anger problems ever since he was a kid because of the way he was raised , & everything he went through as a child. — it all just progressively got more and more intense after his mom died.
he often feels untouchable because of the power he wields. he uses his magic for good , most of the time. but when he gets drunk & pissed off... oh , boy. you better watch your back.
he's not gay. he's definitely not straight. — he's still figuring out who he is. he's young , & has all the time in the world to figure himself out , but it can be frustrating not having a sincere grasp of who you are.
MESSY HEADCANONS !!
can be e x t r e m e l y blunt & off - putting at times.
but can also be super soft & has the sweetest heart ?? when it comes to children , that's where his softest spot really lies. he's v good with them , & desperately wants to have a few babes of his own in the distant , distant , DISTANT ( clicky click ) future.
has severe commitment issues. so , when you happen to earn his trust ( if you're lucky ) , you've gotta work hard to keep it. but you also should note that you'll have someone in your life who will willingly go to hell & back for you.
he's a total thrill - seeker. the more dangerous something is , the more likely it is that he'll enjoy it.
idk , my friends , that's all i can really think of right now ?? if you've read through all of this , just know that ilysm. <3 i genuinely can't wait to get to know y'all & your muses better. i look so forward to writing with you!! :)))))))
#inferisintro#jnfdksghdahgf this is a hot mess#i#am so sorry <3#i'll be workin on my coursework for a bit#so pls pls message me & i'll reply asap !
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
JAMIE CAMPBELL BOWER, CIS MALE, HE/HIM, GHOST / deep in the pacific northwest lives RONAN CALLUM WALSH. i heard they’ve been living there for 5 years and last saw them hanging around blackwood library, i think they might’ve been engrossed in studying. at thirty years old, ronan doesn’t look a day over twenty-five. everyone around here always associates them with a coffee cup on a stack of books, green moss covering a lake, and round rim glasses on a windowsill. hope they enjoy their stay !
born and raised in killarney, ireland
birthday is september 2nd 1989
youngest of five children
father is irish, mother is american
his parents were very religious when he was growing up
he was 10 when they officially moved to america
they moved to be closer to his mother’s family
he was often ignored since he was the youngest
he was also mistreated by his relatives
he came out as gay in high school
this was disappointing to his catholic family
his family disowned him the second he turned 18
he originally went to portland oregon
he unfortunately got mixed with the wrong crowd
he got to a point where he couldn’t function without being high
he traveled around oregon during this time
he never really had a place to stay
though he gained some very unwanted attention
guys would hit on him when he was high
but none really ever took it too far
that is until he met paul
paul was his dealer in a town a few miles from arcane falls
he moved out there when he turned 24
he lived with this man for almost a year
paul progressively changed to a creeper
he forcibly made moves on ronan one day
he took it too far, way too far
ronan tried to get clean after that
it was difficult with stress and humiliation
he relapsed several times before he couldn’t take anymore
it seemed like a blink before he woke up again
though this time it was in the cemetery in arcane falls
his guilt over his life brought him back as his regret
he wished he had lived his life a little differently
he didn’t even realize that something brought him back
#m;#m; past#inferisintro#drug use tw#suicide tw#rape tw#(also sorry that this probably makes no sense)
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
hello, hello, its the double pisces you litcherally never asked for. i went into the tags, found this serotonin gyllenhaal and then accidentally named him after the new, popular character he plays on turkish tv after googling male names for 1 hour straight. if that doesn’t just explain who i am as a person i don’t know what else will. i’m twenty-three and legally cannot do math or i will explode. thank you for dealing with me and sorry in advanced but i can’t and won’t be tamed.
ÇAĞLAR ERTUĞRUL, MALE, HE/HIM, HELLHOUND / deep in the pacific northwest lives KEREM HAZAR. i heard they’ve been living there for a year and last saw them hanging around mount peak cemetery, i think they might’ve been tending to the forgotten grave markers. at three hundred and eleven years old, rem doesn’t look a day over thirty. everyone around here always associates them with the phantom warmth of a flickering flame, the rich timbre of an old engine roaring to life, and the icy smell of spearmint. hope they enjoy their stay ! ( naomi, pst, she/her, 23 )
B A S I C I N F O R M A T I O N
LEGAL NAME: Kerem ‘Rem’ Hazar
DATE OF BIRTH: December 12th / sagittarius
GENDER | SPECIES | Male / Hellhound
LIKE[S]: Winning, the smell of leather, fruit punch
DISLIKE[S]: Losing, Lack of effort, Intolerance, Cheating
FEAR[S]: no fears . *taxes* .. one fear.
PERSONALITY TRAITS: + CONFIDENT, STRONG-WILLED, SELF-DISCIPLINED – RECKLESS, OVERLY COMPETITIVE.
P H Y S I C A L I N F O R M A T I O N
HAIR COLOR: Brown
EYE COLOR: Blue
HEIGHT: 6′2″
BUILD: Athletic, Fit,
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: he always looks well-rested. very sus
STYLE: grey henleys, grey jeans, worn docs, he’s a casual guy with casual style
TATTOOS/PIERCINGS: brand of the hunt on his left peck.
R E L A T I O N S H I P I N F O R M A T I O N
SEXUAL PREFERENCE: bisexual
RELATIONSHIP STAT: legally allowed to leave if no one addresses him directly within 5 minutes of entering a room
pinboard //
more on rem
fire-fighter and certified emt
earth-toned babe who wears mostly greys and browns.
he wears glasses without a prescription because he thinks it makes him more approachable but he often just leaves them around and makes more work for himself by having to go out and hunt for them
lives in a one bedroom apt on the 8th floor of a moderately priced building that has a fire escape - which he uses more often the actual entrance
pet german shepphard named beef stew,
yes beef is a rescue and yes, sometimes rem can be found shouting beef around the block if the four year old pup gets out while he’s gone.
very easy going - he has few personal rules and a few things he stands his ground on but for the most part he’s agreeable and will go anywhere he’s invited.
loves carbonara
runs hot and likes winter but hates it at the same time because he has to carry a jacket around for looks. but on the bright side he always has a jacket for anyone who gets chilly
throughout the years he’s become really good at making bread. he proofs them in mason jars and holds them in his hands to cook them to buttery, flaky perfection
+ insert obsessive hobby here +
hellhound
other hellhounds know them as CEMRE a name they first picked up from a turkish mountain woman. she had muttered it softly at first, watching in awe and horror as they emerged unscathed from the flames that both announced their arrival on earth and wiped out an entire villiage in the frigid remnants of winter that is now known as february.
walks the line of true neutral and chaotic neutral
when actively hunting they are known to do whatever it takes. but when dormant, they are nonplused with the whims of the factions - as long as the supernatural world is properly hidden from the mass populace.
has a preference for ghosts over banshees, but likes both well enough.
thinks witches are good fun because the only one who could demand things of him died a hundred years ago
has no generalized notion about other hellhounds.
understands werewolves in a primal sense but finds them dramatic
not too keen on vampires because the dead should remain dead
actively hunting dragons
connection ideas
bed brewing & beyond - a witch or demon hook up that he can call on for big asks. or he could go out and fetch things for them for $$$ of course. like uber eats but its a nymph skull and he’s covered in blood and its the 90s
casually dating - needless to say, he’s thirty and not even married. so he’s basically on the verge of death or something right? lol . so they casually date and appear at functions together, but its nothing over the top. he has the worst hours but tries to make time for them -- is what im imagining. but we can definitely tweak this to fit ur muse.
TRINITY chasing divinity - i’ve been in love with the idea of angels, of these celestial beings and what it must be like to choke on humanity. so why not just force that on my muse lol. i’d love fo him to just be infatuated ( so no pressure of requited feelings or nothing ) with a creature that exudes purity when he himself was created by the combined power of a demon and a dark witch
dd - besides being, ya know, literal fire, his metabolism burns through everything like it’s nothing. so you can 100% invite him for a night out and he will be your designated driver -- unless he has work of course. then you can call him, wasted af, and he will use his 15 minute break to come get you and tuck you in to bed.
everlasting mario kart - i know mk didn’t exist in the 90s or whatever, but basically they’re both immortals so they can and should fuck each other up ( in a siblings type way ) but the stakes are higher because they can survive most blow backs.
good omens - except we’re not on either side, we don’t care about the kid, and you’ve burnt the popcorn. good going paul
DRU AGOSTI lighthouses in the night -- i’ve been alive for a long time, you’ve been alive a long time. STOP MENTIONING THE TIME I WAS AN ICELANDIC SHEEP FARMER I WAS UNDERCOVER Jfc, yes of course i still know the best way to make sheep milk fuck you. wishing you a crap equinox you smug bitch
same face who dis - obvi has to be someone who can die but. he swears he’s seen you before. its just wild that you look so familiar. you remember me right? and he keeps on call ing your muse the wrong name and unlearning the things that he had previously learned. super flexi back story. heck i’ll even take two if people like it. could be exes, enemies, they fought in a war together and were brothers, they sailed across the ocean and it was very gay and also someone had scruvy? so many options! too many to list!
supermassive blackhole -- please invite him to the vampire baseball games. he can keep up i promise!!
or let’s brainstorm?! im bi and a pisces so i will just be happy for the attention honestly.
that’s it. that’s all i could think of during dbd. i will add more as i think of them/as we plot some out. i’m going to shower and eat an ice cream sandwich . peace out my dudes catcha ya on the other side
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
hello ! shay here and this is my lil’ banshee bb roisin. she has the start of a pinterest board here (x) and has a page for her overall stats here (x). she’s still a work in progress but i love her and i hope you all do too !!!
MADELAINE PETSCH, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER, BANSHEE / deep in the pacific northwest lives ROISIN ALANNAH WALSH. i heard they’ve been living there for four years and last saw them hanging around the devil’s brew cafe, i think they might’ve been drinking coffee to offset the effects of rampant insomnia. at twenty-five years old, roisin doesn’t look a day over twenty-one. everyone around here always associates them with lips painted the color of bruised blackberries, the edges of a worn tarot deck clutched in an anxious grasp, and the clear quartz pendulum hung on sterling silver around the sweep of her neck. hope they enjoy their stay !
(TW: DROWNING, CANCER, SELF HARM & ALCOHOL ABUSE)
Growing up, Roisin had it all. The only child of an Irish immigrant father and American mother, she wanted for nothing. While they weren’t rich what they couldn’t afford was more than made up for in love. Her childhood home was a modest tudor situated just a half hour from the New England coastline. Having grown up in Killeen Ireland, her father believed that there wasn’t a malady that couldn’t be cured by sea sprayed caress of the ocean wind. Any malady, that is, until Roisin started transitioning into a banshee at the tender age of 16. Up until then her childhood had been rather uneventful. Highly intelligent, Roisin had breezed through school with high grades and a lengthy list of extracurriculars that would have impressed any parents. Her close knit group of friends had seen each other through from kindergarten all the way to the hallowed halls of high school. Everything was looking bright, until the summer before her sophomore year.
The days of summer vacation were numbered and not wanting to squander a single one, Roisin drove herself to the beach. The ocean was deceivingly calm on that Tuesday afternoon, so much so that Roisin was drawn out further than she realized. By the time that awareness had set in she had already started to panic, her lungs drawing in great gasps of air and her limbs flailing in a desperate bid to save herself. As she slid down into the depths she couldn’t help but wonder at the sight of her copper curls against the sunlit blue of the Atlantic. Her next memories were of salt chapped lips and the push of air through a nasal cannula. The Catholic priest at her bedside whispered to her distraught parents of miracles and her deliverance to the shore with the kind of absolute faith she would come to envy.
Roisin could have sworn that part of her died that day.
That following winter, on one dreary December night Roisin experienced her first vision— one of her mother, paper skin clinging to a wasted body that was surrounded by a chorus of beeping machines and pumping IVs. The cacophony of sound slowly faded until the only noise she could hear was the rattling sound of her mother’s last breath. So frightened by this experience was Roisin that she insisted her mother make an appointment to see her doctor. The news came less than a month later— Constance Walsh had stage four breast cancer. She would not live to see the next year.
The mind she once trusted to solve math problems or buoy her through the valley of grief began to betray her. Roisin was plagued by the onset of nightmares foretelling of all kinds of death and destruction. Even her waking moments were not safe. The once bubbly and precocious girl became withdrawn and hedonistic, her schooling and friendships falling to the wayside as she became trapped in the prison of her own mind. Seeking solace from these thoughts, Roisin turned to self-harm and alcohol to furnish a temporary escape. The reprieve they offered sustained her through to her high school graduation. Without the familiar structure that school offered or any kind of direction for what she wanted for her future, Roisin’s destructive tendencies amped up. Unwilling to lose his daughter, Breccan Walsh had Roisin admitted to a psychiatric stay. The irritation of being pulled out of her reverie soon gave way to a kindling hope that the doctors would be able to help her. This hope was blighted as she descended into visions of the staff and patients around her. She was released, weeks later, her system laden with prescriptions that left her numb and blank.
As the years went on Roisin started to claw her way out of the dark hole of her mind. While the visions and nightmares still plagued her, she started to find ways of coping that were, albeit marginally, better than what she had turned to before. Reading and a steady caffeine addiction allowed her to combat insomnia. Unable to accept a faith that allowed for such suffering, Roisin turned to atheism. She channeled her clairvoyance and the anxiety that accompanied it into reading tarot cards. Anything that could make her feel some semblance of normal was fair game. In that vein of thought, Roisin started researching her symptoms— a choice that would lead her to move to Arcane Falls at the age of 21.
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
heya! it’s dean and you can tell this thing was made out of boredom because it was totally unnecessary, but i am bored during my lunch break so —
i hope you enjoy reading this??? intro???
basics:
full name: terrence jayden (but goes by river terrence jayden since she was bitten — prefers river over terrence)
nicknames: river, jade (only aleks is allowed to call her this if he ever does.)
title: beta
age: thirty five
birthday: august 4, 1962
birthplace: twin falls, idaho
hometown: twin falls, idaho
current location: arcane falls, oregon
nationality: american
ethnicity: caucasian
sexuality: bisexual homoromantic
languages: english — lycan?
appearance:
hair color: dirty blonde
eye color: blue
complexion: pale in an eternal state of muddy
height: 5'10"
tattoos: none
piercings: earlobes, left helix
scars: quite a lot all over her back, some on her legs and her hands — mostly from hunting, some of them from having to fight off idiots.
personality:
positive traits: mischievous, occasionally generous, extremely loyal
negative traits: impatient, cynical, lazy
mbti: istp-t, the virtuoso
moral alignment: lawful neutral
zodiac sign: leo sun, virgo moon
family:
father: terry jayden, deceased, forgotten
alpha: bishop aleksander king, recognized father, no one else.
mother: never knew
siblings: none
pets: black and brown yorkie puppy
other significant relatives: none
health & medical:
allergies: no significant allergies (no one’s supposed to know, anyway.)
smokes: no
drinks: yes
drugs: no
eating habits: horrible eating habits. doesn’t eat breakfast, but consumes an unhealthy amount of cold coffee. we’re talking 3 glasses of cold coffee at her favorite coffee shop. she eats a heavy meal during lunch and a light meal for dinner.
exercise habits: she always goes for a run at least two hours a day (mostly after lunch or after dinner) and is a regular visitor of the local gym. prefers to workout with her alpha, though.
misc:
theme song: woman - karen o, danger mouse
favorite animal: dogs and horses
favorite shows: none
favorite movies: the lost world: jurassic park
music taste: never tells anybody (except aleks) but she loves herself a night of silence with the beatles’ tape playing in the background.
bits and pieces:
she was born to a set of drug addicts, conceived while a pair of heads were high up in the clouds, and was born to a dying mother and a confused father.
needless to say, all terry did right was, at least, give terrence a name.
but as she grew up, nothing else was taken into consideration. no education for her. no health benefits for her. no insurance. no nothing. she was just there on his couch, dressed precariously in his shirt and the cheapest diaper he could find in the store.
it was only a matter of time before someone called social workers about the matter. terrence was taken away from terry at ten months old and proceeds to live in the system ‘til she was eighteen.
eighteen and free, in the most unfortunate way, terrence didn’t have much with her, so she did what she knew best — steal and run.
her long legs aided her just long enough to keep her out of the police’s radar, but one, wrong turn was enough to change her life forever. in more ways than one.
she met aleksander one night and never left his side ever again. aside from owing him her life, terrence found herself treating him like the father she never knew and never had, and because of this, her loyalty lied in him and only him. she took to calling herself river, because she was near one when she first shifted, and never stopped since then.
nowadays, river spends her days making a mess of herself — literally. she’s always in the state of muddy because she works at someone’s stable some distance away from the town. she only smells normal (like a werewolf) after a thorough wash or during her day offs, because you’ll always find her smelling like horseshit.
she likes it, though. so. hides her state of lycan-ness.
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
hiii im macie (she/her) ! i’m 22 n i live in the central timezone but my sleep pattern is often all over the place so who knows when i’ll appear. i’m a recent college grad (w a degree in theatre). im super excited n nervous i hope yall like noah n if u wanna plot lmk !!!
KRISTEN BELL, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER, HUNTER / deep in the pacific northwest lives NOELLE GRACE SINCLAIR. i heard they’ve been living there for 2 1/2 weeks and last saw them hanging around the deep sea dive bar, i think they might’ve been getting tipsy and taking notes on who she sees. noah doesn’t look a day over twenty eight. everyone around here always associates them with southern belle charm, a bit of dirt on rosy cheeks, thigh high socks with weapons hidden inside. hope they enjoy their stay !
where is she from ?
she grew up in alabama, and still has her southern accent. she LOVES using pet names, always uses manners, and has a bit of a slow, soft drawl.
why is she here ?
her mother was killed by a supernatural being when she was a child--unsure of what specifically as her father never told her. they were out searching for her when they had found her body. it's something that haunts noah to this day.
her father had decided to become a hunter, desperate to avenge his wife's death. noah wasn't allowed to take part in it until she was eighteen. he couldn't imagine losing his daughter too. throughout her teenage years, her father had trained her for her future; he wanted to prepare her so she didn't end up dead too. once she was ready, noah and her father would kill creatures together.
her father tried his hardest to track down the creature that had killed noah's mother, however, it ended with his loss as well. noah wasn't there to help him. he had taken that final battle on his own, which led to noah all by herself. she decided to venture north, killing any harmful creatures in her way. she's been doing this ever since.
she dreams of being able to take down whoever killed her parents, but she still has a lot of research to do as well; her father was incredibly secretive, but she has his old journals.
who is she ?
full name: noelle grace sinclair
nicknames: noah, elle
gender identity: cis female
pronouns: she/her
sexual orientation: pansexual
mbti: isfj
zodiac sign: cancer ☼ leo ☽ libra ↑
fav song: what's up ? by 4 non blondes
[ pos. ] ditzy, chic, charming, nurturing, lively, playful, observant
[ neg. ] manipulative, impulsive, disorganized, forgetful, nosy, melodramatic
personality → noah seems to be a fairly goofy, fun-loving gal, but when she’s alone, she’s the complete opposite. but she refuses to show many that side of her, because having them feel bad for her makes her feel incredibly uncomfortable. she doesn’t open up to many often, unless she’s had too many drinks...which sometimes happens every now and then.
hobbies → she observes watching people interact and exist; she finds the hobby to be quite relaxing and wholesome...usually. you can find her scribbling in her journal little notes of people (or creatures) that she’s watched. either that or she’s probably trying to decode her father’s notes. noelle also loves drinking, partying, and flirting. she’s a party girl through n through, and she’ll gladly tell you all her crazy stories IF you ask politely.
who is she looking for ?
platonic
hunter friends → she is desperate to find other hunters. she knows she can’t catch the murderer of her parents alone. it doesn’t help that she doesn’t have many long-term friends.
partner in crime(s); friendly competition
friends → noah is incredibly friendly, but she knows not to trust everyone she meets. these are just a few exceptions.
drinking buddy; party buddy; someone she chats with until the bar closes; lackey; past travel buddy; roommate [?/1]
romantic
previous flings → it’s only been 2 1/2 weeks, but it’s still quite possible that noah has already started a couple of “close” relationships. [?/2]
a crush → nothing serious.
unrequited crush; flirtationship; friends with benefit
adversarial
“enemies” → hate is a strong word to noah. after all she’s been through, no one could compare to who killed her parents. but there’s still some people out there who bring out her sour side.
someone she distrusts; a back-stabber; past friend turned enemy; frenemy; complete opposite
if you would like to see anymore wanted connections, click anywhere on this sentence !!!
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘃𝗲 , 𝘃𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗲𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗮𝗯𝗲𝘁𝗵 . / ❛ part of me is always going to be a teenage girl , screaming into rivers & watching herself weep in the mirror . sometimes my hair grows like a curse word . my lipstick smears , and my teeth find a new hysteria to fantasise about . i still identify as a HATEFUL BITCH . ❜
aesthetics.
the plantive scratch of a needle on well-loved vinyl record ( it’s the smiths, it’s always going to be the smith ), and the way tendrils of honeyed hair will always fall into downcast hues / girlhood as demonhood, claws instead of bitten nails, jagged fangs replace pearly whites that sit complacent and nonthreatening inside the honeytrap of your mouth. a white-hot anger that sears something fierce and desperate at the back of your throat ( sullen, bitter, buring to be spoken instead of screamed ), bruised fist clasped around a picket and a pipe dream, jaw sets in dogged determination. paid, faded band t-shits, a half-drunk starbucks americano and a copy of the female eunuch and the bell jar alike. juxtaposition of your lives: ironed dress and delicate jewels, politesse embedded within dna ( not nature, all nurture ) versus loose thread at the bottom of your jeans, a hole in threadbare converse ; careworn in every sense of the word.
dossier.
named: violet elizabeth lovegrove. nicknamed: vi, nothing else if you value any semblance of life you have left. variety of affectionate pet names cast by elder brothers and sisters alike, but fuck if she’s telling anyone about those.
aged: technically, twenty - eight. ( curious incident of the girl in the night - time, anyone ?? a careless lean out the window / a cecilia lisbon moment if ever there was one, something crimson and sticky on a picket fence. an accidental suicide, but probably not. ) forever twenty now, picture - perfect imprint of a life half - lived.
lineage: fourth of four children born to aurelia and edward lovegrove, late insurance legends and fraudsters. moved to arcane falls from ireland to avoid the troubles but couldn’t find it in themselves to drop the accents. ran a successful insurance scheme that painted itself as a ‘scheme for the people’ when it was, in fact, very much not that. cue uncomfortable riches and four children born not for a genuine desire for a family, but for a glossier picture in the paper. fleur lux, miles david, ezra james and violet elizabeth ; brunette, lovely, heartachingly sad if you look at them too long. edward and aurelia drop off this mortal coil a few days befor fleur’s eighteenth birthday ( and by drop off, we mean shameless murder that may or may not have been organised by their own eldest child but we don’t have time to unpack all of that ! )
childhood: vaguely touched upon, but hey siri, how do we define depressing ? / a childhood entirely devoid of parental affection. raised by siblings barely older than you, hours spent in the library, family dinners where everyone picks at immaculately - prepared five - course meals. developed a taste for activism based sheerly on how much her parents hated the idea of any of their children having ideas of their own, but found a genuine passion for it that transcended the desire to piss off the parents. started attending protests at thirteen, got arrested for the first time at fourteen. her rap sheet’s impressive by the time she’s eighteen / can’t sit still, can’t keep quiet ; has to be the loudest voice, has to scream her mind instead of speak it.
present: head cunty spectre at mount peak cemetery. can be found perched upon varying gravestones, probably reading and/or throwing stones at passersby. currently loving the nineties --- - something about the fashion speaks to her. hasn’t showed herselves to her siblings yet, and has no real plans to ( she doesn’t know to go about it without upsetting themselves and herself and the whole thing’s a fucking wreck, but anyways ! ) just kind of a wreck but make it grungey and depressing. still wears a crucifix that her grandmother gave her before they left ireland, despite an inherent lack of faith in just about everything. the librarians keep noticing books going missing and ending up mysteriously piled on her gravesite --- - funny about that, isn’t it ?
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
ALISHA BOE , CISFEMALE , SHE / HER , WITCH (ARMIS) / deep in the pacific northwest lives LORELAI “RORY” NORMAN. i heard they’ve been living there for a year and last saw them hanging around mount peak cemetary, i think they might’ve been brewing a potion. at twenty-four years old, rory doesn’t look a day over twenty-two. everyone around here always associates them with messy brown curls, cozy cardigans, gingerbread latte. hope they enjoy their stay !
hey there ! it’s alex here , a 20 year old from the gmt timezone & i’m super excited to be here. i’m gonna try and keep this short & on point , then i’m gonna add some wanted connections at the end of this so !! feel free to im me on tumblr or d.iscord ( find the scarlet witch icon , that me your chaotic trash ) !
TW HOUSE FIRE , ACCIDENT / MURDER , GRIEF MENTIONS !!
alright so, basic info on her. full name’s lorelai yet she ?? never really uses it. she’s just rory and when you address her with her full name , it’ll most likely be bc she’s in trouble or sth.
at her early twenties , she’s quite a young witch ! she didn’t have the opportunity to practice her magic a lot before since her parents had decided to live a life away from the coven and with minimal magic used but for the past year , she’s been here & studying her magic properly.
a little over a year ago , she lost her parents due to a house fire. it’s been ruled as an accident since , yet she isn’t convinced. after months of spending time alone in grief , she decided to join her grandmother’s ( and her parents’ old ) coven in order to help her studies and tbh , feel a sense of belonging again.
currently, her goal is to find out the truth behind her parents’ deaths while practicing her magic & build her life over again.
she’s overall kind , a little sarcastic , fun-loving in her own sense and is just ... the Autumn Vibes ™ ! doesn’t like arrogance and people who come onto others in an unnecessarily aggressive way but she’s always fair to give people a chance at least.
WANTED CONNECTIONS : a BEST FRIEND - she gained during her stay here for the last year. / a ROOMMATE ( or two ! ) - one of them could also be her best friend. a MENTOR - while her grandmother assist in her studies, it’d be nice to have someone else bring a different light to it. a BIG SISTER/BROTHER KIND OF connection - someone who acts protective over her and probably annoys her a bit, all in good intentions on both sides though, simply a sibling connection without blood. maybe a FLIRTATIONSHIP - probably not serious but they have a fun friendship with lots of back and forth teasing. & ANYTHING ELSE you would like tbh !!
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
RICHARD MADDEN, CIS MALE, HE/HIM, BETA WEREWOLF (SOLIS) / deep in the pacific northwest lives ASHER KING. i heard they’ve been living there for seventeen years and last saw them hanging around blackwoods library, i think they might’ve been returning an overdue book. at thirty years old, ash doesn’t look a day over thirty. everyone around here always associates them with the stress of running late, in jokes between siblings, ugly scars hidden under sweaters. hope they enjoy their stay ! ( belle )
ok so a little bit of background: i’ve been playing asher for like three years now. he’s my idiot child, but never in a supernatural rp so this is going to be new for all of us.
INSPO:
remus lupin (harry potter),
dick grayson (dc)
robb stark (game of thrones)
bill hanscom ( IT )
STATS:
name: ASHER KING
age: 30
gender: CIS!MALE
sexuality: HOMOSEXUAL
species: WEREWOLF (SOLIS PACK)
hometown: PORTLAND MAINE
personality: PLAYFUL, INSECURE, RASH, OBSTINANT, OPTIMISTIC
BACKSTORY:
asher’s mother did the best she could, being a single mother in the 1970s could not have been easy and the memories that ash has of her are positive. regardless of this it is important to note that ash grew up knowing the importance of responsibility. With his mother often at work he grew up caring for his younger siblings. the chaotic nature of his family never even really crossing his mind.
still this period in his life could not last forever and the authorities got involved when asher was twelve years old. it had become clear that his mother could no longer care for them and as a result the children were separated for their best chance. asher moving in with his mother’s elder sister and her husband in non other then arcane falls.
at fourteen poor little asher didn’t really stand a chance after a run in with an omega wolf on a full moon night. far too late did he realise that his aunts stories were not some kind of small town superstition, but rather something very real. the shock of a werewolf in front of him meant he didn’t really even process what had happened until he was in the hospital room.
his aunt and uncle had of course heard rumours about what happened within town limits and yet despite this they simply chose to ignore what was likely happening to their nephew. asher thus had no one, and that first full moon was the most terrifying experience of his life.
really it wasn’t until he found his way into a pack that he began to have any idea of how to be safe on a full moon,
it is still important however that thanks to a large amount of denial about what was going on asher managed to get through those years of being a teenager even though his condition was kept a secret from all of his friends.
he still dreamed of having a life for himself outside the walls of the town, of going off to college or moving to a big city. however as the time got closer it became more and more apparent that the town meant safety and even though he’s not always the best at taking orders the pack are the best form of family he’s ever had. so now at thirty years old he’s still here in the same town as all those bad memories just so he can cling to the good ones.
EXTRAS:
ash is frankly a hot mess who doesn’t know what he’s doing half of the time, but despite this he is still a dedicated member of the pack and community even if he’s never really got where he wanted.
he absolutely hates his scars and thus has them covered up at all times.
ash actually likes to consider himself a writer even though he’s never been published. the amount of notebooks he’s filled borders on ridiculous, but it’s a very private coping mechanism
i have to warn you guys he’s going to become everybody’s older brother, or at least fro the younger town residents. he misses his siblings everyday and i think he’s subconsciously trying to fill that void.
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
ONE NIGHT STANDS ; FIGHT ME EMOIJIS ; AND A WHOLE LOT OF SAD!!
tw: murder ; depression
TYLER HOECHLIN, MALE, HE/HIM, OMEGA WEREWOLF / deep in the pacific northwest lives EROS GELA ROMA. i heard they’ve been living there for twenty-five years and last saw them hanging around the howling moon, i think they might’ve been eating their emotions. at thirty-two years old, eros doesn’t look a day over thirty-two. everyone around here always associates them with leather jackets, hoeing it up, and midnight snacking. hope they enjoy their stay !
eros had a good childhood-- he couldn’t deny that. but his life choices now would say otherwise. but that happens when you witness your own parents being slaughter in front of you. luckily you hid int he closet and the killers couldn’t hear your sobs and heavy breathing over the screams of your loved ones.
and he didn’t tell his brothers that he had witnessed it. that he saw the face of their killers. he just wanted to shut that out. wanted to forget everything. his whole life had been turned upside down. ( fresh prince of bel air theme plays in the distance )
his first change was when he finally hit puberty at the age of 13. it’s a frightening experience for a young boy. first thing you know-- your hormones hit and your jacking off in your bathroom. then a full moon hits you and your in searing pain before you are shifting into this beast. that’s a nightmare.
but it was a nightmare that was forever reoccurring for the omega. and it made him so secluded from his brothers. they knew what was happening. but when you are already shut off from the world--- it’s a lonely thing.
he didn’t really get out of his shell until after high school-- when he met his first friend at the library, violaine. they instantly hit it off. they were best friends. and if she wasn’t stuck in one place-- eros would have wanted her as a room mate.
but as the lonely night hit him-- it was depression all over again. he didn’t like to be alone. it brought back the horrific memory that he kept quiet from. even his brothers. he went out and found that sex was an escape. and when that didn’t work--- food became his second best friend.
he just wished he could talk to his older brother. he wished one word wouldn’t upset apollo. he wished he wasn’t judged for being a loner. being outside his brother’s pack. he was scared. scared of other wolves. scared of being included.
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
MANNY MONTANA, CIS MALE, HE/HIM, INCUBUS / deep in the pacific northwest lives VALENTINO DEL SOL. i heard they’ve been living there for thirteen years and last saw them hanging around the howling moon, i think they might’ve been taking on their late night cravings. at eight hundred and thirty three years old, ‘tino doesn’t look a day over thirty. everyone around here always associates them with skin painted in ink, towers of money, and mysteries locked behind closed doors.. hope they enjoy their stay !
1164 CE. In what is today Central Mexico, a tribe belonging to the Toltec Empire is in distress. A woman of dark magic terrorizes the civilization, casting curses, enchanments and more on the people. But, none more did she terrorize than a young woman named Xochiquetzal. Her curse on this innocent girl was cruel, and unnecessary. She cursed her to give birth to a monster. She cursed her to give birth to Valentino.
Originally named Huitzilopochtli, it was clear that Valentino was inhuman from the start of his life. He had no sort of basic human emotions- he didn’t care for the people of his tribe, and there had been plenty of times when he’d hurt them— or worse. He did not have the appearance of an indigenous person. His features were a blend of different ethnic backgrounds, and to the Toltec people- who had yet to have any experience with those out of their continent- this was terrifying.
His first lover died immediately after their first time. And as times passed, the system continued. It was clear what he was, and his tribe didn’t want him. They exiled him from the community, and for the hundreds of years he lived alone. He watched the Spaniards invade and capture his people, he watched wars break out, and people die.
He would change his names constantly, taking up different identities of Mexican backgrounds. Eventually, around the late 60s, he took the identity of Valentino Del Sol. By then, he’d already been living in the U.S. Over the years, Valentino made a lot of money. He either fucked his way into it, or used his skills as a self-taught entrepreuner. He’s put his shares in several companies, and has cash coming from all directions.
He moved to Arcana Falls in 1984, and found himself liking the small town. It was quiet enough for him to keep most of his secrets to himself. He’s mostly a mystery to everyone. He’s seen every now and then, mostly at Howling Moon because he loves greasy food. People know him, and his name— he’s got a seemingly friendly persona, they know he’s rich as hell, they know he likes to fuck, but other than that. Nothing. Very few in the town know about him, and those who do are not too high in number.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
LANA CONDOR, CIS-WOMAN, SHE/HER, HUNTER / deep in the pacific northwest lives IVY MAI LE. i heard they’ve been living there for four years and last saw them hanging around the rough draft, i think they might’ve been pouring drinks while listening in on conversations. at twenty two years old, ivy doesn’t look a day over twenty two. everyone around here always associates them with leather bound books, hidden in the back of the shelf; scars beneath delicate flowers and patterns in ink-covered skin; and the final sharp inhale before one tells a deadly secret. hope they enjoy their stay ! ( cami, gmt, she/her, 19 )
TW: DEATH, BLOOD, SCARS, SELF-HARM (or sorts)
I.
a family of refugees, the le had a long established reputation back home as the brave protectors of mankind, nomads stopping at every village and small town to valiantly step into the darkness and return with a token of the evil ailing the populace. with very little collaboration with other hunting families, they kept extensive tracks of lore, written and verbal, passed down through generations - thus, the accounts they now possess are a mix of superstition, old wisdom and rare experiences. it is well known that if a hunter is looking for out-of-the-box ways to defeat a target, the le’s knowledge might be of use.
ivy is part of the first generation of her family to be born in the united states, their new hunting ground since the 1960s. for the most part, they’d stuck together, leaving only to marry into other families or to join prestigious groups. their status had carried over to their new country, and their skills only consolidated the fact that the le were a family one would wish to keep as close friends within the hunting community.
born on the 17th of december, 1976, in modesto, california - but soon the moving began. the le carried a philosophy of self-protection and search for better targets, one that involved moving at least once a year, hopefully with no tracks behind to be followed. staying for a few months, every family member who was able to work did, gathering funds for the next expeditions and better gear. to reach a le, one had to actively search for them.
this led to ivy having no formal education. under the official guise of homeschooling, she, her siblings and cousins learned the basics of mundane education: writing, reading, easy maths. everything else was done in a militaristic setting and specialized in the trade they’d pick up as soon as they were deemed ready. survival skills, botany, lore, interrogation, fighting, shooting. nurturing friendships outside of he family was a hard task, but ivy was up for it anyway (mostly during the final weeks of being in the same location, when the house felt too small and her cousins too annoying,and she sported a bleeding nose from fighting her siblings). the instinct to look to the outside world was always there, even if just as relief from the suffocation of her family. however, she’d eventually be on the move, and never allowed to send letters or telephone anyone afterwards.
ivy was the classical middle child. with two older brothers and two younger siblings, she was often found trying to sneak into the back of the trucks leaving for hunting missions, because if miles, only 6 years older, could accompany the grown ups, so should she. in other occasions, she played the role of the instructor, throwing knives with the youngest, assuming herself the leader of the family, the great wise one - of course, until there was blood and crying and she was grounded. other times, though, she was hidden behind doors, listening to conversations she wished to take part in, but never close enough to be allowed to. a constant feeling of being on the edge of proving her greatness, but never seen enough for that. one such occasion came at the time to flee to oregon.
her family has been focusing on werewolves for the past 15 years, ever since a particularly bad encounter left a few relatives dead ingruesome ways. they will hunt everything else, even if that means they must join forces with other groups for better results, but werewolves have become quite the specialization. eight years ago, down in southern california, the family began a war they did not intend to wage by angering a particularly big pack with what was considered brutal unjust killings. the le found themselves as the targets, in a mess most other hunters refused to touch out of their own preservation - instead, they help set up routes for the le to leave, far away from the pack. pride got in the way, but all that bravado wouldn’t make winning any easier - only when the eldest son, miles, only twenty years old, was violently murdered did the family pack up.
II.
miles was a promising hunter, nearly as skilled with a gun as his father - but then it was all gone. the family had to regroup, grieve and, above all, reestablish their image.
up until then, ivy had already begun going on missions (simply watching when she was ten, helping at twelve, full member of the team by fourteen) but it all changed after miles’ death. the narrative wasn’t that their children weren’t well protected, but rather that they were unprepared. when they handed her six year old cousin a knife and rope, she understood. the new goal was to make them not impressive soldiers but the best, as soon as possible. there was no space for slip-ups.
ivy’s mother has a reputation especially for interrogations. in order to grow their lore books or purely to get information on other targets, her mother came in with a bag full of flasks and tools - and young ivy had always shown interest for that. not exactly the violence of torture, although she quickly grew desensitized to it. the stories that came out of their targets’ mouths, however, were fascinating, small windows into the world of the supernatural. so she stayed, listened, asked questions sometimes, and slowly began performing the incentives as well. they tell her she has a future in that, a great interrogator. the thought makes her stomach restless: imagine all the knowledge she can amass. imagine all the things she’ll be able to ask when it’s just her interrogating, no one else in the room to supervise her work, much less her words, her excitement over the tales of her victims.
despite that, the le are not within the most ruthless of hunting families. they believe in a strict moral code of balancing plates - all supernatural creatures are inherently evil (if they are not, it simply means they are fighting their natural urges to be so, and thus their goodness is an unstable state) and so, hunters like them are meant to kill off threats to the neutrality of the world by getting rid of some evil. they won’t kill someone purely because they are a supernatural., but will mistrust them, and likely keep track of them for a few days to make sure they can’t find any current (or past) transgressions. however, taking those lives should bring consequences to the hunters themselves - this, of course, ignoring the fucked up mentality/indoctrination this leaves them in, and things like ptsd, but they certainly don’t care about it. in order to keep that delicate balance, for every life a le takes, they mark their own skin with a dash, letting it bleed, hurt, and at last scar. they are both used as a sign of pride, members showing off their deformed skin with glee, and as a moral tally, keeping hunters from going on mass killings that are not justified.
things have, however, grown much more brutal since miles’ death. the incentive to grow that tally is stronger than ever, and the justifications for missions are simpler and simpler.
III.
in oregon, they moved even more, until four years ago. arcane falls was alluring for its established community of supernaturals AND hunters, a dangerous game of cat and mouse right under their nose. ivy still lives with the rest of the family in a big house down a dead lane, the only other house in view being a decaying old one (that, of course, the entire family had already explored for safety and the hopes of finding something wicked in there). everyone took up little jobs, and ivy continues to expand her resume in bartending, now pouring drinks at the rough draft, where she keeps her ears open (even if a lot of the information she gathers turns into missions for her elders or teaching experiences for the younger ones)
arcane falls is a bit of a dream for ivy. she’s so close to all these different beings, even serving some in the bar. a chatty bartender type, some of what she hears is not intel for missions, but rather knowledge for her own gain. here she’s been able to keep her eyes open for a hidden pleasure of hers: magic.
books inside carved books, ivy has been keeping lots of information on the supernatural - nothing that’s of use in tracking them down and killing them, but rather in understanding them, their powers and skills, the beauty of the terrifying dark they inhabit. magic, especially, is a secret vice. she’s just purely in love with the concept of breaking the laws of everything that is real and truly loses all the cynicism in her when she sees it. but it’s a terrible sin no one shall know.
she still hasn’t achieved the greatness she knows she’s capable of. in fact, ivy knows she hasn’t even had a chance to prove that she’s half as good as she claims to be. she hasn’t brought home any major token, hasn’t conducted any great interrogations, everything feels like she’s just holding her breath right now, so close to everything but not there yet.
not having gotten her chance also leaves her on a particularly bellicose edge. it sees she’s a powderkeg always about to explode, and the smallest of thigns set off that anger she’s been building up for years - ready to anger, ready to start a fight, ready to self-destruct when outwardly destruction is not possible.
she’s begun covering up her scars with tattoos, much to the dismay of her family. she claims it’s to not cause a scene at work once others see her arms and connect it to the le reputation; after all, her shoulders and upper arms are getting pretty crowded. delicate flowers and weeds are intertwined with the scars, collapsing into geometrical patterns closer to her neck, and she plans on getting more. much more.
ivy is also a casual hunter?? sports hunting. forest survivalism. she enjoys pushing herself and self-training. the rush of being a predator, even if the moral consequences are harder to grasp.
this young lady loves playing with knives way too much. keeps a pocket hunting one with her at all times, of course, but truly enjoys swinging it around for fun, throwing, pretending to chop some fingers off just to giggle at the reactions around her. most things she does are in search of a certain rush like this.
character parallels: erik killmonger, kate bishop, stefan salvatore, rosa diaz, bobbi morse, derek hale,sabrina spellman, tish walker, penny adiyodi, jace wayland, billy kaplan, raven reyes, julia wicker, annabeth chase,meera reed, sam winchester, isaac lahey, idk more help
PINTEREST to come soon oops
hmu for plots and such pls !!
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
JESSICA CHASTAIN, FEMALE, SHE/HER, VAMPIRE / deep in the pacific northwest lives LYRA ELIZABETH BLACKWOOD. i heard they’ve been living there for two years and last saw them hanging around the electric dusk drive in, i think they might’ve been enjoying a movie. at one hundred and thirty four, lyra doesn’t look a day over thirty eight. everyone around here always associates them with a southern drawl, vintage skirts, old letters. hope they enjoy their stay ! ( belle, gmt, she/her, 19 ) *tw: death, alcoholism, assault
have you ever told yourself that you’re not going to join any new rps for a few months while you get settled into college only for a good friend to send you an awesome rp? because that’s totally what happened to me. anyway hello lovelies my name is belle, i’m nineteen and this is the intro for my wonderful vampire daughter.
INFLUENCES:
deadwood the tv show, the whole aesthetic of godless on netflix, esme cullen from twilight, lily potter from harry potter, beverly marsh from it.
STATS:
name: lyra elizabeth blackwood
age: 136
gender: cis!female
species: vampire
hometown: deadwood, north dakota.
personality: aloof, loving, morose, honest, protective, quiet
ORIGINS:
we begin our story in the 1860s it’s the ear of horses, stetsons, gunslingers and saloons. lyra grows up in a house with an overworked mother and an alcoholic father, not that really affected her too much too begin with. she was too busy adoring the horses down at the stable where her father worked and trying to focus on learning everything she could. she was really a bright child just not the most observant of her surroundings. her mother used to say that she lived in her own world, a fact that is still very true to this day.
as a teenager however her father’s problems became harder and harder too hide and it was not long until at fifteen she was at least attempting to plan her escape. there was only one problem. the only way she was going to become free from her father was if she fell into the control of another man.
so at sixteen lyra became engaged to a twenty four year old she didn’t love all in the hopes that she could move out of that small town, which of course they did. moving all the way too indiana by railroad.
the twenty years that followed were not totally unpleasant. lyra was trapped in a loveless marriage but did not have a hard life. her husband did not limit her freedom, did not take issue with her reading and she made good friends and roots in the community.
that night in 1903 was a completely random, lyra and her husband were on their way home when they were attacked by bandits wanting to take all that they had. lyra’s husband resisted, tried to fight off the attackers and was shot through the heart during a state of panic. then fearing what might happen too, the men tried to kill lyra too, but ran off before seeing that the job was finished.
lyra was left at the roadside, bleeding and barely clinging to life. despite everything there was really only one thought in her mind: she didn’t want to die.
that’s where lyra’s sire found her and really she must have been a pitiful sight. far from the woman her mother had raised her to be, but that didn’t matter. her life was saved just not in the way she wanted.
LIFE AS A VAMPIRE:
lyra certainly didn’t take to the change too easily. her first few years were ones of bloodlust and no self control. it’s unknown just how many people she killed.
following that came the years of isolation, despite everything she had done, lyra still cared and there is no force more powerful than self loathing. so she cute her self off from society for years, only feeding when she had to, her confinement feeling like some sort of self made purgatory.
eventually however lyra grew to have more control over her urges, began to feel a bit more like a person again after those years of being a monster. the result of which is a very odd individual. it would not be a surprise to think lyra was simply soft, but be careful she can be deadly when she wants to.
MISC:
she still has a bit of a southern accent and as a result of which she’s likely to call everyone a pet name.
lyra still has a tendency to feel like alone, and even though she may seem friendly with everyone she keeps most at arms length.
an old soul she tends to stay away from technology.
never had children which is a point of sensitivity, she’s a considerably young vampie in comparison to the others but that does not mean she won’t try and become the mom friend.
LINKS:
pinterest board (x) playlist (coming soon)
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
DARREN CRISS, CIS MALE, HE/HIM, WITCH / deep in the pacific northwest lives WYATT OWEN ROWE. i heard they’ve been living there for 20 years and last saw them hanging around the pavilion, i think they might’ve been playing his guitar. at seventy-eight years old, wyatt doesn’t look a day over twenty-nine. everyone around here always associates them with old acoustic guitar, sunrise over a sunflower field, and blowing on a dandelion. hope they enjoy their stay !
born and raised in new york city, new york
birthday is april 11th 1941
his mother was a witch and his father a human
he was born in the middle of ww2
his father left for war a few months after he was born
he unfortunately passed in the line of duty not long after
wyatt never knew his father, just the stories his mother told
his mother re-married a few years later
she married another witch
this lead to him getting a younger sister
he instantly grew protective over her
he tried to make sure she was always safe
he had an average childhood
he did decent in school and went to a good university
he studied hard to be a strong witch like his mother
he went traveling after he finished his magic training
he was gone for a long time
learned witch secrets all over the world
he tried to do good wherever he went
he was more of a soft-hearted man
he noticed he stopped appearing to age at some point
he moved to arcane falls when he heard his sister had moved there
he hadn’t seen her since he left
he was excited to be with her again
he grew to love this new town
he made a lot of friends over his time living here
he was also happy to be able to expand his magic again
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
hello ! shay here and this is my original vamp dru. she has the start of a pinterest board here (x) and has a page for her overall stats here (x). i am still working on a connections page for her and am wide open for any plotting suggestions. i’m so excited to bring her here and write with you all !!!
EMILIA CLARKE, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER, ORIGINAL VAMPIRE / deep in the pacific northwest lives DRUSCILLA ‘DRU’ FIDELE AGOSTI. i heard they’ve been living there for nineteen years and last saw them hanging around sacred heart cathedral, i think they might’ve been reminiscing on a family long buried. at two thousand one hundred and eighty one years old, druscilla doesn’t look a day over thirty. everyone around here always associates them with the dry rasp of bat wings on stone, red lips in a darkly lit room, and the drape of brown curls over brass bed posts. hope they enjoy their stay !
(TW: MURDER, RAPE, PROBABLE HISTORICAL INACCURACY)
Born in 181 BC, Druscilla Fidele Agosti was the oldest of four children born to Alaric and Isolde Agosti. Residing in Romania during the time of the Odyrisian Empire, stability was an unknown to their family. The Odyrisian Empire consisted of twenty-two kingdoms and over forty Thracian tribes and power was constantly shifting between various leaders and tribal elites. Power was fluid, easily won and lost as her father was to find out in 167 BC. He rose in ranks and became the royal adviser to Cotys IV. The king tried fervently to unite the now independent Canite and Oddrisae kingdoms in an attempt to bolster their borders against the growing power of Macedonia. The Macedonians, catching wind of this plot, sent out assassins to take out Alaric and Cotys IV. While Cotys IV and his family survived this attempt, Alaric Agosti and his family were not so fortunate. Druscilla awoke to find her family brutally murdered around her, her own body battered and torn by the assassin's knife. She survived, a fact she would credit to the power of pure spite.
The prospects for an orphaned girl at fourteen in Ancient Romania were dismal, to say the least. It was to her great fortune that Cotys IV felt indebted to her late father and pulled the young girl into his own family. Rank and power she would not inherit, but the privilege and opportunities allotted to her within his walls more than made up for that. Druscilla was married at the age of sixteen to Zayraxes of Gacian in 165 BC. Their union was brief, Zayraxes was killed in combat with the Roman Empire in 155 BC. During that invasion Druscilla was brutally raped by Roman soldiers.
Widowed, childless, and sullied by rape, the rage that had been building in her veins since the death of her family boiled over. Over the course of the next four years Drusciilla made her way west towards the Great Roman Empire. It was there, penniless , sick and thirsty for blood, in 151 BC, that Drusiclla met the witch who would alter the course of her life forever. Sensing the fury within the girl's tiny frame, the witch offered her a deal. Kill a mark for her and Druscilla would live to watch the Empire who wronged her crumble. She was quick to accept the deal, sneaking into the Roman general's home in the dead of night. Her hunger to avenge her family made for a swift and brutal death for the general, committing a murder not unlike the one that originally set her on this path.
Over the following days Druscilla laid in agony as the blood thirst took hold and her skin burned and withered under the light of day. Her eyes, once green, went black with hunger. Within the first couple of months of her transition Druscilla killed tens of men in her attempts to satiate the need for blood. This number would only grow higher as the witch's promise came true and she slowly watched as the Roman Empire fell around her.
With her newfound immortality came a freedom the likes of which she had never experienced. Druscilla wandered the growing European world over the next couple of centuries taking lovers of all genders who aged in the blink of an eye and slowly becoming a learned woman in the secrecy of the night. She avoided staying in any place long enough for the citizens to catch on to the fact that she never aged and was careful not to accumulate too much rank in society. Some highlights of these years include disguising herself as a doctor during the Black Plague of England (those bird masks proved useful for something), meeting William Shakespeare in 1586, cloth-making during the years of Reformation, coming to America with the Puritans in 1648, preying on Confederate soldiers during the Civil War and marching for the right to vote in 1913.
After taking some time to cool off from way too much fun during the Summer of Love in Haight-Ashbury, Drusiclla moved to Arcane Falls in 1980. The run down town held no interest to her until she began hearing whispers of supernatural beings being drawn there. When she's not drinking the blood of innocents, Dru can be found lurking in Sacred Heart Cathedral thinking about a family long buried.
6 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
