Post by Lenore Machiben on Feb 27, 2008 11:10:17 GMT -5
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;; fundamentals
full name;; lenore whisper machiben
nickname;; lenny, nora
birthday;; february 14
age;; died at sixteen, now about seventy
sexual orientation;; lesbian
job;; witch/fortune teller
Race;; vampire
;; appearance
general;;
the.body
Lenore is a very tall girl, standing about 5'8". As she was growing up she was very lanky and looked about to break, often being made fun of because of this. Her figure is still basically long and thin, with B-cup breasts and not much hip. Almost everything about her is stick-like, but the way a swan is stick-like. She's only around a hundred and fifteen pounds, thanks to her crazy fast metabolism.
the.fashion.sense
Lenore can be most often seen in black, save for special occasions or when she's feeling like kicking somebody's ass. Her regular outfit is black trousers, a tightly laced black corset, and on colder days she'll be in a cape. She never really wears much color, but you can be sure that every outfit she owns will be paired with chunky spiked belts and Doc Martins.
the.hair
Lenore's hair is what she considers her best trait, and as such she keeps it in pristine condition. It's long and, although naturally black, it's now blonde, cut into a fringe at the side of her face and falls just past her shoulders. It's easy to style and for a special occasion she'll tie it up or maybe even curl it.
the.face
Beautiful is the only way to fully describe Lenore's face. It's not conventional beauty though; there's a wild, untamable tinge to that beauty that some people perceive as nastiness. Sure, she's often frowning rather than smiling, but with her past she's allowed. Her nose is thin and straight, curling up a little at the tip. In comparison with her black wardrobe her skin is extremely pale almost to the point of deathliness.
the.eyes
Those beautiful blue eyes are one of Lenore's strangest traits. There is always some dark secret hidden behind those eyes, and it's not uncommon to see false hardness lurking in their depths. That secret that those eyes hide can never be revealed, or at least, she hopes it won't be. Their strangeness is emphasized by the dark rings of eyeliner that she carefully applies every morning.
favorite;;
-eyeliner
-boots
-her nose
hate;;
-her thin-ness
-her knees
-her fingers
heritage;; roman-romanian
ethnicity;; european
;; personality
general;;
Lenore isn't the easiest person to befriend. Not shy as such, she just resists human contact as much as physically possible. Many people just don't seem to understand her, who she is, and especially the crap she faced growing up. Behind her confident smile, volcanic temper and devil-may-care baditude lies a hurting soul that not many care to know.
Break through the wall and you'll find Lenore, not necessarily a 'good' person, but purely herself. You'll find the crazy party-animal who loves the rush of being so drunk it's hard to stay conscious, the girl who likes to jump on tables for no apparent reason whatsoever and belt out random thoughts. Dig a little deeper and maybe you can crack into the quiet, thoughtful part of her, the part that writes all the lovely macabre poetry and turns to the tarot for answers when all seems lost.
To those people who aren't her friends, she'll come off as thingyy, rude, and overall a bit.chy tease. People often mistake her confidence for these things. However, in Lenore's world confidence is the only thing that can keep a person going. She only does it because she knows she's beautiful, inside and out. It takes a very special person to know and accept that beauty.
hobbies;;
-horseriding
-archery
-combat
dislikes;;
-sunlight
-restrictive dress
-being unsure of herself
-being anywhere without her tarot
likes;;
-girls
-eyeliner
-music
-alcohol
-rain
-nighttime
;; origins
general;;
Not much is known about Lenore's parents. Her mother was alone when she gave birth, in the middle of a sodden, run-down old orphanage in Romania. Her mother, Victoria, murmured 'Lenore' after she saw the baby and promptly died afterward, from cold and disease. So thus, Lenore never knew her mother. She only knew the scraps that the orphanage owners could dig up - she was twenty-three, and she had the strange gift of prophecy. She'd been a 'sorceress' in a nearby village and the owners suspected she'd been poisoned prior to labour.
Lenore grew up alone. She hated the world and blamed her nonexistent father for all her troubles. She had no friends - she was the 'witch's daughter' - and never found friends at the orphanage. The girl instead busied herself with her thoughts - by the time Lenore was seven, she'd come to know herself completely, inside and out. She found that she was beginning to have strange dreams. Premonitions, the owners called them. She quickly found she, too, possessed the gift Victoria supposedly had. With that knowledge, she realized she was different to all the children at the orphanage. She could escape.
The next four years was spent by herself, creating intricate plans to flee the dreaded place she'd called home for her whole life. Maps, food, money - she took extra care with everything, dragging out every little detail that she could to make sure nothing could go wrong. In the middle of the night, the twelve-year-old Lenore stole away, smuggling twenty pounds of food in tiny rucksack. She never looked back, not once.
She spent another four years on the road, gradually heading south. Unwittingly, on her sixteenth birthday, she passed into dangerous vampire territory - the territory of the Machibens. Contessa Lydia Machiben was a cousin of Vladislaus Dragulia, and was older than him by about a hundred years. She hadn't changed much, she was still insanely beautiful. She hypnotized the young Lenore, brought her further and further toward her - and bit her. Not with the intention of killing, but with the intention of making her one of them. A vampire.
Lenore spent the next fifty years with the Machibens, learning the art of vampirism. The Contessa noticed Lenore's strange talent, honed to perfection over the years on the run, and put it to the test. Lenore became the Contessa's personal fortune teller, predicting the events of each day. They always came to pass, and Lydia now realized that this was no ordinary parlor trick. Lenore had a true gift.
The young vampire became much respected in the Machiben's eyes, treated almost like the Contessa herself wherever she went. Lenore was served the choicest blood and escorted wherever she went. Lydia's interest in Lenore became affection, and the two became close friends. For Lenore this disconcertingly evolved into insane attraction. She managed to ignore it, valuing the Contessa's trust more.
Everything changed one morning, during their ritual tarot-reading. Lenore saw only horrible things - battles, betrayal, death. Lydia panicked. She looked out the window, and advancing on the city was a gigantic human army. Lenore kept calm, simply gathering her cards, grabbing the Contessa by the waist, and pulling her into the cellar of the castle and through the escape that had been built aeons ago, for an event like this. Behind the two were a select few vampires who had been able to escape in time, about fifty. The other three thousand inhabitants lay dead on the surface.
Once they escaped the Contessa and Lenore led the tired vampires to a small valley, where they stopped to camp for the night. The Machibens never left, but Lenore did. That night she saw a horrible event. The human army was torturing her, telling her that, had she only left the Machibens, Lydia would still be alive. Waking from her nightmare in tears, she scrabbled out of the tent, tarot in hand, and ran from the encampment in the same manner as she had sixty years before - but this time she was crying.
After a month of going north, Lenore found a small village. She'd fed for that entire time off the blood of animals and she was now becoming used to the taste. She had no need for human blood any more. She figured the only chance of survival was to live among these villagers, masquerading as their kind. She entered the village of Transylvania, bought a tiny house, and started a fortune-telling business. She's been there now for a year.
parents;; Victoria (mother), unknown father
siblings;; Unknown, possibly, though they would probably be dead
other;; Contessa Lydia Machiben (sire)
Add Lydia Machiben to the canon list
;; roleplaying
sample;;[/font][/quote][/blockquote][/size]
[from old transylvania]Why wouldn't the bleeding stop? Liss could feel it trickling disgustingly down her legs underneath her woolen pants but did nothing to suppress it, not being bothered to lean down and try to. It wouldn't work, she knew, and she decided to kick her puppet master for being such a bad RPer and listening to three days grace when she should be typing a reply. "I...I think I'm okay," Alissa murmured, flushing a little. Of course she was okay, dammit. How could she be any other way? Jackson was standing in front of her. That qualified for better than okay, thank you very much.
Instinctively Alissa's eyes crossed, trying to see his finger. Which was on her lips. Stupid girl. Suddenly she felt like being childish and, in a deft maneuver, got the tip of his finger in her mouth and she bit it softly for about half a second before reaching up a hand and pulling his finger from her mouth. Oh, she's a flirtatious one. But when you're in love with a guy like Jackson, you've gotta be flirty to keep all those mofos from getting him :] "Ma's staying in the tavern tonight, she and Carl had a fight. And he won't hear, he's in the lab. Ever heard how loud it is in there?" Liss gave him a short smile, noticing how upset he was. He must've been hungry. Hellooo, he's a guy!
"Well…I think it's beautiful." Yeah, she was telling the truth. Liss never lied, lying isn't cool. Well, unless you're lying to your parents, then it's okay. She hoped it was, anyway. She'd been lying to them for the past sixteen-odd years. "Of course I still want to teach you. I promised."
You still love me? What a stupid question. Of course she loved him. Nothing was going to change that. Now she finally understood why women stayed with their abusive boyfriends. Was she like them? Was she like her mother? She coc.ked her head slightly, a smile lighting up her eyes. "Yeah…I still love you. Is…is that okay?" What was with this shyness all of a sudden? She was never shy. "Shy" wasn't part of her dictionary. Was she sick? No, she felt fine. Maybe it was just him.
Watching him fiddling with his hair reminded Alissa of when they first met. The first thing she noticed about him was his hair. She liked that style on guys, and it looked extra good on him. Reaching up a hand she brushed his locks out of his eyes with two thin fingers. Those eyes were the second thing she'd noticed about him. They were what made her fall in love. "No…drink, by all means. I don't want to stop you. Just try not to go off your face like you did last time." Last time…gah, why couldn't she just forget it ever happened? It was so annoying, like a mosquito bite. You scratch it once, you gotta scratch it again.
Dude, he practiced for a rejection? What kind of person practices for rejection? What could that mean? Did he want to be rejected? No, stupid question, who wants to be rejected. A curious boy, he was. Maybe that's why he drove her so crazy. "Well, that's too bad, isn't it? All that practice is gonna go to waste now." Over her dead body was she gonna reject Jackson. Maybe she would if he tried to bite her, but he would never do that. Would he?
What had possessed her that night at the tavern? Alcohol, durr, her mind taunted her, but she mentally slapped it away. It was something more than booze. She dismissed it as hurt but…was it truly fear? Nowadays she had to admit to herself she was scared of Jackson. Any girl in their right mind would be. Was it the alcohol's effects on him or just…him? What was with all these questions? Alissa looked just a little closer at him, the way he was slapping his forehead. No, it wasn't him. Who'd be scared of him now?
He'd rather stake himself? Wow, Jackson was serious. In that moment any and all anger she'd previously felt toward him evaporated, and all that was left was adoration and…something else she couldn't quite touch upon. Why did he do those things to her? He made her all tingly and, well, a bit sick. Like your stomach is about to drop out your arse sick. A good kind of sick. She placed a hand on his shoulder lightly, twirling her finger in the folds of his shirt, and smiled at him with her eyes. The rest of her face showed no emotion. "Don't stake yourself Jackson. You keep me entertained. Plus…I'd be sad." Liss made her puppy-dog face for emphasis. Who could resist that face??
Alissa felt a little uncomfortable standing there in front of Jackson. She was in her pyjamas for God's sake! Thankfully her face was no longer swollen and tear stained, yet her running makeup told the whole story. She looked so scruffy and unkempt, it was really unlike her to look like this. Normally she looked a whole lot weirder. "You don't need to make anything up to me. You said you were sorry, that's good enough for me." That was true. Alissa couldn't think of anything she wanted from him. Well there was the usual stuff, but she couldn't exactly tell him, now, could she?
She looked down a little, scuffing her toes in the dirt. Liss didn't like having dirty feet. It was a gross feeling. That's when she really took notice of the bandanna on Jackson's wrist. I mean, she'd seen it, but now she actually noticed it being there...does that make sense? Before Jackson could move his arm Liss grabbed at it, turning it over until she found the knot. He'd kill her for this, but she had to know. She quickly undid the knot and snatched away the bandanna. Just as she'd thought - he'd cut himself. Balling up the material Liss pressed it into his hand, then ran a finger over his arm. She had scars - thirty-two of them, at the last count. Liss used to hurt herself every time her dad hurt her. "Jackson...you don't need to do that." She wished she could say something beautiful and comforting...but that was the best she had.
;; behind the character
name;; ailynn
years roleplaying;; 2
location;; hong kong
how You found us;; old transylvania
