Realistic or Modern Dark Clubs CS

[taliaangeni]

Feel free to use coding.

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Species:
Role: within club?
Appearance: either a description here or RL FC at the beginning or end of cs.
Personality: list or para form.
Background:

 

[Cosmo]

Name
Elijah 'Eli' Hayes

Age
29
"Twenty-Nine and still in a Boy's Only Clubhouse. What have I done with my life?"

Gender
Male
"Now that's just mean. Is it because I shave? Well, I am sorry I don't go all feral with the long hair, beard and lack of personal hygiene."

Sexuality
Heterosexual
"Its a one-sided love."

Species
Werewolf
"The personification of puppy power... No? Okay, so I need to come up with something new for my dating profile then."

Role
Treasurer
"It helps when you're the only one that can count past five."

Personality
"I'm not saying I am amazing... because everyone keeps telling me I'm not."

Sarcastic || Dutiful || Bitter || Simple || Genuine || Stubborn

Eli is one sarcastic guy. He loves to poke fun at people, situations, preconceptions.. whatever he can that will rile people up. Finding and poking buttons is his favorite past time, he loves nothing more then to throw out a witty one-liner or zinger that leaves them red in the face and resorting to childish insults... partly because everything has become a joke to Eli. His childhood, his family, what he is, what they are, this 'gang', the motorcycles they ride on to get attention like sixteen year old girls... All of it is wonderfully hilarious if one squints their eyes hard enough. He isn't much of a fighter, however, so it isn't uncommon for the night to end with his ass getting kicked, but he doesn't let them have the sanctification of shutting him up and will joke even as he is choking on his blood because if he can't hurt them physically, he will attack them mentally. This is probably why he isn't the most popular guy in the pack, no one ever invites him over for a beer for a reason. He is just the treasurer, the glorified accountant, he keeps the investments managed, ensures there is money for liquor and keeps the taxman away... But he does a damn good job at it. Despite how much he mocks and teases, Eli is a devoted man. He throws himself in to whatever he does even if he complains about it to anyone who will listen, and even those who won't. It is the same thing that kept him in town and unable to abandon his mother, or at least, call their bluff in doing so. It is why he came back to a funeral of a man he hated, because he was still his brother and he should be there.. so he was. Eli may insult someone, mock them and everything they care for, but he keeps his word.

His last girlfriend left him after calling him a sad, bitter little man, and she was right. The is a lot of rage and anger inside Eli, chained and locked away, but it still leaks out. It is the source of his sarcasm, that desire to hurt other people in small little ways, by poking their buttons and laughing at them. The irony of how that makes him like his brother and father is not lost upon him and, if anything, only fuels it more. When something good happens, he is suspicious and doesn't trust it, when something bad happens, it merely meets his expectations. Eli is always quick to point and laugh at his own nature because if someone can't laugh at themselves then they are truly lost... although he is sure many other people would prefer it if he just kept his mouth shut all the time. While the other members of the pack may consider him 'fancy' for going to college and thinking he is too good for them, at heart, Eli is a simple guy. He likes simple things likes watching cartoons, sleeping in late and eating way too much greasy food. He never wanted to be rich, as a kid, he dreamed of a small house in the middle of nowhere, just him and a family of his own with no care in the world.. a dream he hasn't had in a long time but still lurks in furthest corners of his heart. The nicest thing anyone can really say about Eli is he is genuine. He is what he is. There is no guile or trickery in him, what they see is what they get. Eli will never pretend to be anything but what he is, in fact, that is a source of a lot of jokes. In a gang full of alpha bravado, he is 'real'. Even if he is a stubborn ass who will not change his mind on anything and will happily get his ass kicked before backing down or admitting he was wrong. For too long did he cower in the shadows of his dad, he won't, ever, do it again.

Background
"My brother was an asshole. He always was. I see people here crying and thinking back on all the 'good times'. What good times? The time he knocked up Claire in high school then pressured her to get rid of 'the problem'? I remember him laughing on the phone to his friends the next day, all one great joke to Ken. The time he put a guy in the hospital for 'bumping into his bike'? He was an asshole. Just like our fucking dad when he'd come home from his little band of fucking noise making attention whores called bikers for a good ol' round of smacking mom around. Just like dad, he loved being in the pack, he loved being what he was because it gave him power and he loved power. It was probably the only thing he ever did love. The idea of being an 'alpha', out of everything that went through my brother's empty head, why that stuck, I'll never fucking know. What was alpha about our drunkard of a dad? His ability to mount bitches and blow away our rent while rubbing it in our mom's face? Blame the fang that killed him all you want, say he was a good man who only shit gold and pissed craft beer, he was a piece of shit who probably started the fight. He isn't in a better place, if there is a hell, he is in it with dear ol' pops.... Enjoy the food."

Eli comes from a long line of wolves. His father was a wolf, his grandfather, his great grandfather and so on. His bloodline was a part of the gang when it first founded when they left another pack for them for a 'better future'. Things did not quite work out as his ancestors had envisioned. Any prestige to their name was something Eli never saw. His father was a drunkard. More then happy to sit on his laurels and drink himself into a coma at the bar. His mother was a small woman who had long been brow-beaten into submission by his father 'put into her place by a proper alpha'. Eli's younger brother, Ken, had a mean streak a mile long. Despite being a year younger then Eli, he was bigger and loved nothing more then showing it in displays of dominance. Ken was the pride of their father and, in turn, Ken basked in being the favored son. Of having his transgressions looked over, and even, praised. Perhaps his brother would have turned out different if they had better parents, but a moot point. As he was often made the outcast of the family, he started to fully commit to his 'role'. He pointed out the flaws in their lives, how silly the gang on their motorcycles really were... and he pushed his family away as hard as they pushed him. When he was seventeen his father died, there wasn't much even being a werewolf could do when there is a head on collision between a harley and a semi-truck. At his funeral, a closed casket, Eli could barely stand to hear it as everyone talked about how great a man he was. How the world was a lesser place without him. As if he was some great, kind, generous man which was the furthest from the truth as it could possible be. Whenever he tried to say anything, his mother would always place a soft hand on his shoulder and tell him it wasn't right to speak ill of the dead, as if it mattered anymore.

When Eli graduated high school, he defied expectations and went straight to uni accumulating a fair share of student debt to do so. He wanted to be far away from his 'home'. From his brother and the gang of mutts that also called it home. He called his mother once every couple of months, graduated with a degree in business, which he never ended up using, instead choosing to take odd jobs as he moved from state to state, wandering and exploring the nation trying to outrun the memories of his home and of what he was, at least, he tried until his past caught up to him three years ago. He got a call from his mother, which surprised him as he had never given her his new number, and told his brother was dead. Killed by a vampire. He hadn't wanted to go back, had told his mother he wasn't going to the funeral, but a few weeks later, he was back home wearing a rented suit and asked to give a speech about how great his brother was and how much he'd miss him. He gave a speech alright, just not the one he was supposed to give. Eli had planned on ducking out the second the funeral ended but was caught and approached by the 'Big Wolf'. Offered a job as the treasurer, it seemed the gang's finances weren't exactly in the best place and Eli was the closest thing they had that was a member of the 'pack'. He told them to go shove it. But Eli was put in his place quickly when he was told his mother wasn't a part of the gang and never would be. With his brother and father gone, they no longer had any reason to take care of her, to help her with her bills, to watch over her. They could have been bluffing. 'Pack loyalty' ran deep, or at least, it was supposed to, but he wasn't prepared to call that bluff. What other options did he have? He didn't have much money, what he had saved had gone to his brother's funeral, he had no career or career prospective as he had instead drifted from town to town... He couldn't leave his mom alone, not again. His mom... he had hated her at times, how weak she was, how she just rolled over and took the abuse, but she was his mom and she was the source of the few good memories he had of his childhood and at the end of the day, Eli liked to think he was a halfway decent wolf monster... so he agreed to join.​

 

[madame moiselle]

xxxx

• XXXBASICINFORMATIONHEREINTAB01
• PERSONALINFORMATIONHEREINTAB02
• XHISTORYINFORMATIONHEREINTAB03
• XXRANDOMINFORMATIONHEREINTAB04

• 

  my lips are the gun
  
  my smiles are the trigger
  
  my kisses are the bullets
  
  label me a killer...

  @sugarvine

  viktoria von luca wip

  devilish

  /*strength*/

  cunning

  /*defense*/

  ruthless

  /*magic*/

  sensual

  /*resistance*/

  cold

  /*agility*/

  mischievous

  /*dexterity*/

  truthteller

  /*luck*/

  THE MOON IS MY SUN,
  
  THE NIGHT IS MY DAY,
  
  BLOOD IS MY LIFE,
  
  AND YOU ARE MY PREY

  @sugarvine

  
• 

  basics

  age
  300 years old
  she is often mistaken for a young 24 year old thanks to her youthful genes despite her actually looking around 30 to 32.
  
  gender
  female
  
  sexuality
  bisexual
  
  species
  vampire

  there's no tiara; I simply bedazzled my horns.

  @sugarvine

  role

  viktoria plays the 'secretary' for the vampires; she is the hostess of their occasional meetings held at her nightclub, Juice.

  @sugarvine

  appearance

  viktoria would actually look quite innocent if it weren't for her dark sense of style, consisting of gothic chic tastes with dashes of casualty and sexiness. her makeup style is rather bold and equally as gothic; her colours are all neutral and dark. she stands at a slender 5'8 and holds a weight of 150lbs. her skin is a pale comparison compared to her cold dark eyes, her silky hair the colour of night. she has several skull and rose tattoos trickling down her right arm, accompanied with a nasty nicotine addiction.
• 

  personality

  she has that look of innocence that tells you she is full of the best kind of bad...

  sweet as sugar, hard as ice. hurt me once, i'll kill you twice.

  @sugarvine

  
  
  
  there are two types of people in the world.
  
  first, the sheep. gullible, naive, holding onto childish fantasies and belief on how they think the world thinks; that everyone and everything has that inherent streak of goodness. they are often blind followers, blindly following vague, ill-defined morals and beliefs made by their betters, easily swayed by any of the latest trends and fads so it fits their sense of loose morality and worldview.
  
  and then, there's the wolves.
  these people are often the ones that become the leaders, the spirited messengers of their causes, aggressive and blunt, often holding pessimistic views of reality and the world. they are usually the ones who make the rules, who create the wars, who dictate how the world ticks and toils.
  
  two sides of two extremes.
  
  at least, that's what viktoria would tell you.
  
  to be frank, nothing is as black and white as that. and viktoria, a 300-year-old vampire, is more knowledgeable of that than anyone. viktoria is at this point, you could say just there. long past the point of being filled with the youthful morbid curiousity and the energetic vibrancy needed to spend endless years 'discovering' the world, fucking around and just being reckless, as all the younglings do, she is also not quite at the point of becoming some ancient undead sputtering away pessimistically at the various wrongs and rights and this's, and thats' of the world.
  
  so basically, you could say she's in the middle.
  
  viktoria, after living for quite for some time, has developed a sort of immunity to all the unimportant qualms and little tragedies that has plagued humanity for thousands of years.
  what qualms or tragedies you might ask?
  why, love, of course!
  
  viktoria, you could say, is pragmatic, in a more devilish sort of way. she's also has an air of elegance, duly to her noble blood, with an old-fashioned flair. not to mention, her sense of sarcasm can very often cross into the boundaries of absolute bitchiness, accompanied by a nice side of cold-heartedness.
  considering her dark, strict and fiercely restrictive past and upbringing, which, viktoria had fortunately long ago managed to escape, viktoria isn't afraid to cross the line, any line really, if such a thing even exists for her. she is mischievous; she has a sort of obsession of wanting to see what makes people tick, what makes them turn, what makes them break to the point of no return. it's why relationships with her never last; simply because she sees any lover of hers as a sort of plaything, a pet, a passing fancy of sorts. feelings, to viktoria, could be described as an absolute blah and love, as well as anything associated, is severely overrated. to her, given enough time, any 'love story' becomes the same old tragedies recycled over and over in the great cycle of time.
  
  it doesn't stop her from having fun though - viktoria is ridiculously sensual; she definitely doesn't mind playing around with girls and guys alike, manipulating minds, feelings and bodies like you've never seen it before. she is not only beautiful, but also extremely clever and intelligent as well. she is always at least three steps ahead.
  you could describe viktoria as a sort of dark fairy; mischievous, mysterious, ruthless, and deadly.
  
  of course, viktoria isn't all bad.
  
  some of her more redeemable qualities include her sense of humour; dry, sassy, with a touch of sarcasm. her brutal honesty is a trademark of hers, and given her rebellious, mischievous nature, she can actually be quite the life of the party and amazing to hang out with. those who have stuck around long enough to tolerate her, her 'friends', if you may, viktoria is somewhat protective of.
  and if you insult her or any of her friends, she becomes deadlier than the Black Plague.
  
  in conclusion, viktoria is just a centuries-old girl in a woman's body acting out, silently crying out for the attention she never had.
• 

  

  @sugarvine

  backstory

  change is as inevitable and constant as time; there is no escape, only endurance.
  
  
  part one.
  
  
  viktoria was born on may 8th, 1722, in the infamous capitol of germany -
  berlin.
  in a way, that alone was fate's twisted way of foreshadowing her equally warped path in life, and that without great sacrifice, there will be no stopping it. of course, she did not stay long; fate had already planned out her role as the youngest in a roaming, rich and noble family of ancient vampires that had roots practically anywhere and everywhere in medieval europe.
  during her formative years, viktoria spent sheltered in various grand, archaic mansions, chateaus, and castles, under the strict rule of governesses and head maids, her every childlike move watched, regulated and severely punished if ever stepped out of line.
  
  viktoria had two older sisters; helena and benedict, who were both respectively four and seven years older than she (in vampiric terms of course). helena, much like viktoria, had grown in the restrictive and stern ways of governesses and tutors, which resulted in a understandably large desire for freedom. however, when it came to benedict, things differed. benedict was the golden child, the eldest, whose first-born privileges were constantly shoved in her younger sisters' faces at every opportunity. she was raised in the watchful care of their parents, carefully groomed and cultivated to fit the extremely high expectations that was required of an heir to an expansive empire of estates, riches, and rule all across antediluvian europe.
  as one might imagine, the relationship between youngest, middle and eldest differed drastically. despite a considerable gap in age, viktoria and helena connected instantly. despite their lives changing on the daily, moving from one mansion to another, from one country and continent to another, never staying in for more than a decade or two, the relationship between youngest and middle stayed constant; they were connected not merely by blood, but by soul as well; and for the longest time, it had stayed that way.
  
  when it came to benedict however, things couldn't be any more of the opposite.
  
  there was an unspoken hatred between viktoria and her eldest sister. at first, it had started as simple bitterness, since benedict was getting the kind of attention from their parents viktoria had rarely gotten; then, it grew to jealousy, and from that jealousy came hatred and disdain. because of this, it wasn't uncommon for viktoria to scheme and conspire against her eldest sister with mean-spirited pranks and stunts. benedict caught wind of this and didn't hesitate to have their parents cut down on these attempts to sabotage her reputation and standing, often resulting in strict and severe punishment to teach viktoria a lesson.
  viktoria often sought the consolation and comfort of her second eldest sister helena, who, just like her standing as the center child, was in the middle of this bitter rivalry between youngest and eldest. it was unfortunate for her really; helena often found herself on the fence, unable to decide which side she wanted to lean to, her feelings conflicted and confused. in the long run, helena mostly just found herself playing the uncertain messenger, the third wheel to this resentful sister rivalry. and the older they all grew, the worse it became.

  
  

  

  @sugarvine

  in the end, promises are nothing but empty words.
  
  
  part two.
  
  
  decades flew by. viktoria's life had always been hectic; between juggling constant shuffling around and keeping the life of a ridiculously rich socialite amongst the nobility of europe. in the eyes of the public as well as her parents, she was the less beautiful, the less graceful and less elegant one of the sisters, always treated as if she didn't matter much at all. for decades, she struggled hard to be what she was not; to try and fit into the mold every von luca descendant before her had set the standards for. she attended every ball, every great noble event - she restricted and tried to squash that rebellious little flame within that had prevailed in her childhood years, but even with her best efforts, it seemed she could never be up to par with her sisters. her eldest sister never ceased to torment and mock viktoria every chance she had; mocking her inability to fit in, her status as the 'freak' sister of the trio, and it angered viktoria, but of course, she couldn't do much. so, she kept these poisonous, toxic emotions to herself, burying them deep inside her soul.
  
  there came a glorious day though; a day viktoria had long awaited and desired with all her heart.
  it was the day where benedict was to be married off; out of her parents' lives, out of helena's life and most importantly, out of viktoria's life, and into the life prepared for her by her husband's side.
  the marriage was an important one; not only did it unite two mammoth-sized vampiric empires together into a single one, but it was also an important political and military move against the forces of the world; including the harrowing forces of the werewolves.
  at that time, from the late seventeenth to late eighteenth centuries, a fearsome, elusive and intense war was being fought between both species - starting with the French Revolution in the late 17th century; peasants rising up against their betters and claiming power for their own. in this case, a good number of these peasants were also werewolf packs and tribes rising up against their vampiric betters, and the overall revolution shook the very foundations of the world for decades to come, triggering what became to be known to both vampire and werewolf communities worldwide as the Fang and Claw Wars, lasting from the French Revolution to the beginning of the Industrial Revolution.
  
  throughout these periods, viktoria saw the world go backwards hundreds of times over - from the moment the French Revolution began, their grip on the reigns of power were threatened and sometimes almost broken. but nothing was as backwards and horrific as the moment when helena had shared with viktoria her deepest, darkest, secret.
  
  helena was in love with a werewolf.
  
  there were no questions, no whens, no wheres, no whys.
  there was only the single resounding question of how. the mere idea of love between the two species revolted viktoria. all her teenage mind knew was that they were the enemy; hundreds of her brethren had been killed by those monsters for centuries and therefore it was almost an instinct to hate them naturally. but this was helena. her closest friend, her soul sister. so what could she do?
  
  she made a promise, of course.
  
  viktoria swore on her vampiric blood that she would not tell a soul, not even in death. she wouldn't dare inflict that kind of pain and heartbreak on her sister - from what she could tell, helena really did love this werewolf, and he her. it was horribly backwards and twisted, but then again, the world was no different at the moment either.
  viktoria, after processing this, cherished the fact that her sister had trusted her with a secret of such magnitude; it beat all other secrets, all other trifles that had bonded them over the years. more importantly, it was the kind of secret that viktoria thought put her ridiculously ahead of benedict - in the sense that she had finally managed to spite her sister. viktoria had really thought this sealed her sisterhood with helena forever in a way that even benedict could not break.
  
  except that she was wrong.
  
  the one thing stronger than sisterly love was romantic love, the kind of romantic true love one would think only existed in fairy tales. but when it came to helena and her lover, it was exactly that - and as the years went by, helena became less and less present in viktoria's life. she became so preoccupied with keeping this secret forbidden love affair with her lover that it gave her no time for viktoria. and viktoria felt this absence very hard. it dumbfounded her, it frustrated her, and it angered her beyond her beliefs. one sister had already taken the attention and love of her parents away from her; a bloody werewolf wasn't about to take this one's attention and love away from her as well.
  
  but she had made a promise. a vow, an oath bound by sisterly trust and love. was she really that resentful to break it?
  no.
  
  at least, not yet. the shove that had pushed her to that extreme came in the form of Christmas in the winter of 1799, where the the House of Von Luca (and very close friends) had all gathered to celebrate the return of benedict and her husband in their recent wordly, business and military triumphs in the Claw and Fang Wars, the New World and the Napoleonic Wars.
  it was then and there, in the midst of a family and more importantly, sisterly reunion, that viktoria discovered that helena had also confided in benedict her secret, much earlier than she had with viktoria, back when benedict was preparing for married life.
  
  it broke viktoria's heart.
  
  the seal to their sisterhood was broken; the accumulating bitterness and darkness over the years inside of viktoria was finally over the edge, just boiling over. bitterness for her eldest sister, bitterness for her parents, bitterness for the werewolf that had unjustly stolen the heart of the only person who had truly loved viktoria for who she was; it was all about to rear it's ugly face for all to see.
  
  that night in her castle tower, when everybody had already long ago gone to bed, viktoria let the poisonous, toxic feelings take possession of her body. she trashed her room, in a blind, heartbroken rage, tears going down her pale face. it was a full moon that night, and in the distance, viktoria could hear the vampiric bloodcurling howls of werewolves, which only fueled her anger more. she had quite the episode, and it lasted for more than an hour or two until something, or rather someone, had stepped in and interrupted.
  
  io polaris.

  
  

  

  @sugarvine

  people don't mature with age; they mature with the damage done.
  
  
  part three.
  
  
  "what's wrong, young grasshopper?"
  
  those were the first words io polaris spoke, breathless with surprise at the scene and young vampiress before her, but nevertheless serene and composed.
  there many things wrong, thought viktoria bitterly at that moment. so many things, it would be impossible to tell. either way, it was no surprise as to why io was there - she was viktoria's regular check-in, sent by her parents to check on their youngest, as they do to all their daughters, every night. of course, viktoria was so engrossed in emotion that she had completely forgotten that her parents would eventually send her trusted nursemaid up.
  
  at that moment, viktoria was so exhausted, so fatigued by anything and everything that she nearly let her tongue get the best of her, and confess to io polaris everything, including the pain, that had plagued her for so many years.
  and she did.
  she told this nursemaid everything, from beginning to end, her story coming in breathless intervals, with the occasional sobbing bursts. at the time, she didn't have a clue as to why; maybe because io polaris, at that moment, reminded her so much of helena that it physically hurt, or maybe because she was just there, at the right place, and at the right time. it didn't matter - the cat was out of the bag.
  
  at the end of it all, viktoria was on the ground, her hands on her face, her sobs reduced to quiet weeping. io polaris approached her slowly and crouched to her level, hesitating for moment before wrapping her arms around the defeated girl in a warm, maternal embrace.
  
  "everything heals," she murmured. "your body and wounds, your mind..." she trailed off, pulling back for a moment to gaze at viktoria almost knowingly. "your heart," she continues. "bad times never last; your happiness will come back. but only if you let it."
  
  there was a moment of silence.
  
  the moments grew longer as viktoria stood up and shuffled away from io's embrace, not saying a word. she turned around and walked to her bed, a signal for io polaris to leave. a few seconds later, viktoria heard the sound of tender footsteps leaving her chambers, and the careful creaking of her mahogany door being shut.
  
  despite what many may think, viktoria's silence was not a denial of io polaris' words. there was merely no need for her to answer. because she already knew the answer - and io polaris was right. bad times don't last forever, and her happiness was her own. not controlled by her parents, not by benedict, not by society in general. she was going to get it, no matter what the cost.
  
  viktoria spent the next few years planning and plotting for the perfect revenge. it didn't take long for her to figure out helena's tricks and tips to keep her secret under wraps; after all, helena trusted her. of course, that trust would most likely be broken after what viktoria would do, but it was for her own good; werewolves are a cancer to the earth, and it's time they paid for the deaths of their fellow vampires.
  
  and do to that, the first step was to deal with a longtime torment of hers: benedict.
  she couldn't kill her outright of course, but if not directly, then indirectly was the solution. viktoria used the situation around her to her advantage; it took a few years of planning, but everything would fall into place. viktoria learned all of benedict's travels and routine, and with that knowledge in mind, she anonymously tipped off a fearsome werewolf pack of where and when exactly benedict would so they could strike. it didn't matter that it was an amazing move done by the werewolves; by killing benedict, they had destabilized the vampire forces greatly, giving them the advantage - it mattered that they got the job done.
  and they did.
  on the winter of 1865, benedict von luca died, and viktoria made sure it was pinned on none other than helena's precious werewolf's pack, the same one she had anonymously hired to kill benedict.
  
  it was a short but extremely fierce and intense period of violence. viktoria's parents were absolutely furious and heartbroken at the news that werewolves had managed to kill their favorite, and that resulted in the brutal huntdown and killing of every werewolf belonging to that pack, including helena's lover.
  
  mission complete. killed two birds with one stone.
  
  
  
  after that, viktoria's life went further downhill, into a warped, twisted series of traveling, biting, killing, smoking, drinking, and fucking everywhere and everything there was to travel, bite, kill, smoke, drink, and fuck. it was a haze, and viktoria loved every moment of it. she was finally experiencing freedom on her own bloody terms, free from the shackles of her childhood. as the years went by and the world progressed in technology, medicine, and politics, viktoria only regressed, spiritually, at least, her sense of mortality continued to dissipate. she met with many, and connected with few; one of the few was a youngling named natalia vale, who also knew how it felt to feel abandoned and unloved, who was her own type of enigma and it took no time before viktoria found herself getting close with natalia. there was a flicker of a bond much like the one she had many years ago with helena. though it was nowhere near the magnitude, this fact alone comforted viktoria, and the two have been thick as thieves ever since.
  
  viktoria grew older, and older, and finally, slowed down her pace. she moved to Macon County, San Diego with natalia for a more calm setting, with the whole werewolf population there sure to bring occasional bursts of entertainment.
  
  nymphadora. deer

  
  

01

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[apolla]

sugarvine

sugarvine

sugarvine

• BASICXXXXXINFORMATIONXXXX
• PERSONALITYPARTGDFI!XXXXX
• SHIORIHISTORYPLSHELPXXXXX
• RELATIONSHIPSAREFORLXXXXX

• 

  xName: Evangeline Zabielski

  xAge: 24

  xGender: Female

  xSexuality: Straight

  xSpecies: Werewolf

  xRole: Woman

  xAppearance: Phoebe Tonkin
• 

  Evangeline is far from a submissive girl. She can be, perhaps to the right wolf, but for the most part she's loud, strong-willed, and independent. She's used to getting what she wants, though not from being spoiled, but from working for it. If she wants something, she's not afraid to go after it. She speaks her mind and acts before she thinks, which has gotten her into trouble with the Alpha (and her peers) more than once. If you piss her off, expect to get punched. She's not afraid of any man (except maybe the Alpha). After all, she doesn't want to be shunned from the only family she's ever known.
  
  Evie loves music, and she loves dancing. She can't sing, unfortunately, but she can't help but move when she hears a good beat. Rarely will you find her sitting still, or doing an activity that doesn't require movement. She hates sitting through any type of meeting or anything where she's forced to sit still. That's one of the few drawbacks to wanting to be in charge of a pack one day, but she just can't help but find it boring and useless. She's had quite a few boyfriends over the years-- none of the relationships lasted, because they were either too much of a pushover or too pushy to her. No way was she a have kids and settle down type.
  
  She needs to be free.
  
  
• 

  Evangeline has been around the pack her whole life. Thankfully not condemned to a life of being the Alpha's daughter, Evie managed to keep most of the higher ups eyes off of herself. Well, somewhat. Always dreaming of a bigger and brighter world out there, she couldn't help her boisterous and loud personality. As a young pup, she managed to get into as much trouble-- if not more-- than the rambunctious boy pups. Evie never backed down from a challenge, even if it got her yelled at by her beta father. Her mother would beg her to spend more time with the female pups, but Evie wasn't interested in playing dress up and dollies. No, she wanted to be out there with the boys.
  
  When she turned eight, her father was slaughtered by a lone vampire. It might not have been so terrible, had Evie not been the one who found him. She'd wanted to go out on the hunt, but of course, was told that she was too young. So she sat there, cross-eyed and seething, as the boys prepared to leave with the older wolves.
  
  And then she snuck out behind them.
  
  Her scream upon finding her father sucked dry of blood alerted the others to the vampires presence. The vampire jumped her from behind; she still has the scar on her neck from his fangs. Fully intent on tearing out her throat, he sank is fangs into her neck, just as one of her brother wolves pounced from the trees. Truthfully, she almost didn't survive the attack, but while most of the wolves attacked the vampire, another few rushed her back to the healer.
  
  Despite this, Evie didn't let fear win. She was determined to become the best, to make her father's death perhaps mean something. She threw herself into fighting and training, and became one of the better hunter's of the pack. She still never backs down from a challenge, and one day hopes to run a pack of her own. Maybe.
  
  
• 

  

  
  

TAB1

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sugarvine

Spoiler: mobile friendly

Personality:
Evangeline is far from a submissive girl. She can be, perhaps to the right wolf, but for the most part she's loud, strong-willed, and independent. She's used to getting what she wants, though not from being spoiled, but from working for it. If she wants something, she's not afraid to go after it. She speaks her mind and acts before she thinks, which has gotten her into trouble with the Alpha (and her peers) more than once. If you piss her off, expect to get punched. She's not afraid of any man (except maybe the Alpha). After all, she doesn't want to be shunned from the only family she's ever known.

Evie loves music, and she loves dancing. She can't sing, unfortunately, but she can't help but move when she hears a good beat. Rarely will you find her sitting still, or doing an activity that doesn't require movement. She hates sitting through any type of meeting or anything where she's forced to sit still. That's one of the few drawbacks to wanting to be in charge of a pack one day, but she just can't help but find it boring and useless. She's had quite a few boyfriends over the years-- none of the relationships lasted, because they were either too much of a pushover or too pushy to her. No way was she a have kids and settle down type.

She needs to be free.

Bio:
Evangeline has been around the pack her whole life. Thankfully not condemned to a life of being the Alpha's daughter, Evie managed to keep most of the higher ups eyes off of herself. Well, somewhat. Always dreaming of a bigger and brighter world out there, she couldn't help her boisterous and loud personality. As a young pup, she managed to get into as much trouble-- if not more-- than the rambunctious boy pups. Evie never backed down from a challenge, even if it got her yelled at by her beta father. Her mother would beg her to spend more time with the female pups, but Evie wasn't interested in playing dress up and dollies. No, she wanted to be out there with the boys.

When she turned eight, her father was slaughtered by a lone vampire. It might not have been so terrible, had Evie not been the one who found him. She'd wanted to go out on the hunt, but of course, was told that she was too young. So she sat there, cross-eyed and seething, as the boys prepared to leave with the older wolves.

And then she snuck out behind them.

Her scream upon finding her father sucked dry of blood alerted the others to the vampires presence. The vampire jumped her from behind; she still has the scar on her neck from his fangs. Fully intent on tearing out her throat, he sank is fangs into her neck, just as one of her brother wolves pounced from the trees. Truthfully, she almost didn't survive the attack, but while most of the wolves attacked the vampire, another few rushed her back to the healer.

Despite this, Evie didn't let fear win. She was determined to become the best, to make her father's death perhaps mean something. She threw herself into fighting and training, and became one of the better hunter's of the pack. She still never backs down from a challenge, and one day hopes to run a pack of her own. Maybe.

 

[madame moiselle]

xxxx

• XXXBASICINFORMATIONHEREINTAB01
• PERSONALINFORMATIONHEREINTAB02
• XHISTORYINFORMATIONHEREINTAB03
• XXRANDOMINFORMATIONHEREINTAB04

• 

  you can't defeat the demons you enjoy playing with...
  
  

  @sugarvine

  dimitri kovacs wip

  lone wolf

  /*strength*/

  rebel

  /*defense*/

  carefree

  /*magic*/

  troublemaker

  /*resistance*/

  bold

  /*agility*/

  mischievous

  /*dexterity*/

  reckless

  /*luck*/

  we stopped looking
  
  for the monsters under our beds,
  
  once we realized they were inside us.
  
  - the joker

  @sugarvine

  
• 

  basics

  
  
  

  age
  152 years
  looks about 24 - 26
  
  gender
  male
  
  sexuality
  hetero
  
  species
  born an illegitimate werewolf by his co-founder father and rogue mother

  hated for my blood, loved for my looks...

  ]@sugarvine

  role

  
  

  member : he never really earned his place - the only reason why he has some semblance of a position is because of his father's standing as co-founder.

  @sugarvine

  appearance

  
  

  dimitri stands at about 6'3, accompanied by a healthy weight of 205 lbs. as per his profession as a professional boxer, he is broad-shouldered and well-muscled, with a plethora of artfully made tattoos decorating every ounce of skin on his body. he takes almost perfectly from his father - his hair is a mix between blonde and brown, with pale, piercing greenish blue eyes.
• 

  personality

  
  damaged people are dangerous, precisely because they can make hell feel like home.

  it's hard to resist a bad boy with a good heart...

  @sugarvine

  
  
  
  first impressions have never been dimitri's forte.
  
  intimidating, reckless, brash, cocky, cold; a playboy with no soul, born a bastard to a father who was never there and a mother who could barely afford to feed herself.
  
  of course, where's the surprise there? for dimitri, it's simple; if the world was going to dictate what he was to anyone and everyone, there was no point in trying to be anything else.
  
  of course, all stereotypes come from some form of truth; dimitri can be intimidating. he can be reckless, and he can brash; a stone-cold mask hiding the true man behind the curtains. some could call him what he seems to be on the surface; a selfish, self-made millionaire rake and others could call him what his career has made him up to be: an absolute monster in and outside the boxing ring.
  
  either way, every one of those qualities only reach as deeply as the tattoos that decorate his body.
  to be truthful, dimitri is a damaged soul.
  
  underneath all that skin-deep bravado and toughness, dimitri is searching for meaning, just like any man before has and any man after him ever will. he is a deep-feeling, and deep-thinking person, burdened by a tragic childhood past and troubled by a future he's unsure he even wants. humility doesn't come easily to dimitri; he's prideful and intense and he never backs down from a fight, fighting to the end if necessary. he's a survivor; from the troubled home of his childhood, to the dangerous streets of New York City, to the boxing ring that's made him his millions.
  
  despite this, dimitri, at his core, is good-natured. he has great empathy for those who are living or have lived similar life situations as he once did, and when it comes to his closest friends, he is deathly loyal. he's very passionate in what he believes in and in what he does. he's no stranger to hard work and takes pride in what he accomplishes. he can be surprisingly gentle and thoughtful, adorably aloof and almost lovable when given the chance.
  
  dimitri is what you also call a sort of loner; he doesn't trust easily and has walls up at every front. he's the strong, silent type, and can pierce people with such intense looks you'd almost think he was looking straight into their souls.
  dimitri has never been a pack wolf; his wolfish nature is a lone one, with an insatiable desire to seek adventure and independence, to crave that rush of adrenaline, wherever it may lead him. this, unfortunately, is where, the 'superficial fuck boy' part comes along. and to be frank, there was a point in time where all he had in mind was drink, drive, and drugs, and dimitri can be quite the player when he wants to be. relationships never last with him and you could say playing around with girls and their feelings almost comes naturally to him.
  but really, girls absolutely love the bad boy, don't they?
  
  in conclusion, dimitri is one helluva piece of work. complicated, messy, damaged and most of all, not perfect; but honestly, who is?
  
• 

  

  @sugarvine

  backstory

  the saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from our enemies.
  
  part one.
  
  
  from day one, dimitri had always been a fighter.
  
  he came into the world in 1868, November 12th, in St. Petersburg, Russia, on a very cold, wintry night, crying up a vicious fit that marked the days that would follow would be anything but peaceful.
  and they weren't.
  
  in the first few decades of his life, dimitri spent in the small isolated village outside of St. Petersburg. life there was bitter and it was cold; the locals regarded his mother with hatred and an outcast, condemning her to being a demonic animal of the forest, her offspring the curse of the devil. as a result, he grew up already an outcast, away from the rest.
  only months after his birth, his mother had fallen ill, a terrible pneumonia that had the locals saying she would not survive for long at all. and indeed, it was a powerful illness that weakened the woman, and despite her werewolf abilities, it nearly drove her to the point of death.
  however, unexpectedly, dimitri's mother survived the ordeal, refusing to leave her son without a mother in his life.
  the same, however, could not be said about his father.
  
  during his years living in the small village, his father only came a few times every decade, his visitations brief and limited. finally, at the physical age of about five years old, dimitri and his mother managed to leave the wretched place with his father to the United States of America, with promises of a new life and a new future.
  
  unfortunately, those promises were no better than the life they left behind.
  
  Macon County, San Diego, California. The territory of what was back then, the Hellhounds, of whom his father was co-founder, the fearsome werewolf pack that had made Macon Country their home.
  
  The Hellhounds also had a fearsome code of honor; strict standards of behaviour and rules that happened to regard any outsiders as the enemy. it was clear from the start that dimitri and his mother would not be accepted. they were no more outcasts than before, in Russia. in fact, the longer they stayed, the more in danger they became.
  dimitri's mother wouldn't take the bullshit - she fiercely negotiated for the acceptance of her and her child, and in the end, it came to a single decision.
  
  give the child up in order to be accepted as the lowest position in the pack.
  
  the Omega.
  
  for dimitri's mother, the decision wasn't a hard one; a life outcast with her child was a better one than living at the pawish feet of her lover's pack.
  the real decision was up to dimitri's father. and that's where it got complicated.
  
  you see, dimitri's father's whole existence revolved around the pack. more so, since he was one of the very first to found it alongside his closest brethren. for the longest time, his pride and joy was the pack, his position. his first and foremost priority was the pack; it's safety and security was his first concern.
  
  but all of that changed the moment he met with his rogue lover.
  
  all of a sudden, there was something in his life that mattered more than his position, more than the pack itself; and from that love, unexpectedly, came dimitri. his mother had no problem choosing between the sides, but the saddest thing was that she assumed that when it came to the pack and her, the decision would be no problem for her lover as well.
  
  but she was wrong.
  
  dimitri's father, unable to stand the thought of being outcast and driven away from the very thing he had had a hand in creating, chose the pack. as a result, he did nothing to stop the pack from viciously driving dimitri and his mother away. despite her very best attempts at fighting back, she was obviously beaten, and was cast out. and since then, dimitri's mother swore to never tell her son his true heritage as a werewolf until the time was right.
  
  
  

  

  @sugarvine

  we try and tame our demons, only to realize they can't be tamed.
  
  part two.
  
  
  banishment didn't stop dimitri's mother from establishing that new life she had been hoping the moment she had gotten to America.
  
  that new life began in the New Year of 1902, in the bustling city of Los Angeles, who, at the time had a population of no more than a hundred thousand. dimitri's mother found work at a local hotel and there it began, their lives as lone wolves away from the pack.
  
  it was hard, at first. dimitri's mother had to work extremely hard to get to end's meet, and dimitri was often left long hours alone at a very young age. dimitri's mother took no chances and schooled him on her own, restricted who he met and where he went. and as the world wars came tumbling in, changing their lives as well as the world, dimitri watched as his mother worked harder than ever before to support them, volunteering and surviving in both of the world wars as dimitri was still too young to be able to enlist in the army. the wars passed, and by the time the 50's rolled around, dimitri was well into his teenage years.
  
  for decades they had been on their own, but thankfully, the period of being alone and cautious was gone the moment they found the small community of Native Americans living in the same area.
  
  The Native Americans were descendants of the natives who had previously occupied the area and everything nearby before the colonists took over, and were nearly reduced to nothing, becoming social outcasts of society. they gladly let dimitri and his mother in, and it seemed they had found family they never had with dimitri's father and his pack. as it was custom to new members, dimitri had his first tribal tattoo tattooed on him, the beginning of a lifelong obsession that would lead to the masterpiece he is today.
  
  for the next few decades, they lived alongside this community. and despite their overall acceptance, there were still a few pricks and thorns; as dimitri grew older, he was picked on endlessly by others who counted him as an outsider, a freak who did not seem to age, fatherless, an outcast.
  dimitri tried endlessly to try and fit in with the others ever since he had been a small child; he tried to follow every custom, every tradition, but it was no use. he was an outcast.
  so instead of going with the flow, he began to learn to fight against it.
  
  dimitri quit trying to be something he was not .a nasty temper began to form in the very depths of his character; a side effect, one could say, of his fighting spirit, as he began to pick fights, to rebel, to ignore the customs and traditions he tried so long to conform to. he acted out just for the sake of it; he joined a prominent Los Angeles gang at the ripe age of 14, where he proceeded to get into illegal activities like vandalizing, stealing money and cars, pick up nasty habits like drinking and smoking.
  as the illegal activity grew, so did the collection of tattoos dimitri had on his body.
  
  It was idiotic teenage hogwash that dimitri mistook for as a useful distraction and outlet from all the things that were wrong in his life. his mother, who had watched by the sidelines at what was becoming of her boy, wasn't going to buy into the bullshit and let her son become the very instrument of his own destruction. but despite attempt after attempt, she couldn't bring him under control; she was every bit of a mother and had done so much for dimitri, but the one thing she could not be was a father, a father that dimitri desperately needed.
  
  having no father figure in his life, dimitri began to search for one. in the form of street fighter idols.
  
  the 70's rolled around, and at that point, Los Angeles had become a metropolis, a shining beacon of cinema and the center of celebrities. but of course, every metropolis had it's dark sides.
  specifically, the slums.
  
  street fights were common in the slums of Los Angeles; in fact, it had become a sort of underground business, almost as legitimate as the drug trade itself. bets were made, fighters were trained, and there even forms of shady championships.
  
  it's where dimitri found the role model he never had; and every chance he got, he went to these fights and watched in complete fascination and adoration. the biggest and best street fighters became his idols, and he dreamed of being part of it, and with that in mind, it wasn't long until he found himself accidentally being pushed into the fight circle, egged on by the circling crowd and forced to face these idol giants himself.
  
  the first flying punch came in fast; and it knocked him straight to the ground. it wasn't fair in all honesty; a fourteen-year old boy vs a twenty-five-year old seasoned fighter twice his size, but dimitri refused to give up. it was a brutal brawl - dimitri just had no chance. he was being beaten nearly to death---
  
  and then it happened.
  
  it just happened in an instant. his grunts of pain changed into fearsome growls, his nails into claws, his entire body morphing into the hunched form of a lycanthrope. the tide of the fight turned drastically - soon, it was his opponent that was on the ground, being torn apart, he crowd, petrified, fleeing by the dozens. it went on like this for a few, bloodcurling moments before the wolfish rage in dimitri died down, and his humanity took over.
  his opponent lay in a pool of blood, dying, sirens echoing in the distance. dimitri, coming to his senses, left the scene instantly, horrified at what he'd done.
  
  
  

  

  @sugarvine

  you ask people about love and they tell you about heartbreak.
  
  part three.
  
  
  the man survived, thankfully.
  
  dimitri, however, did not.
  
  the dimitri that night was gone, replaced by someone scarred, someone who was afraid of what he was and what he could be. a monster had awakened inside him, a monster he wasn't prepared to acknowledge. that night, his mother revealed to him his true identity, a werewolf, and a vicious one at that.
  
  deep down, dimitri knew he had known. it was something, an instinct, a second identity that had always been there, just never fully. and now that it was, dimitri was afraid.
  
  his mother did not want him like this; she wanted him to accept his newfound identity, wanted him embrace it. only then would he be able to control it. but as it was in the past, it seemed dimitri's mother's influence did not reach dimitri fully. he became depressed, and since he had no outlet, even angrier than before.
  it wasn't until a certain someone visited dimitri's mother one night that things began to change.
  
  the night was a cold, wintry one, when an elderly, weathered man knocked on their door. he introduced himself as frankie dunn, and told his mother that he had been there the night dimitri had turned and that he too, was a werewolf.
  
  two hours later, the man left. he left dimitri and his mother an offer to take dimitri under his wing, to train him not only to control his anger issues but to train him as a professional boxer.
  
  and so it began; the start of his boxing career.
  
  
  dimitri trained with frankie hard, pushing himself to the very limits of his werewolf abilities. frankie had coached many others before him, but many had failed to get to the very top of boxing championships.
  that is, until dimitri came along, of course.
  he was starting to gain what he had been lacking for so long - discipline, control, patience, persistence and skill. frankie was a strict, stern coach, but he became the kind of father dimitri never had. boxing became dimitri's passion; it satisfied his craving for action, for adrenaline, and before long, dimitri was ready to face what so many had failed before him.
  
  
  the moment, he hit the ring, he was an instant sensation - he could beat his opponents in less than a few minutes; his speed, strength, and agility were unrivaled. the media called him the Hercules of boxing, the real-life Superman that could knockout his opponents in a single punch. his career had blown up, and it wasn't long before he was boxing for every city in California, then Arizona, then Washington, and the list kept growing. in less than five years, he was earning millions.
  
  of course, the novelty was in danger of wearing off - people didn't pay thousands in tickets just to see a three-minute match knockout. so, for the sake of the crowd, dimitri had to downplay it, let his opponents think they're in control, when in reality, they weren't. he had to let some of them win of course to keep the show fresh and fun. dimitri, having known the harshness of the streets, made sure to donate a good sum of his portion to charities all around the world as well.
  
  the first few years of stardom were ridiculously startling to dimitri - all the attention, the pressure, all those eyes on him as he faced his opponent in the boxing ring; but soon, dimitri learned to adapt. he craved the thick, tensed silence moments before all out war, that rush of adrenaline coming in bursts as he went after his opponent, the satisfaction of winning, his arm raised in victory as the crowd cheered him on. this was it, he had made it.
  
  but all things has it's downsides.
  
  stardom wasn't all the glitz and glamour as the media makes it out to be. even it has it's dark side. this came in the form of drinks, drive, and drugs. after making his millions, dimitri wasn't shy to spend it on lavish luxuries, losing himself in the trap of materialism as all stars do. he not only craved the adrenaline in the boxing ring, but outside of it as well. he spent many nights out drinking himself away at expensive nightclubs, girls draped all around him, becoming the epitome of a world-class socialite.
  
  it was his life for years. the media painted him as the ultimate playboy, a young, self-made millionaire rake, leaving a trail of of broken hearts wherever he went. it was a cruel picture, but by all means, an accurate one. dimitri never just had 'one' girl; there were many, until a certain someone came along.
  
  
  not to sound cliche, but this certain someone had been different. she wasn't like the beauty-obsessive, fake socialite city girls he was so used to; she had a sort of humble yet incredibly independent, small-town personality, quick-witted and not afraid to say what was on her mind, unlike the girls he had spent his time around, sugarcoating their every word.
  she was beautiful, in every sense of the word, with a charm that enchanted him and before he knew it, he was falling madly in love.
  
  
  it was a weird, new experience for dimitri. it was almost like uncharted territory for him; this wasn't just a basic form of lust that leads to a one-night stand - this was actual, real, love. and they spent every available moment together.
  
  they shared their worlds; dimitri showed her his world, the world of endless partying, city-night cruising, late-night bar talks, of constant excitement and adventure around every corner, while she told him hers; a sheltered, protective wolf pack life far from the bustling life of the city, one that often lacked the adventurous sense that a vivacious city like L.A had.
  it was a bond like no other; and every time she had to leave in order to not raise suspicion on her end of the world, dimitri would count the days when she'd return so they could spend every moment together. it was nearly picture perfect.
  
  nearly.
  
  sadly, all good things come to an end. it began the moment dimitri told his mother about his new love; and despite the fact that his mother never approved of his lewd behaviour with women, dimitri was given a nasty surprise when his mother nearly exploded on him with anger, especially when he told her that she had come from Macon County, San Diego. it was clear that his mother despised his being with this girl, even going so far as to saying she hated this girl.
  
  things escalated with his girlfriend when his mother decided to finally tell him the real reason behind all this anger; the real history behind what he really was and who his father was and where he really from.
  all this, this dreadful blast from the past, put dimitri in a very dangerous place. his questions of identity crisis came flooding back, his deep sense of shame of never having a father, his hatred for him for leaving dimitri and his mother like that, those nights spent endlessly wondering where his father was, and if even loved him....
  
  only to find out that his father chose his position and pack over his own lover and son.
  the same pack his girlfriend was from.
  
  it was beginning to get bad. to cope, dimitri began to train harder and harder, focusing all his time in punching his anger out, leaving his relationship with his girlfriend to slowly deteriorate.
  there was what became to be a divide between the two; an unspeakable divide, one forged by centuries-old tension and self-doubt and questions of if they were even good for each other. the divide became bigger and bigger, until, dimtiri realized, she had stopped coming entirely.
  
  and that was that. his first real love gone, the love he had shared so many secrets with, the love who knew him better than anyone.
  gone back to the pack his mother held so much hatred for because her love had done the exact same thing centuries ago.
  
  
  for the next few years, dimitri resumed his old habits again. drinking, smoking, slipping back into the dimitri the media and the public were familiar with: self-made millionaire playboy boxer; a reckless rebel with a love for sinful pleasures. it was different now; the only person who had ever truly known him wasn't there anymore - who was going to fill that void?
  
  the answer was as obvious as the question was, and dimitri knew it, deep down. no matter how many girls he went through, none would ever be able to fill that void.
  
  Little did dimitri know that as he was busy resuming his old habits, his mother had died very suddenly. reports and come back to him, detailing that apparently she had been on a sort of 'bucket list' trip to the last place dimitri would've expected her to go to.
  
  Macon County, San Diego.
  
  they found her just outside of the county, laying on the side of an abandoned road, bitten savagely by an unidentifiable animal of sorts (a vampire). what they had recovered from her body was a letter written to her son, telling him that she was sorry for how she had reacted to his relationship to his now ex girlfriend - it was time to move on, she had written, and that was in the form of returning back to Macon County, to make amends and find the will in herself to finally forgive what had transgressed there centuries ago.
  
  dimitri was devastated. no - he was worse than devastated, he fell into depression. as a result, he fell out of the spotlight, and retreated back into his mansion, and stayed there for months on end, until someone went in knocking on his front door late at night.
  
  dimitri opened the door. it was his old coach, frankie dunn, with a sad smile on his face as he stepped in. he didn't stay for long; all he did was give his pupil a short hug and slipped him an envelope.
  "Read it," he had told dimitri, "there's something at the end that the reports had missed."
  dimitri did as he was told, and quickly scanned through to the end. right there, the final few sentences wrote:
  
  i've spent so many years digging a deep, deep hole for myself, torturing myself over and over for what happened so many centuries ago; and i've finally realized that the best medicine to despair is acceptance; accept reality and move on. that's what i'm doing and i hope, my son, that someday you'll find it in your heart to do the same.
  
  there was a pause.
  "Well?" quesitoned frankie. dimitri took a breath in.
  "I...don't know," he mumbled, shoving the letter back to his coach. his eyes darkened. "and I don't want to know." he let frankie step out into the night and was about to close the door before his coach stopped him.
  "Think about it, dimitri," he urged him. "You're down in the pits worse than you've ever been before; and your mother is right - the best medicine is going back there to help you accept reality and move on."
  
  two years later, dimitri made the decision to move to Macon County, San Diego for a little self-discovery trip back to his roots, with nothing but his motorbike and a duffel bag.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

01

02

03

04

 

[apolla]

Dexter "D" Graves​

Age: 236
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Species: Vampire

Role: Enforcer

Appearance: Christopher Mason

Personality:
Dexter is all over the place. He can be flirty one minute, cold the next. Really, once you think you've figured him out-- he changes. He likes it that way. He likes to keep people on their toes, and he hates the thought of someone thinking they know him, because then they can use that against him. He is only loyal to his family, the ones that gave him a second chance at life. If you can call being a vampire any sort of life. He uses others to his advantage, and has no qualms about doing so. He's got a soft spot for people who life hasn't been kind to, though he refuses to admit it.

Background:
Something about Dexter's human life haunts him, but should you notice the look in his eyes and ask him about it, he would never admit to it. It's more of a feeling that he has, but he can't remember much of anything from before he was turned. Unfortunately, that is a process he remembers all too well. Call it cliche, but he met a woman-- the most beautiful he ever remembered seeing. He only knows she was beautiful because she was there when he awoke-- hungry, thirsty, with a craving like no other.

He was a murderer, she told him. A cold blooded killer with a heart of stone. And once she admitted what she'd done to him-- he killed her. Forced to figure out this vampire life practically alone, he lived his life as she'd wanted him to: as a killer. He feasted on blood and didn't care who he killed. But living that type of life comes with a price, and he almost paid it with his own life more than once.

When he found his current 'family', he accidentally almost outed the entire gang to humans. Once again, he found himself facing death, but one of the older vampires took pity on him. Why, he never knew, and he'd never asked why he was given a second chance. He just accepted it, and became the enforcer he is today.

codedbycrucialstar​

 

[Stardust Galaxy]

BASICS

Name: Juliette Gallagher
Nicknames: Jules
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Species Werewolf
Role Innocent

APPEARANCE

Height: 5'7"
Weight: 121 lbs
Eye Color:Blue
Hair Color:Brunette

PERSONA

Likes: Watching the stars, books, the rain
Dislikes: Cold weather, being alone, the rivalry between vampires and werewolves
Strengths: Romantic, Loyal, Charming
Weaknesses: Naive, Clumsy, Emotional

Juliette is a calm and charming girl, she likes to get along with everyone and make everyone being happy, she thinks that everyone is good not caring where they came from or who they are. She would prefer the werewolves to get along with the vampires rather than having them fight with each other so often.
She thinks there's a way for the rivalry to come to an end even if everyone thinks that's just a dumb idea.
Julietter is not really interest in the gang, but she is there because is the closest she has to have a family she would rather prefer just living a peaceful life and find love rather than hurting someone without a reason.

BIOGRAPHY

All the memories that Juliette have always had involved the gang somehow, she can't remember a time where they weren't part of her life and they became the family that she never had, besides of her older brother, who was the one that took care of her since she didn't have record of who her parents were or if she even have got the chance to meet them at some point.
While her brother was involved with the gang Juliette just wanted to have a normal life, make friends, have fun, find love instead of risking her life riding a motorcycle. So sometimes she felt like an outcast for being the way she was and thought that no one really liked her except for her brother.
But it wasn't until she was 15 that she knew what really meant to be alone when she found out that her brother was murdered, she couldn't believe that the person that was supposed to protect her was gone, she felt insecure and lost not knowing what to do, she wanted to leave and forget the place that brought so many memories to her, but at the same time she was scared of being on her own.
So she decided to stay with the gang and somehow found the way to toughen up so she could survive with them, but still she was against the idea of violence and see people get hurt, so she kept those thougths to herself. Even if she wanted to seem like a strong girl she was still the same girl that just wanted everyone to be happy and for her to have a nice and simple life.

codedbycrucialstar l all boxes have hidden scroll​

 

[taliaangeni]

Name: Tyson Scott
Age: 102, looks 29
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Species: Werewolf
Role: Vice President
Personality:
Likes: Bitches, Comic Books, Math and mechanics.
Dislikes: Vampires, rats, deep down his father.
Strengths: Will do what needs done, leadership, persistence.
Weaknesses: Too demanding of others, Gruff, obsessive.
Background: Tyson has never known anything other than club life. His parents were born wolves and dad loved to throw it in the face of bitten wolves. Dad's motto for the children is "born in the club, die in the club". Even his sister has a part in it. Mom isn't as soft or caring as many of the other bitches. Not only did Tyson get it from his dad but also his mom. As a kid, about seven or eight, his father would have him run small errands. Never having a clue, until he was older, that he was running drugs. His father's reasoning: a cop would never suspect a kid.

At eighteen, even Tyson had to prove himself to the club and to his pack. There was no special treatment. It took years for him to get the Vice-President patch. While his father is very much part of the club, he gives Tyson a lot of leeway. Though there are times father and son butt heads and it's not pleasant to be around.

Tyson is a ladies man, having slept with many of the sweetbutts. He can count the number of serious relationships he's had on one hand. It's two. He always ends up cheating on the female and they leave him. Other than the club and sweetbutts, his hobbies range from mechanics, mathematics, and collecting rare comic books.

 

[taliaangeni]

Name: Makalani "Kal"
Age: Old AF
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual
Species: Vampire
Role:
Personality:
Likes:
Dislikes:
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Background:
In 88 BC the Ptolemies were in control - as much control one could have while dethroning and having incestual relations. Soter, was a captive of war and became a chattel slave. He was a handsome man and because of that Pharaoh Ptolemy X Alexander gifted the man to his vizier. In this time some slaves were allowed personal property, wages and capable of handling transactions. Not true for chattel slaves. Soter was given food, a place to sleep and duties. Many duties. However one of the duties did not include seducing the vizier's daughter. In time it became noticeable Khepri was growing larger in the stomach area. The vizier hid his daughter away - claiming she had gone to visit family. In reality he was doing everything but torturing his teenage daughter for the person who had touched her. Learning the man's name, the vizier flew into a rage. Soter was whipped to death, his body thrown carelessly into an unmarked grave.

After giving birth Khepri was not allowed to see the child. It was handed off to an older slave woman from another house. The woman named it Makalani and she became his mother. While she was harsh, probably why the vizier chose her, Makalani was an angel in her eyes; her sole meaning of life. Thiti was a bonded slave. She had told herself into slavery at an young age in order to have shelter and food. Cook was her position and she relished it by lording over the other slaves. Makalani learned from a very young age that his life was not his. He was a slave because his mother was a slave.

Makalani grew into a very handsome man much like his unknown father. He courted a few females but made sure his master wouldn't catch him because it would have earned him a lashing and he'd had enough of those in his childhood. On his twenty-first birthday his master arranged a party. Slaves were dressed in fine clothes, some even donning jewelry and makeup to emphasize their features. This was not a normal party. Rich people were invited. One in particular had his eyes set on Makalani.

On the night of his birthday Makalani was bought by a very rich man named Orrin. The male made no contact with Makalani or any of the slaves he bought that night. They were carted to a boat and loaded into the slave quarters. On the water, a few of the slaves, including Makalani, experienced sea sickness. He was half positive the sickness would be his end. It took weeks for them to reach Greece, where his new master lived.

Upon entering the abode, the slaves were ushered into a locked room where other slaves resided. Many of the occupants lay on the floor, blood gushing from what looked like bites. The new slaves began to panic. Yelling and kicking at the door and stone walls made no impact. No one came to their rescue. Soon they found out why the others were bleeding. They too were bled by the monsters of the house. Makalani was disgusted at the actions of his master and what were his...family? The only one to touch him was the master, Orrin. Orrin forbid anyone from touching his egyptian prize. It wasn't long before Makalani was the only surviving slave from the party.

Makalani was with Orrin for a little more than a year when Orrin offered him eternal life. He wasn't sure what it meant. Wasn't sure why Orrin offered it to him.

And he bit him and life was grate.

 

[taliaangeni]

Name: Aleksa "Alek"
Age: Oldish
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual
Species: Vampire
Role:
Personality:
Likes:
Dislikes:
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Background:

 

[deer]

Io Polaris​

“sometimes we wear masks so long to hide what we truly feel that those layers become an extra skin, a part of our identity - r.H. sin"

[class=tabs] line-height: 1; margin: 20px auto; text-align: center; width: 100%; color: black; display: inline-block; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; [/class] [class=tab] box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; padding: 10px 0; width: 45%; [/class] [class name=tab state=hover] background-color: #FFFFCC; [/class] [script class=tab on=click] hide tabsContent set currentTab (getText) if (eq ${currentTab} Basics) (show tabsContentInformation) if (eq ${currentTab} Persona) (show tabsContentPersonality) if (eq ${currentTab} Biography) (show tabsContentAbout) if (eq ${currentTab} Miscellaneous) (show tabsContentOthers) [/script] [div class=tabs][div class=tab style="border: 1px solid black; margin: auto"]Basics

[div class=tab style="border: 1px solid black; margin-left: 10px; margin-top: auto; margin-bottom: auto; margin-right: auto"]Persona[/div][div class=tab style="border: 1px solid black; margin-left: auto; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: auto; margin-right: auto""]Biography[/div][div class=tab style="border: 1px solid black; margin-left: 10px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: auto; margin-right: auto"]Miscellaneous[/div][/div]

[div class="tabsContent tabsContentInformation"]

basic information:
name: io polaris. meaning moon and north star.
position: second-in-line. protector
species: vampire. as old as the stars
sexuality: romantic. doesn't have a preference

appearance: she appears young though the woman is much wiser than her appearance reflects as her eyes holds more than that of what one expects. embracing and a shadow that will shroud you in darkness for comfort than fear, her light will help guide you on the right path, maybe even home. though athletic and fit in build with long, slender legs, there seems to be a hint of fragility in the young woman's stature if one were to observe her long enough. she strides in the moment, one to take advantage of everything around her. her ocean blue eyes were once filled with aspirations, dreams, and hope and at certain times, still are. though tiredness seeps through those irises and it's unavoidable, even unattainable to catch her attention if and when she stares into space. when she smiles, an indention of her cheeks or even her chin can be shown and small little wrinkles underneath her eyes can be seen that showcases eternal joy and happiness. echoes of laughter as she leans her head back like a child can still be heard once in a blue moon. articulate and not one to mumble, her voice carries through any room she’s in, with a hint of raspiness and firmness whenever she has to lead others, but, there are many times her accent slips through.

[/div] [div class="tabsContent tabsContentPersonality" style="display: none;"]

persona:
personality: with two names that revolves around the constellations and night sky. she embodies an aura of serenity and tranquility, always wanting nothing more than to feel a sense of belonging. sensitive and emotional, io has maternal instincts, never one to back down from protecting those she loves - caring with all of her heart and being someone's saving grace for support and comfort. stubborn and resilient, io will never back down from what she believes in and will stand up against others, even if it means disagreeing with her own. she will never allow anyone to take responsibilities for her own mistakes and will own up to her own when she is wrong. io, despite being protective of others to the point of putting herself in danger for them, is not as impulsive as one many think. the vampiress thinks before she acts yet can be an unpredictable force. getting her angry and making an enemy out of io is definitely something one shouldn't underestimate from her.

generous and genuine, io has an open-mind and tends to be welcoming to others. she enjoys learning new things and isn't afraid to transfer from a "teacher" to a "student", always ready to tackle new challenges. although she is quite wise and courageous, she worries easily to the point that she may hide her feelings behind a mask, not wanting others to worry about her. io will work to the bone and can be quite a perfectionist when it comes to her duties. she hates bringing others down and being useless, not one to sit and wait - always thinking one step ahead. at the same time, the vampiress may be forgetful without noticing or intending to - her memories are severely reclining and so there may be a lot of sticky notes and/or reminders she keeps on deck.

likes: serenity, being with others and having company, playing piano and singing, learning languages and cultures
dislikes: unnecessary violence, remembering her past, people who hurt her loved ones, loneliness, cycles
strengths: agile, adaptable, open-minded, maternal, martial arts, heightened senses, certified nurse, weapons specialist, tracking and hunting, herbalist
weaknesses: her memories, essential nutrients [ her blood intake may be different than others , less powerful than her siblings ], nightshade, her family and clan, strengths in lifting / carrying

[/div] [div class="tabsContent tabsContentAbout" style="display: none;"]

biography:
herstory: to uncover io's past, starting from the very beginning would be quite a lengthy story that could take millenias to finish. despite io's constant need to journal in her life day-to-day, it wouldn't change the fact that her memories are slowly fading in and out. her timeline may get mixed up from time to time and there may be mix-ups. nevertheless, from the moment the young female vampire opened up her eyes, she knew she was different than most. her thirst for blood was off while her fellow brothers and sister's thirst were unsatiated. io was different than her clan as they enjoyed sporting for fun how much kills they can all accomplish in a day [ grass plains filled with wild beast and hunts ]. the young vampiress, at the time, only drank as needed - some thought her as weak, challenging her to become more instinctive and "monstrous" while others avoided her.

regardless, io doesn't remember much of her past but her first kill will always be etched in her mind: a kill she was not ready for, but that wouldn't happen until generations later. but, despite io's averseness to wanting to use humans for her own "toys" as her siblings would call it, she had an advantage from them: io aged quicker and excelled in what she loved quicker then her siblings, especially when she put her mind to it. io was considered a brilliant and clever vampiress, always learning and experiencing. when push came to shove, she would fall down but got up twice as strong. her loses took a huge toll on her, but when she rose above, io reveled in her achievements.

she was once everything one could possibly imagine from a handmaiden to a nurse with a turn-around as a ballerina to singer. her siblings, especially older sister couldn't understand her fascination with humans and remained away from them unless to cause havoc, especially wars. although io could have kept up with her many different talents as she was involved in many different events that she should have been reconigsed for. io would disappear before her popularity got too close, or rather, before anyone got too close to her. nevertheless, her siblings would give her a signal to her to "flee" before they jumped into the situation and decided to take matters into their own hands if situations got sticky or they wanted to "change" the world somehow.

although io and her siblings were quite polar opposites, they all cared for each other tremendously. like many siblings, they argued and picked fights, but in the end relied on each other. however, it wasn't until io met him did things take a turn for the worse. her first kill in which a life should have been spared, but alas it wasn't. a memory that will never fade away no matter how much she wanted to rip her heart out and find Nightshade to end her misery. her siblings wouldn't allow it. it took years for io to become stable under the watchful gaze of her siblings.

in the end, time continued forward. io changed her name completely, disregarding her birthname, wanting no connection with it as it only brought painful memories. she and her siblings were closer than ever, a unity, and strong connection was a positive result from what happened years prior with him. to save one life, or to save more than one life was a hard decision, but ultimately, family first, always.

although io and her siblings walked Earth for many centuries, encountered many others like them, the clan found themselves aligning and joining with another. it has been at least five years since io had been in Moonlight while her brothers and sister came and went as they pleased. however, they kept in touch via signals and letters.

[/div] [div class="tabsContent tabsContentOthers" style="display: none;"]

other:
important information: io goes by many names, taking on different names depending on the era she was in. however, the one name she keeps close to her heart is her real name: 'chaya koháry' meaning life. not many know of her true name and she prefers to keep it as such. it has only been at least a few generations now in which she's been going by io. the female vampire prefers to be known as "io polaris" - a moniker given to her by someone she cared for very much.

she has two brothers zohar and tohar and one sister noya, all older than her. being the baby of the clan, she is well-protected and watched over. despite many arguments and disagreements on stances of how they see humans and how they want to interact with the humans, io's siblings would take turn to watch over her as she was one of the purebloods who found fascination with mortals yet in the end, it was her downfall. zohar and tohar found themselves intrigued in the other aspects of the world: the supernatural side while Noya went about and did her own thing, finding entertainment wherever she could and leaving destruction and chaos as she left.

being immortal has taken a toll on io’s mentality and sanity — there’s a time and place for everything and there’s one month out of the year ( she would take two months but doesn’t trust her clan enough to take care of themselves without her worrying about them all the time ) in which she disappears to mourn and rid herself of her negative instability and it’s the one month out of the year she allows herself to face her past with her siblings.

note: don’t be surprised if she accidentally calls you by another name or she is reminded of a past acquaintance she’s met. at the same time, she may use phrases such as “in my day” , “back in the day”, “young grasshopper”, and other slang and words used throughout history.

[/div]

[/div]

codedbycrucialstar​

 

[MadiRaiCat]

Katarina Volkov

​

Nickname: Kat or Katy
Age: 101, turned at 26
Gender Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Species: Werewolf
Role: Bartender at Roots
Face Claim: Sydney Sierota
Personality:
Katarina Volkov tends to have a bright, sassy personality. She loves to help others, and has a kind soul. But that doesn't stop her from fighting back or stubbornly standing up for what she believes in. She isn't the type of wolf to blindly follow orders and submit to every will and need of authority figures. In this case, Kat can be a bit of a troublemaker at times, impulsively acting on intuition. She is a bit cold and icy at times, especially when it comes to memories of her past before she joined the pack. Kat tends to bottle vulnerable feelings away, refusing to let anyone else see her weak.

She isn't quick to let down her emotional walls, especially with those she and her pack consider enemies. But, once she care's about someone or something, she would put her life on the line to protect it. Katarina is often found behind the bar, happily lending an attentive ear to anyone who wishes to vent over a drink or two. Most people feel comfortable talking to Kat, and appreciate her unbiased rationale on whatever they have to say. Having a last name that stems from the Russian word for "wolf," Kat embodies both an Australian sweetheart and a she-wolf through her alcohol tolerance, sharp tongue, and fighting instincts.

Likes: Nature, exploration, tattoos, whiskey, singing, playing guitar, drawing, riding her motorcycle, horror movies, shifting into her wolf form, running, MMA fighting
Dislikes: Coffee, small/tight places, airplanes, boats, and all other vehicles aside from her motorcycle, romantic comedies, thunderstorms

Spoiler: Tattoos

Relationships: Friends with Dimitri and Juliette
Biography:
Katarina was born in the beautiful city of Melbourne, Australia at the end of the first world war. Her father, Igor, had left for war before her mother, Evie, even knew she was pregnant. Unfortunately, the strong and intimidating Russian man had died on the battlefield, and never got the chance to meet his daughter. As the war ended, a new epidemic swept the nation, taking many lives with it. Though the country was in a time of revival, prosperity, and peace, Katarina continued to be unlucky. The Spanish Flu came and took her mother, leaving Katarina to grow up in an orphanage for most of her childhood. By the time Kat was ten years old, she was determined to leave the orphanage behind her. The children there were starved, overworked in daily chores to help fund the orphanage, and regular beaten if they did something wrong. More children died at the orphanage than were adopted, and Kat was not about to be another sacrifice. On her eleventh birthday, Katarina escaped the prison disguised as a charity and took to the streets of Melbourne. At first, Katarina had no idea how to survive. She ate out of trash cans and slept under bridges to survive. Eventually, however, Kat learned that she the only way she could survive was to steal. And so, the teenage girl became a thief.

For over a decade, Katarina practiced and mastered the art of thievery, honing her stealth, agility, and fighting skills. She became one of the most coveted thieves in the city, finding herself lost in the chaos of it all. Patrons would pay her to steal artifacts, incriminating evidence, money, and more all for a high reward. Katarina gained a luxury lifestyle she never expected to have, given the childhood she had survived. But, she let wealth and greed get to her head. When she was 26 years old, Katarina was approached in a bar by a mysterious stranger who seemed to know all about her. He suggested to her the largest reward she had ever been offered, simply for going to a hole-in-the-wall pub and stealing a deed from the safe in the manager's office. Something about the man put her off, but Kat couldn't turn down such a large sum of money for such a seemingly easy job. And so, Katarina agreed. Little did she know that the pub was simply a front for a dangerous wolf pack.

Katarina was successful in her endeavors of stealing the deed for the mysterious man, and he paid her handsomely before disappearing. At the time, Kat didn't realize that she had been tricked, painted as the scapegoat for the crime. The wolf pack was easy to find her and took pleasure in torturing her for information on the mysterious. But Katarina couldn't answer any of their questions. With one last wolfish bite to the site of her throat, the pack through her into an alley and left her to die. She had always been a fighter and, somehow lying in a pool of her own blood, fought through the injury and pain to be turned. At first, Katarina had no idea what she was. She spent years as a wolf, running alone and killing, losing pieces of her humanity bit by bit. Somehow, she was able to keep herself together, and escaped to California so the mysterious man nor the wolf pack could not find her. Stumbling upon the Hellhounds Club and the pack behind it, Kat took the offer to join to protect herself. She has been their loyal bartender ever since.

"Mountains hide the wolf as night hides the thief."​

codedbycrucialstar​

 

[nymphadora.]

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natalia vale.

[div class=text][div class=writing]

count my cards, watch them fall blood on a marble wall i like the way they all scream. tell me which one is worse, living or dying first?

[div class=tabs]

[div class=tab]01

[div class=tab]02

[div class=tab]03

[/div][/div]

[div class="tabsContent tabsContent01"]

[div class=block style="background-color: #B17172;"]name

natalia arabella vale.
[div class=block style="background-color: #B17172;"]nickname

talia, nat, the devil, etc.
[div class=block style="background-color: #B17172;"]age[/div] unknown (153-ish).
[div class=block style="background-color: #B17172;"]d.o.b[/div] march sixteenth.
[div class=block style="background-color: #B17172;"]p.o.b[/div] siberia, russia.
[div class=block style="background-color: #B17172;"]role[/div] vice (vampire).
[div class=block style="background-color: #B17172;"]gender[/div] cis female.
[div class=block style="background-color: #B17172;"]orientation[/div] bicurious (leans either way).
[/div][/div][/div] [div class="tabsContent tabsContent02"]

[div class=block style="background-color: #B17172;"]personality

no one can really tell what natalia is thinking in her complex mind. the female can range from being graceful and elegant to ruthless and murderous in a spilt of a second. while she acts level-headed and strategic during meetings, planning and others alike, natalia is never afraid to get her sharp nails dirty and dripping with crimson blood. there's an eerie calmness that floats around natalia, her unpredictability about how she chooses who lives or who dies drives fear in others. those who manage to get past the dark and cold exterior natalia has built around herself, the ones she keep close understand that natalia has suffered and lost in order to be where she is.

natalia is loyal to those she deems worthy of being loyal to. she can be a romantic at heart, and even affectionate if someone manages to win her very fragile heart. natalia often prefers the freedom of one night stands than committed relationships. the female doesn't understand why she can't stay in a solid relationship, maybe it's from the constant running away, or even the fear of being vulnerable to someone who could hurt her. whatever it is, natalia's spirit is not easiest thing to tie down.

[div class=block style="background-color: #B17172;"]likes

bubble baths, blood, negotiations, champagne.
[div class=block style="background-color: #B17172;"]dislikes[/div] dogs, arrogance, unnecessary messes, babies.
[/div][/div][/div] [div class="tabsContent tabsContent03"]

[div class=block style="background-color: #B17172;"]playlist

natalia.

[div class=block style="background-color: #B17172;"]history

natalia was born on the cold streets of siberia, russia in a crumbling barn not far from the city of novosibirisk. born out of a love affair between a measly mundane girl and high class vampire from england, natalia’s first breathe was her mother’s last. infatuated with the human, natalia’s father didn’t give a second thought about his child as he cradled her lifeless body in his arm, salty tears dripping onto her pale cheeks, while natalia screamed for her mother, wrapped in nothing but thin clothes to keep her skin from touching the cold. after losing another lover, natalia’s father abandoned her at the barn - stupidly believing that she was nothing but human blood and flesh. for days, natalia cried in the snowy barn until a lone vampire found her. the vampire, viktor, treated natalia like his own child, caring for her vampiric needs that bloomed after natalia’s tenth birthday and taught her to be the best.

natalia adored viktor, the two were extremely close and once natalia grew up, they were often mistaken as a couple. both constantly changed their identities as they travelled the world, exploring different cultures and living extravagant lives that humans only dreamed of. during the change from the 20th to the 21th, viktor and natalia were living a life in new york as jazz duo. while viktor played the ivory keys of the piano, natalia sang sad love ballads and upbeat songs covering the tragic lyrics that went with the melody. life was perfect, as soon as time was up, natalia would change her identity yet again and they would run away to another lavish apartment.

however, viktor never left new york with natalia. on the way home, viktor was brutally murder in front of natalia's dark eyes by a werewolf drunk and high on rage. from then on, she changed after the death of the one person who cared about natalia. she became cold, stoic and the smell of werewolves made her sick to the stomach. natalia began to live a life of jumping, never staying in the same place twice after spending two weeks -- a month at best -- with someone before she would break it off and told them to find someone better. she declined rushed proposals and tried to find the feeling of being high or drunk.

nothing could fix what was left of the broken girl that was natalia. anger and the murderous will kept her going as she found herself delving into business. natalia moved to san diego alongside other vampires. while the others may have had different intentions, natalia wanted to find a place to find peace, or to spill blood, whatever was easier to achieve. [/div][/div][/div]

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[nymphadora.]

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puck wright.

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i go crazy 'cause here isn't where i wanna be and satisfaction feels like a distant memory, and i can't help myself

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[div class=block style="background-color: #6b9696;"]name

jacob puck wright.
[div class=block style="background-color: #6b9696;"]nickname

only goes by puck. some call him pup for acting like, well, a pup.
[div class=block style="background-color: #6b9696;"]age[/div] twenty two.
[div class=block style="background-color: #6b9696;"]d.o.b[/div] april fifteenth.
[div class=block style="background-color: #6b9696;"]p.o.b[/div] madrid, spain.
[div class=block style="background-color: #6b9696;"]role[/div] dumbass member/mechanic (werewolf).
[div class=block style="background-color: #6b9696;"]gender[/div] cis male.
[div class=block style="background-color: #6b9696;"]orientation[/div] heterosexual.
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[div class=block style="background-color: #6b9696;"]personality

puck, to say the least, is a big dumb ass. not in the stupid way, his intelligence levels are fine, but more in the reckless 'punch a wall because there's no pop-tarts left over' kind of dumb ass. puck struggles to explain what he's feeling to others and would rather beat something up instead. you can tell when he has been angry by the ugly green color that covers his knuckles. the male is an introvert at best, but loyal to the very end. while other members of the gang are flirty, puck can be oblivious to signs of affection or romance. it's best to leave puck to fixing and toying with mechanical parts than upset him or try to flirt with him, it might not end well if you try.

[div class=block style="background-color: #6b9696;"]likes

storms, gory movies, tattoos, pop tarts.
[div class=block style="background-color: #6b9696;"]dislikes[/div] cats, summer heat, lime in water, carrots.[/div][/div][/div] [div class="tabsContent tabsContent03"]

[div class=block style="background-color: #6b9696;"]playlist

puck.

[div class=block style="background-color: #6b9696;"]history

puck has very blurry memories of his parents and his childhood in madrid. his grandmother often told him stories about puck's parents, how deeply in love they were with each other. puck's mother was a woman who had moved from italy to madrid with only a few hundred dollars and a set of paints under her name. his father -- a werewolf -- was a lover of science, maths and the italian artist who had complimented his dark eyes. the stories puck's grandmother often told was enough for puck to believe how infatuated his parents were with each other, and yet the anger of being left behind still churned in his stomach. after the birth of their child, the rumour of a werewolf and a human relationship spread like wildfire. it was a forbidden romance, a tragedy that was written in the stars and in the warm blood that dripped on the hardwood floor.

if it wasn't for a family friend that saw the commotion in the tiny apartment, puck wouldn't have lived past the young age of two. the baby was taken to america, more specifically las vegas, where puck's grandparents resided. in the dark night, puck was left on the door step with a tiny yellow note tucked neatly in the warm blanket that covered the baby. 'jacob puck wright, your grandson.'

puck's childhood was normal like any other kid that lived on his street. his grandparents were very aware of their son's condition and only prayed that puck inherited his mother's dna. however their prayers were never answered once puck was screaming in his room, on a full moon, at the age of twelve. his grandparents pulled puck out of school and decided it was best to keep him at home, train him as mechanic and try their hardest to help puck through his new state. while puck was appreciative his grandparents help, he dreaded the night he had to chain himself up and lock himself in his room just to protect the two he loved.

the teen found comfort in being helpful around his grandfather's garage. puck was handy with his hands and was useful as a mechanic. at the age of sixteen, puck's grandfather passed away in his sleep. the funeral was short and bittersweet, with only puck and his grandmother attending. two years later, his grandmother reunited with her husband after dying from a broken heart and a terrible smoking addiction. with nothing left for him in vegas, puck took his grandfather's motorcycle and rode all the way to san diego.

puck had no intention on driving all the way to san diego, but a new start wasn't a bad idea. at the age of nineteen, puck settled into the hellhounds club and quickly became a member. the club taught him how to control the monster that hid inside of him, members of the club became like parental figures for puck, and for once in his life, he found a place where he belonged. while puck doesn't agree with the rivalry with the vampires, puck is more than happy to spend his days fixing bikes and sipping on cold drinks. [/div][/div][/div]

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[MadiRaiCat]

Leonardo Beaumont

​

Nickname: Leo
Age: 253, turned at 27
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual
Species: Vampire
Role: Apathetic Smoker, Member
Face Claim: Matthew Daddario
Personality:
When it comes to this ridiculous feud between vampires and werewolves, Leonardo Beaumont really just doesn't care. He doesn't completely understand the whole territory feud to begin with, and would rather everyone just live together in peace. Sure, the werewolves tend to smell bad and have tempers, but vampires drink blood. Everyone has flaws. Leo is quite laid-back and enjoys being around other people regardless of what species they are. He likes to introduce himself to new people and make friends, generally living his life as though it was one big vacation.

Leo is the type of person who is pragmatic, realistic, and loves to live in the moment. He can live forever, so why waste time worrying about the past or the future? Gaining a bunch of charisma and charm from his time as a noble, one would never describe him as mean or malicious. Leonardo is an open book who wears his heart on his sleeve and really has no filter of any sort. He speaks his mind without care for the consequences. What's the worst that could happen?

Likes: Smoking, drinking, adventure, any activity considered extreme or dangerous, photography, reading, blood cocktails, learning new languages
Dislikes: Pessimism, worrying, stress, arguing, planning, watching TV or movies, alcohol that is too sweet, dancing, being alone
Relationships: Open
Biography:
Leonardo was born a few decades before the fall of feudalism in Champagne, France to Lord Jacques and Lady Cateline Beaumont. As a child of nobility, Leo did not have perform manual labor and instead was promised the inheritance of his father's tariff. While Leonardo was raised wealthy with servants to wait on him hand and foot, he never became accustomed to that lifestyle. Leo would rather be out running around, helping others, and learning than stay inside listening to his father drone about business and lordship.

As he grew older, Leonardo became very well educated, particularly excelling in learning new languages. By the time he was sixteen years of age, Leo had already mastered French, English, German, Dutch, Greek, and Italian. His desire to know and befriend people from all walks of life fueled this passion. Everyone under his father's rule generally liked Leo, his care-free spirit adding to his charm.

Unfortunately, Leonardo was the exact opposite of his father in terms of personality. Lord Beaumont was an incredibly cruel man. He refused to let his people leave the land, even in the case of an emergency. Jacques worked his people to the pinnacle of exhaustion, and required an enormous amount of goods from the people as a tax for farming his land. For these reasons, the people of Beaumont's parcel absolutely despised the man and wished for his death.

By the time Leo had turned eighteen, he had met a lovely woman from a different county in France. His favorite feature of her's was her eyes, so strikingly blue that Leo felt lost at sea every time he looked into them. They became lovers, and Leo was intent on marrying her and making her the lady of the Beaumont's land one day. She, however, refused to marry him, telling Leo that she was no good as a lady because she could not bear him any heirs. Leo did not care about any of that, but he couldn't change her mind.

Soon thereafter, the French Revolution broke out into full force. During the Reign of Terror, the Beaumonts were far from safe. Though Leo was generally liked by the people of his father's lordship, he was still the heir to a lord. This made Leo as well as his parents enemies of the revolution. It didn't take long for the rebels to capture the Beaumonts and order them to be killed at the guillotine. Leo's lover was distraught by the thought of her lover's death, and thus decided to reveal to him her biggest secret. Sneaking into the holding quarters one dark night, she slipped into Leo's cell and sunk her fangs into his neck.

The following morning when Leo had realized what she had done, he was absolutely terrified and thus tried his best to escape. With heightened speed and strength, Leonardo broke from his confinement just in time to watch his parents be murdered at the guillotine. Any more time wasted, and he would have been next. Still terrified of the woman and his newfound abilities, Leo escaped France for America and spent many years learning to control his abilities and build a new life for himself. Once Leo found the brotherhood of the vampire motorcycle gang in Macon County, he felt a sense of belonging. Though he disagrees with the feud between vampires and werewolves, Leo's personality does not allow him to be alone, and so he stuck around.

"Life is one big, proverbial coin toss."​

codedbycrucialstar​

 

[AnimeGenork]

Cana Lowell
BasicsFull Name: Cana Lilith Lowell
Nickname: Smartass, NaNa, Lil
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual (somewhat Bi)
Species: Werewolf
Role: Troublemaker
Face Claim: Teresa Oman
AppearanceHair Color: Light Brown
Eye Color: Blue
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 132 lbs
Tattoos/Markings: N/A (or at least, she doesn't tell anyone)
PersonalityPersonality:
Maybe the guys have to show the females respect, but Cana thinks that's a bunch of bullshit.

Cana is incredibly bitter about her place in werewolf society, especially the "bitch" part that's constantly thrown her way when she's lounging in the bar. In her own words, she "ain't no one's bitch," and she'd rather it stay that way. Many a male have tried to have her warm up to them, but she will have none of it. She's convinced that every male werewolf is the same, and they all only show the females respect because otherwise they'd all be gone.

In general, Cana loves the idea of being a wolf, a creature of the wild. When in wolf form, she's a completely different... er... wolf. Running through the woods, shaking out her fur, and prancing through meadows are just some of the things her fellow werewolves have caught her doing. She always manages to brush it off, however, as nothing more than wolf instinct. However, she truly adores nature, and she wishes she could spend all her time in it.

Perhaps to challenge her place as "nothing more than a bitch," Cana is always causing trouble. Whether it's flirting with that guy over there the werewolves don't like or purposely kissing a vampire (not that she's done that... yet), she will do anything to show that she has a personality, and that she will not sit around patiently waiting for the boys.

If the others didn't know her better, they'd say she wanted to be one of the boys.
Likes: Running, The Woods, Being a Wolf, Causing Trouble
Dislikes: Being Called "Bitch," Most of the Other Werewolves, Alcohol, Her Temper
HistoryHistory:
From what it sounded like from the rest of the gang, some total jackass turned Cana into a werewolf.

She was not born one. No, instead, one of the crazier members of the Macon County motorcycle gang decided it would be tons of "fun" to turn some random kid into one of them.

That kid was Cana.

Maybe it was because she was already an orphan, or maybe it was because her name had a strikingly "werewolfish" ring to it, but the guy chose Cana and bit her. She screamed and tried to get away, but the shock of it all caused her to pass out. When she came to, she was in a bar, or at least that's what it looked like. Considering she was only about seven years old, it wasn't like she could exactly pinpoint that type of thing yet. Surrounded by a bunch of older girls and women, she curled in on herself and glared at them. Then the leader of women told her that she'd been turned into a werewolf, and that from now on, she would be one of them.

Cana thought, Okay, well. Now I have a home!

She came to hate this "home." As she soon found out, the female werewolves were considered more as "bitches," more meant as girlfriends or one night stands than as actual people. Er, werewolves. Cana hated this restriction. What if she wanted to ride a motorcycle? What if she wanted to participate in a fight? It annoyed her to no end, all the flirting she had to endure. She couldn't count the amount of times she punched another werewolf in the face because he'd given her a look. Her teenage years were full of scolding and punishment via cleaning the restrooms. But that was fine. She wasn't being forced to do anything she didn't particularly wanted to do, and that was her one fear.

Though she hated the punishments that came with it, Cana purposely caused trouble. If there was anything she didn't want, she didn't want to be forced to be with a man she didn't like. At all. And considering her only options are the guys who called the Original Jackass friend... Well. She's unlikely to rid herself of this fear anytime soon.
Theme Song: "Young" by Parachute

Coding by AnimeGenork ​

 

[Twin Fantasy]

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[div class=writing]FEBUARY 4TH

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@vallywally valentine.wallace

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[div class=block style="background-color: grey;"]name

valentine wallace
[div class=block style="background-color: grey;"]age[/div] 21
[div class=block style="background-color: grey;"]gender[/div] trans male
[div class=block style="background-color: grey;"]sexuality[/div] gay
[div class=block style="background-color: grey;"]species[/div] werewolf
[div class=block style="background-color: grey;"]role[/div] member, periodic tail gunner

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[div class=snap]vallyboy

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1hr ago

[div class=writing]brand new shirt!

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[div class=block style="background-color: grey;"]personality[/div]

valentine considers himself "soft-hearted", which wouldn't be entirely inaccurate. known as 'val' to his friends, he's a gentle soul with a love of animals. which isn't to say he's weak, though he does have a hard time saying 'no' to or arguing with people. he's capable of taking a fair beating and tolerates insults like a champ. he's not easily emotionally wounded, to get to him you'd have to dig deep. he doesn't understand the territory feud, but would rather not get in the way of his werewolf brothers and sisters. he doesn't enjoy his life as a werewolf and generally avoids the public during full moons when he can. he tends to act tough around his crew, not wanting to fall behind the others for being too much of a gummy bear. it's pretty obvious that he's faking it, though. val practically melts into a puddle of goo whenever he sees a puppy and gets nervous around blood. he's definitely not stupid, though. he knows a fair amount and, in particular, can repair a motorcycle on the fly, a skill he takes pride in. he also enjoys reading, and is relatively athletic. he's very easy to get along with, so long as you're nice and decent. he can be a real sweetheart, but don't mistake that kindness for a lack of assertiveness -- he's willing to defend his friends to the death, and hardly cares about his own safety in comparison.

[div class=block style="background-color: grey;"]likes[/div]

dogs
sweet food
rap and rock music
scented candles

[div class=block style="background-color: grey;"]dislikes[/div]

hot weather
bugs
people calling him a pup. he's 21!
public showers

[div class=block style="background-color: grey;"]relationships[/div] none yet

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[div class=spotify]valentine

[div class=info1] playlist

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[div class=info]title

[div class=info]artist

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garden shed

tyler the creator

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cute thing

car seat headrest

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my chinchilla

cub

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my bird performs

xtc

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you're so cool

nicole dollanganger

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re-hash

gorillaz

coded by nymphadora. ©

[div class=block style="background-color: grey;"]history

val was adopted by a mother and father. christened esther wallace, val was raised by two "kind" christian parents who figured raising a werewolf child would be simple enough. he was kept inside for the bulk of his life, homeschooled and kept to himself. during his transformations he'd be locked in his room until it passed, usually causing massive amounts of destruction in his wake. during his childhood he had a lot of time for self-reflection, as he was almost constantly alone. as val got older, he became more threatening and dangerous. his mother and father hung a silver rosary around his neck, which left a cross-shaped burn scar in his chest, to keep him at bay. he was ashamed of himself, and didn't feel comfortable in his own skin. he shed his christian throat shackle and barreled through his window on a full moon at age 16, running away from his home. he traveled the country for a long time. discovered he identified as male, bought a chest binder, ate mcdonald's for the first time, met people and did things he'd never imagined, saw a dog for the first time, and finally appeared at roots -- a bar fully populated by people just like him. not trans men, but werewolves. with a bit of chin scruff developing, he managed to pass as a cisgender man in this very gender-oriented hierarchy. despite being a big softie, he managed to prove his nerves and become a part of the hellhounds. nobody knows he's trans.

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