Fandom With Feeling... A Buffy The Vampire Slayer RP

[RingSlinger]

Character: Daron King.


Bio: Daron is a vampire. Not the most ancient, nor the oldest. His actual age was unknown to all but his maker, though his maker was killed in the 80s by a talented Slayer. His style of dress does not reflect his historical origin, it's simply the fashion that spoke to him the most, and thus the fashion he has chosen to express. At some point in a career that proudly spanned several continents and included more murderous, torturous behavior that anyone is really comfortable talking about, Daron became an enforcer for a Vampire Lord. This arrangement worked beautifully for Daron until the Vampire Lord put him on a job that ended up being slightly too much. His failure, combined with his survival, took him from "favorite son" to "biggest let down" and the Vampire's personal Witch cast a dark, primeval spell to give Daron the one thing that could bring a Vampire of his stature to his knees, a conscious... his soul.


Historically, Daron fell of the map after this. Re-appearing publicly at some point in Garverton.


Powers/Abilities: He has the standard abilities of a Vampire, super-strength, enhanced speed and senses, as well as the need to feed on blood to survive.


Physically, he is average height, with jet black hair. His style is that of a greaser. He has no noticeable accent, but this is the result of years and years of practice.

 

[call me rae]

Princess Charmaine Charming

The Disney Witch
​

Nickname : Weirdo, Hippie, Princess


Age : Twenty


Gender : Female


Occupation : Perfume Maker, Student


Magical Abilities : She's good at research and knows a lot about "disney style" curses. She's also pretty good at detecting people under magical influence but can't preform that many spells successfully yet.

no slide

Modern Day Princess

Hey there Princess Charmaine here gettin’ ready to unload a whole lot of truth bombs on you people. Before we go any further - yes Princess Charmaine is my actual name. No I don’t know what my mother’s obsession with naming me after Royalty was. But it sure made for an interesting childhood let me tell you. I grew up in Storybrooke and I swear to God everyone in that entire town was brainwashed by Walt Disney. I can’t count how many Cindy’s, Belle’s, and Sneezy’s where in my graduating class alone. The whole town was convinced they were auditioning for real life Fairytales complete with Fairy Godmothers and Happily Ever Afters and all the Bibbity Bobbity [bleep].


But I’m getting ahead of myself before we get into my whole Happily Ever After we should get to know one another first. I’m PC, and I’ve lived my whole life under the “blessing” and “guidance” of a Fairy Godmother. When I was born she blessed me with “An Honest and Forthright Nature, A Tender Heart that Always Sees the Best In Man, and the ever popular Beloved Continence. More on what those actually mean below. But the gist of it - if you look at me without my layers of fabric protection you're instantly struck dumb with blind devotion. I will become your very reason for existence and let’s just say that’s waaay more scary than people think it sounds. I mean am I the only one who watched Dateline and sees those creepy documentaries on crazed stalkers?


Not only that but I’m Honest to A Fault. Meaning I can’t lie. Like ever. About anything. Seriously ask me any question under the sun and I will be compelled to tell the Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing But the Truth so help me Godmother.


Needless to say this sucks big donkey dangly bits.


Now unlike most of the Cindy, Belle, Aurora’s, or various other Princess Clones that make up Storybrooke I’ve never been content to live the willfully ignorant life of a pretty little princess. Godmother really bit herself in the ass when she gave me Honesty as a major defining characteristic. It means I can see through the lies that are woven into the very foundation of my Town. And more over I’m compelled to speak up about them - ad nasueum. I’m like the Girl Who Cried Wolf. Except unlike the lucky little brat in the story I really am telling the truth. The wolf is among the sheep folks and everyone in Storybrooke is screwed.

Not So Happily Ever After

Right well I guess I never got around to my personality but that’s about the closest I ever get to lying so I’ll put that under loopholes. Instead I’m going to take this time to crack your world wide open. If your over the age of like two and of the female persuasion I’m sure you’ve seen/heard of/been bombarded by the Disney Princess Craze. Who doesn’t want to be a Princess and have their Prince Charming come and rescue them from a life of drudgery? For that matter who doesn’t want a Fairy Godmother to come and Bibbity Bobbity Boo all their troubles away.


Well let me tell you ain’t nothing in life free sisters. And Happily Ever After comes at a pretty heavy price.


You see my parents - like most denizens of Storybrooke - where practically bottle fed on that whole fairytale malarky. Every single day their parents would tell them all about the wonders of having a Fairy Godparent and the joy and bliss that came from being a “good heart” in Storybrooke.


They were given their own virtues and they lived them until the day they had me. And they made a deal with one of the Fairy Godmothers of our town.


I don’t know which one gave me my blessing but whoever she was - she was a nasty piece of work. Normally a standard Blessing will cost you a bit of personal misfortune or end in straight up murder shortly after your kid leaves their nappies. Think about it - how many Disney Parents survive to see their kid go to kindergarten - much less high school ?


Well my parents they got the life sucked out of them all right - but it was a slow lingering death. All the vitality taken from them as if that bitch fairy was sipping from them like they were human smoothies.


They ended up lying down on my thirteenth birthday and just never waking up.


Talk about a traumatic experience - or it would have been if I hadn’t none since I was like five that they were dying.


Let me tell you Storybrooke is a messed up place when you can see beyond the illusions and pretty trappings to the real story beneath.


We’re some kind of breeding farm for a bunch of demons - or maybe they really are fairies who knows?


I was never able to really find a distinction in any of my books.


Well let’s just say that I was kicked off the Farm shortly after my parents died. I think the fairies figured I’d get like gang raped or thrown in a funny farm. They wanted my life to suck - not that it didn’t in Storybrooke but Outside was waaay worse.


But unlucky for them I’ve never been the pampered sort of Princess. No I’m more like the female empowerment kind of Princess that is resourceful and determined to complete her epic quest to Defeat the Ultimate Evil.


That’s pretty much what I’ve been doing all these years. Searching for all the books on magic I can find - hunting down some witches with a bent for good magic and basically doing whatever I can to beat the System and figure out a way to free the people of Storybrooke.

Always Read the Fine Print

So that last pronouncement made me sound like kind of a bad ass huh? Don’t get your hopes up I’m a grade A wimpy chick.


Anyway the first thing you must know when dealing with magic , magical contracts , demon deals , etc. always listen/read the fine print.


For instance here is the blessing my dear sweet Godmother gave me at birth - "She shall see always the good in Man, Be Beloved by all who gaze upon her, Able to see into the true heart and soul of all she meets, An honest and forthright soul never shall a lie cross her lips."


Now what this means without the flowery words - I am unable to see the bad in humanity. You could be a stone cold serial killer standing over the severed bodies of your victims and I’d still see you as a swell human being. Basically if life were a horror movie I’d have been dead years ago.


I am also as I stated previously able to instill a slavish devotion on anyone who gazes upon me - so basically if you see any portion of my skin for a period of like over a second then you're going to be my slave for life. I’ve solved this particular issue by wearing noxious eye watering scents and loud colors. The more you focus on my smell and clothes the less you focus on me.


Next up is the see into the true heart and soul - basically I see souls and the deepest desires/darkest urges of anyone I am introduced to. So needless to say I don’t do introductions if I can at all avoid it.


Lastly is the biggie - the one that makes my life all kinds of miserable. I can’t lie. At all, ever for any reason. No white lies, no fudging the truth, I must answer in a honest and forthright manner to any question posed to me.


Sadly there’s no real way around this one but I try to compensate for the random truth bombs with just being as generally unpleasant as I can. Tends to make people less likely to stick around and talk to me in general.

Selfie

Now onto the most important aspect of any Princess, her appearance. I’m not exactly a ugly troll but I’m no Cinderella either. Beauty was thankfully not one of the Blessings I was given. Instead I’d say I’m on the pretty end of average. Without the compulsion I wouldn’t exactly be stopping traffic but I wouldn’t make you gag to look at me either.


I’ve got pale caucasian skin - a little rough patches and on ocassion red blotches from whatever scent I’ve poured over myself - but on the whole decent enough I guess.


I’ve got nice blue eyes - nothing to write home about but they’re my favorite feature.


Frizzy rats nest hair that I deliberately tangle into truly horrific knots as much as possible. I’ve got a slender build and little stamina when it comes to the physical arts.


But put me in a situation when I have to run for my life and I think I do okay for a unenhanced nerdy witch.


My clothes are pretty much blinding. Or hideous. Or hideously blinding. I Love 80s fashion and anything with neon. The more eye catching my clothes are the better.


And of course I always take pains to remain covered from head to foot. Jeans, tights, jeggings, whatever is necessary on my legs. Long sleeves, jackets, shawls, anything to cover my shoulders. And typically some kind of glasses over my eyes.