Post by EVE LIDDEL on Jan 29, 2012 16:55:12 GMT -5
show the world a little style,
a little attitude
[/color]a little attitude
EveLiddel[/font][/b][/size]
sup, my name is Luke
been breathing air for 17 years now
but only been living for 10+
you can drop me a line at
Email: Badapple13@gmail.com
MSN: Amaranthwithrow@hotmail.com
Skype: Gothikaviktoria
Twitter: Lordwithrow
hey teachers, hey creatures,
i'm gonna' school ya'[/color][/font][/center]
nicknames: Eve doesn’t have any nicknames, she simply goes by Eve.
age: Eve’s physical age makes her look as if she’s about 26.
immortal age: Eve’s true age is about 3 times that, her actual age being 91, and though Witches naturally live longer than most humans, Eve uses spellwork to keep her body young, she still dies when her time is up, but Eve can’t stand to see herself get any older than what she considers to have been the prime of her life.
birthday: Eve was born on the 21st of June in the year of 1921, during Midsummer’s Eve, hence her name. The human Wiccan’s call this time Summer solstice, or Litha.
gender: Female
orientation: Eve is heterosexual.
species: Witch, a powerful one at that.
coven: Eve started up with the Draconis coven several decades back and has actually enjoyed her time with them, for now, they serve her needs and shelter her for the time being. Until she has enough power to attempt her own goals, she will stay with them.
position: Eve is the Speaker of the Draconis Clan, helping -- -- GATES as much as he needs, while she also works out her own plans.
[/ul]
just wait
take a breath of air before you faint
[/color][/font][/center]take a breath of air before you faint
height: Eve is a shorter girl, standing only 5’7.
weight: As with her height, Eve is a small person, weighing only 110 pounds.
build Willowy but athletic, she doesn’t have an amazing ‘fitness-model’ body, but Eve keeps herself in good shape and health.
eyes: Eve has large and innocent hazel eyes, but behind those eyes, anyone who knows her can see the sharp and wicked intelligence.
hair: Eve spends a great deal of time on her hair, making sure her long chestnut brown locks stay clean and well taken care of.
distinguishing features: Her eyes are her most distinguishing characteristic, because despite them being a rather average color, they hold the quality of being able to stare straight through a person. Someone who catches Eve’s gaze is often captivated for just a moment before going on. It is unknown to the other Witches of the Draconis clan if this a spell on her part, a very peculiar glamour, or if it’s just the eyes the Goddess gave her.
tattoos and piercings: Eve has both ears pierced and a badly crafted tattoo on her wrist of a heart.
personal style: Eve dresses smart, everything she wears is expensive and designer, as should be for the Speaker, but at the same time, everything she wears is also quite functional. A typical outfit for her would consist of black leather pants by Hermes, distressed leather boots by Christian Louboutin, and a cream coloured blouse and black suede jacket, both by Chanel, and all of her jewelry by either Van Cleef and Arpels, Cartier or Fred Leighton.
However, Eve also knows the value of dressing up and dressing down, and does so as the situation merits. Some people might ask why Eve spends so much on her wardrobe, and they would simply receive of the answer of ‘it’s pretty.’
[/ul]
do you think you're right,wronged,
or do you think you'll fight?
[/color][/center][/font]or do you think you'll fight?
-Magic
-Politics of the supernatural world
-Beauty
-Expensive things
-The finer things in life
-Forbidden Knowledge
-Loud music
-Manipulating events to suit her
dislikes:
-Being outmaneuvered
-Being lied too
-Being interrupted when she’s working on something important
-Most other Supernaturals, though she’ll deal with Vampires
-Hunters, especially the ones that think they can take her.
-The Scarlett Council
-The High Priestess especially
-People learning too much about her.
strengths:
-Power Magic
-Skilled in battle magic
-Good at subterfuge
-Good at Plotting and Political maneuvering
-Wise
-Manipulative
weaknesses:
-Introverted
-Untrusting
-Physically quite weak
-Easy to anger
-Is easily tempted with the promise of more magical power
-Can’t see past her own goals to anyone else’s problems
-Unempathetic.
greatest fear: Eve’s greatest fear is being separated from her love for the rest forever.
greatest desire: To gain enough power to raise her love from the grave, or, if she learns that this is truly impossible by the laws of nature, then to gain enough power to summon his spirit, at least for a little bit, so she can say goodbye and that she’s sorry.
habits and quirks:
-Fidgets when bored
-Always wakes up at 4 am every day, without the use of an alarm clock. Literally, 4 am on the dot, every day.
-Would probably wither up and die without at least 2 cups of Starbucks a day.
-Is actually a vegetarian
-Will only drink Wine, Vodka or Absinthe for alcoholic beverages.
overall personality: Eve’s overall personality is a strange one, as she is a strange girl. She loves beauty and opulence in everything, that’s why she decorates herself with the most expensive of adornments; she only eats at the finest of restaurants. But on the flip side of this, she hates being surrounded by things that are unpleasing to the eye, even people, making her a bit of sociopath, but Eve of course doesn’t see it that way.
She’s very driven, to a fault in fact, that she doesn’t care who she hurts to get to where she feels she needs to be.
Politically and in battle, Eve has no mercy, she may not be unnecessarily cruel, but there isn’t an ounce of mercy in her heart for anyone or anything, it’s her way or the highway and she lives by that. This of course, isn’t to say that she’s stupid and doesn’t know when to show proper deference. When the High Priest is about, Eve always makes sure she’s polite and proper, not only out of manipulative convenience, but also out of genuine respect. That’s the thing with Eve, if you don’t earn her respect, you’ll never have any of it, but once you earn her respect, or even more rarely, her loyalty, she’ll defend you to the death, but getting that far is far from easy.
Eve is very punctual and organized at the Speaker for the whole Coven, and as such, she gets absolutely furious with anyone who dares to fuck with her system of management of the basic things of the Coven. The trivial things, she hands off to the Listener, but the bigger and more Coven-affecting things, she handles herself unless the High Priest particularly assigned someone else to do it of course, or if he wishes to do it.
In general, Eve is a good friend…but a deadly enemy.
[/ul]
we are young, we are done
we ain't fighting nothing
[/color][/font][/center]we ain't fighting nothing
father: George, 53, Lawyer, deceased.
siblings: N/A
extended family: Eve has a grandmother, her name is Gladys Liddel, and she was the Witch in the family that gave Eve her gift. She died three years ago.
pets: Eve has no time for pets.
nationality: English, Irish, Bulgarian, German, American
birthplace: Los Angeles, California.
history: Eve was born in the 20’s in California, back when the world was a simpler place. She grew up under the watchful eye of her mother and grandmother, while her father went to work every day. Her life was a boring one. Of course…until she hit puberty.
Eve had always been a strange child, dabbling in things she shouldn’t. She had always liked to watch her grandmother ‘play’ with her pretty rocks, liked to help her in the garden with all of the herbs. She could run faster than all the other girls, she could climb the tallest trees.
Her Grandmother had known what she was, and cherished her that much more.
And then her father came home drunk one night and beat the living hell out of everyone in the house. Eve doesn’t fully remember what happened that night, but someone how the house had caught on fire, and her grandmother had whisked her away from that life, and together, they rode the train north, to Chicago.
Gladys taught Eve what she could of what she was and how the magic worked, and Eve readily embraced it. But when Eve grew into her teenage years, she began to grow rebellious, and she began to sneak around, go to concerts she wasn’t supposed to, take and drinks things she wasn’t supposed to, but it was fun, and that was the point to Eve. “And it harm none, do what ye will? Right?” is what she told her grandmother.
And then Eve fell in love.
The boy’s name was Caleb, and Eve loved him so much it hurt, to the point where she ran away with him, in the back of his car, she rode off into the sunset with him for that happily ever after she had been searching for, for just so long.
They lived off the land for a long while, travelling from place to place, where they would stand on street corners, and Caleb would strum his guitar and Eve would sing, and people would toss them a few dollars. It wasn’t much, but they were in love and needed nothing else then each other.
But the past always repeats itself, and one night, Caleb came home, drunk and frightened about their financial situation. Eve and him got into an argument, and Eve ended up flinging his only guitar out the window of their little second story studio apartment they had rented for a few days.
With their only form of support now in splinters and broken strings, Caleb lost it, and again, Eve was beaten by a man she loved.
And again, her home caught on fire.
Eve regrets that night more than anything, she wishes she could take back everything, all the hurtful words she hurled at him before breaking that stupid guitar. And over the years, her need to set things right with the only man she ever truly loved has festered and turned into something else entirely.
She wants him back.
[/ul]
way outside yourself
there's someone out there
who wants you to be free
[/color][/center][/font]there's someone out there
who wants you to be free
roleplay sample:
This is from a site called Plagued.
Charity smiled at Harper when he climbed into the truck, and without answering him, she set the car into gear and started out of the parking lot and down through the streets at a fast-speed, moving faster than they could’ve run even if they had chosen that method.
Taking a corner, Charity let out a sigh, ”Harper, I never expected you to guard my home. I shouldn’t have…let whatever killed me kill me. So, if something or someone’s taken up residence there, then I have no one to blame but myself.” Ugh, Charity hated these sappy talks she often ended up having with Harper, but at the same time, she loved the fact that she could have them.
Swing the vehicle up onto the freeway over-pass, Charity sped up a bit more, swinging around the long curve and heading back towards 4th street, if she was smart, she’d stop at one of her favorite stores and pick up something more flattering to wear, which, the more she thought of it, she decided she absolutely, was going to do. If she was going to have to fight something to get her fucking home back, then she was going to do it while looking as sexy as ever.
Parking the truck at the curb at the start of one of her favorite places in the world, Charity turned the car off and hopped out, ”C’mon, I’ll do your make-up if you want.” Charity offered to Harper as she walked by. She wasn’t sure if he wore make-up, but he had great skin…so…if the shoe fits. But even if he didn’t, Charity could make anyone look a bazillion times more amazing, even someone with such pleasing features as Harper already.
Heading into a store, the words ‘Saks 5th Avenue’, scrawled in rusted, bloodstained metal lettering above the door, Charity was a blur of motion. The worn leather jacket and hospital gown were discarded, and after debating with herself in the mirror for a few, good minutes, replaced with tight, black leather skinnies that made her ass look fabulous, grabbing a black bra, she slung that on and over that, a sheer, lace wrap that was probably at one point, extravagantly expensive lingerie. Slipping her feet into a pair of black, Christian Louboutin ‘fuck me’ pumps, she glanced at herself in the mirror and sighed.
Now she looked like her old self.
To Charity, perception was everything. It didn’t matter if she was Pothos, or anything else special anymore, she wasn’t going to let that get to her. She was going to take back her home, kill everything in it, and continue on her way of making sure she had as much fun as possible. But the perception that others had of her still mattered to her.
People recognized her face, recognized how much skin she showed at all times, recognized her demeanor, her vicious countenance. The longer she stood there, staring at her reflection in the mirror, Charity began to realize things.
There wasn’t a hard-cut off anymore. There wasn’t a Charity Laudric and then a Pothos anymore. It had been too long, the lines had blurred, even if the title didn’t belong to her, she’d always be the ‘real’ Pothos, when the end truly came and everything ceased to be, and when she stood before whatever was going to judge her, she would stand there as the true Pothos, not whoever had stolen her title while she was in hell.
”Even if no one can see me…I’m still her.” Charity nodded to herself, trying to make herself believe it.
Suddenly the mirror shattered into a thousand pieces, falling to the floor with a clang of broken glass. Charity’s fists were clenched and she stared down at the shards of her scattered reflection, her powers causing little shards to float up and about her in an infinitely sharp dance. The various fragments that made up the Overmind pulled at each other, trying to rend her mind into little pieces, but she shook them off, she played the music in her head that she played when she was little, when the voices would scream and yell and tell her to do things.
Those horrible things.
Is she horrible?
Absolutely, and Charity wouldn’t have it any other way. God left her, betrayed and alone, while Lucifer had now given her two chances at a real life. Where she was the master and everyone else was the slave, where she had the power to fight back against the injustices that plagued her childhood.
Letting the sharp shards drop to the floor like little, crystalline raindrops, she left the boutique and headed for the make-up store down the street, busting down the doors to Sephora, Charity took stock of everything that was left, and went about doing her make-up the way she liked it.
Bold and bright red lips, deep black eyeshadow and liner, a slight amount of glittery pale blush. While she was applying her mascara, Charity nearly tripped on a corpse that surprised her. She hadn’t even smelled it when she walked in. Finishing her make-up, Charity checked over the corpse, finding that she had been killed only a few hours ago. Rigor Mortis has set in, but the blood was still even, almost imperceptibly warm to her fingers.
Licking the redness off from her fingers, Charity made a mental note to find some acrylic in this place so she could do her nails. On the body, Charity found only a pistol with one clip of ammo.
”Ehh, why not?” She remarked, taking the gun with her.
Grabbing everything she felt she would need to do Harper’s make-up if he wanted it done, and the things she needed for her nails, Charity left, swinging back into the other boutique and grabbing a purse in which to store the gun.
Heading back for the truck, Charity set it into gear and started off slowly down 4th street.
Charity smiled at Harper when he climbed into the truck, and without answering him, she set the car into gear and started out of the parking lot and down through the streets at a fast-speed, moving faster than they could’ve run even if they had chosen that method.
Taking a corner, Charity let out a sigh, ”Harper, I never expected you to guard my home. I shouldn’t have…let whatever killed me kill me. So, if something or someone’s taken up residence there, then I have no one to blame but myself.” Ugh, Charity hated these sappy talks she often ended up having with Harper, but at the same time, she loved the fact that she could have them.
Swing the vehicle up onto the freeway over-pass, Charity sped up a bit more, swinging around the long curve and heading back towards 4th street, if she was smart, she’d stop at one of her favorite stores and pick up something more flattering to wear, which, the more she thought of it, she decided she absolutely, was going to do. If she was going to have to fight something to get her fucking home back, then she was going to do it while looking as sexy as ever.
Parking the truck at the curb at the start of one of her favorite places in the world, Charity turned the car off and hopped out, ”C’mon, I’ll do your make-up if you want.” Charity offered to Harper as she walked by. She wasn’t sure if he wore make-up, but he had great skin…so…if the shoe fits. But even if he didn’t, Charity could make anyone look a bazillion times more amazing, even someone with such pleasing features as Harper already.
Heading into a store, the words ‘Saks 5th Avenue’, scrawled in rusted, bloodstained metal lettering above the door, Charity was a blur of motion. The worn leather jacket and hospital gown were discarded, and after debating with herself in the mirror for a few, good minutes, replaced with tight, black leather skinnies that made her ass look fabulous, grabbing a black bra, she slung that on and over that, a sheer, lace wrap that was probably at one point, extravagantly expensive lingerie. Slipping her feet into a pair of black, Christian Louboutin ‘fuck me’ pumps, she glanced at herself in the mirror and sighed.
Now she looked like her old self.
To Charity, perception was everything. It didn’t matter if she was Pothos, or anything else special anymore, she wasn’t going to let that get to her. She was going to take back her home, kill everything in it, and continue on her way of making sure she had as much fun as possible. But the perception that others had of her still mattered to her.
People recognized her face, recognized how much skin she showed at all times, recognized her demeanor, her vicious countenance. The longer she stood there, staring at her reflection in the mirror, Charity began to realize things.
There wasn’t a hard-cut off anymore. There wasn’t a Charity Laudric and then a Pothos anymore. It had been too long, the lines had blurred, even if the title didn’t belong to her, she’d always be the ‘real’ Pothos, when the end truly came and everything ceased to be, and when she stood before whatever was going to judge her, she would stand there as the true Pothos, not whoever had stolen her title while she was in hell.
”Even if no one can see me…I’m still her.” Charity nodded to herself, trying to make herself believe it.
Suddenly the mirror shattered into a thousand pieces, falling to the floor with a clang of broken glass. Charity’s fists were clenched and she stared down at the shards of her scattered reflection, her powers causing little shards to float up and about her in an infinitely sharp dance. The various fragments that made up the Overmind pulled at each other, trying to rend her mind into little pieces, but she shook them off, she played the music in her head that she played when she was little, when the voices would scream and yell and tell her to do things.
Those horrible things.
Is she horrible?
Absolutely, and Charity wouldn’t have it any other way. God left her, betrayed and alone, while Lucifer had now given her two chances at a real life. Where she was the master and everyone else was the slave, where she had the power to fight back against the injustices that plagued her childhood.
Letting the sharp shards drop to the floor like little, crystalline raindrops, she left the boutique and headed for the make-up store down the street, busting down the doors to Sephora, Charity took stock of everything that was left, and went about doing her make-up the way she liked it.
Bold and bright red lips, deep black eyeshadow and liner, a slight amount of glittery pale blush. While she was applying her mascara, Charity nearly tripped on a corpse that surprised her. She hadn’t even smelled it when she walked in. Finishing her make-up, Charity checked over the corpse, finding that she had been killed only a few hours ago. Rigor Mortis has set in, but the blood was still even, almost imperceptibly warm to her fingers.
Licking the redness off from her fingers, Charity made a mental note to find some acrylic in this place so she could do her nails. On the body, Charity found only a pistol with one clip of ammo.
”Ehh, why not?” She remarked, taking the gun with her.
Grabbing everything she felt she would need to do Harper’s make-up if he wanted it done, and the things she needed for her nails, Charity left, swinging back into the other boutique and grabbing a purse in which to store the gun.
Heading back for the truck, Charity set it into gear and started off slowly down 4th street.
[/ul]
I WANTED TO BE ME !
[/color][/font][/center][/ul][/size]
