Post by Nightspeed on Jan 20, 2010 20:20:54 GMT -5
((Sara Paxton is mine... try to take her and I shall brutally murder you IC))
::Name:: Abbey Rachel Dawn (('Bambi'))
::Age:: Looks 20
::Race:: Vampire
::Canon or Original?:: Original
::Appearance:: Abbey has light, fluffy blonde hair that hangs down her back in loose curls. She had icy blue eyes and dark lashes. She looks a bit like a deer, and judging by her personality she is appropriatley called 'Bambi'. She is pale as a ghost despite living in California for most of her life, hiding the fact that she is a Vampire. Abbey is rather beautiful, but not quite ready for being called 'gorgeus'.
::Personality:: Abbey is normally care-free and light; understandable since she is a vampire. She can be outgoing, she can be serious and dark. She's rather unpredicatble, and has an explosive temper. Abbey likes to be focused on, enjoying attention. She is somewhat big-headed, immediatley taking offense to being called 'big-headed'. She is rather arrogant and cocky at times, but is lovable all the same. She can be an ass to some while being the best friend in the world to others. It depends if you manage to step on her one nerve.
::History:: Bambi was born in Germany, seventeen years before WWII began. She was raised in a small town called Zweedorf; home-schooled and born to a wealthy couple. She was known for her beauty and her singing voice, one of the ones that would've qualified to be a member of Hitler's 'perfect' race. When seventeen, World War II began. During the great war she was taken to Italy by her parents, despite the fact that it really didn't help.
From Germany to Italy, Bambi was torn apart from friends and family. She was soon affected by Pancreatic Cancer, although they didn't know about it at the time. It was during her battle with this fatal cancer that she was transformed into a Vampire; frozen forever at seventeen. Leaving Italy, she joined the German forces in the war. She was trained breifly, becoming known as 'indestrucible'. This wasn't the smartest thing she ever did, but it did help her with her military training.
Bambi sticks mainly to the Air Force, enjoying the sensation of flying. She knows that in the air you have to be number one. Flying is a challenge and rather fun, the fact that she has to be number one in the air sticking with her. She joined the forces of the Autobots after becoming entirely fascinated, enjoying the fact that she would be alive to see what will happen in the future.
::Alliance:: Autobot
::Alt-Mode:: She's a Vampire, so she has not Alt-Mode.
::Holoform:: She's a vampire....
::Your Name:: Tiffany
::Your Age:: None of your concern...
::RP Experience:: Seven years, baby!
::RP Sample:: This is with a different character, my Necromancer from a different site.
As she stepped back into Life Astareal stared hard into the distance. A Dead Hand was walking towards her, looking hungry and starved. Bringing Saraneth out of it’s pouch, the girl rang the bell with confidence. Saraneth’s deep voice boomed out of the night, and the Hand stopped in it’s tracks. “Go find a human and suck the Life out of them, then meet me back here. I’ll be waiting.” The grotesque figure turned, bones squealing in protest, and headed off into the night. How she could put up with those nasty figures she didn’t know; but she managed it all the same. They weren’t all that bad once you adapted to them.
Astareal was looking for someone to come to her and try to stop her from letting that hand stop from killing someone. If they hated it that much, she could always get the dead person’s spirit and give it a body. Then it could feast on whoever was in her way. A smirk coming to the girl’s face, she closed her eyes and emerged in Death, the tug of the river familiar on her ankles. Her body in Life was frozen over and stuck in a position where she stood with her arms folded across her chest.
In Death, Astareal looked around and listened for a moment, before quickly proceeding to the Second Precinct. There was a spirit here, she could tell. Ringing Saraneth, replacing the bell, then drawing Mosrael, the girl rang the bell and was propelled into the Third Precinct, quickly speaking a few words in order to return to the second. If she didn’t do this quickly she would be carried away by the waves… As she made it back to the Second Precinct, she replaced Mosrael and drew Saraneth yet again. She stared at the ground and avoided the holes, muttering another spell in order to return to the First Precinct. Once in the First Precinct, she exited Death and returned to Life.
As Astareal was unthawing she stretched and looked to Shadow Hand beside her. “You are to go baby-sit the Dead Hand and make sure he doesn’t fall into the water. It would be a loss if he did.” The Shadow Hand sped off and Astareal smirked and turned on her heels, enjoying the cool breeze coming from the direction of the castle ruins. This was the ideal place to summon the Dead, the presence of decayed bodies and lost spirits making it an easy access point. Perhaps she should go into Death and bring back a Mordicant? No, she didn’t need a bounty hunter right now. She needed a companion. After waiting for about fifteen minutes, Astareal approached the ruins of the castle and walked inside.
Inside it was dark and eerie, and the place seemed to be haunted. “It’s a shame that something like this had to happen to a wonderful castle.” Astareal’s voice was smooth and liquid like, making her seem sweet and able to mask what she truly was. Kicking a small rock she made it to the Throne Room, as she shoved on the doors they opened with little resistance. Wandering up to the destroyed chairs she stared at the ground and felt somewhat sorry for the King who had died here. Those people may have acted a little too harshly, but at least it had brought them some peace.
Astareal pivoted as she heard the doors close, looking around in the darkness to find the figure who had closed it. Sorcerer’s Spark brightening she was able to see a few feet in front of her. Saraneth’s power still over the Dead she had summoned, Astareal willed her companions to return to her side. As if in response to this thought, the doors opened yet again and the familiar sound of protesting bones was there in the room. Somewhere in the room the Shadow Hand lurked, for Astareal’s death sense was going crazy. There had to be more than one here.
“Is there anyone of the living in this room besides me?” Astareal’s voice held traces of curiosity and gentleness, although that could change in an instant. Not getting a reply the girl figured that the Shadow Hand had entered and closed the door behind it. “In which case, come my friends. We shall go explore more.” Exiting the room, Astareal’s hair flowed behind her and both the Hands followed her happily.
Removing Dyrim from the Bandolier, she rang the sweet, melodic bell and then replaced it quickly, then drawing Belgaer and ringing the bell separately. She had just restored speech and thought to the Dead creatures, although they were still bound to her will by Saraneth. “Tell me your names, friends.” Astareal continued walking, waiting for a reply from the Dead beings. “I was called Liam when I was alive.” This voice was raspy and quiet, sounded like a big blob of blah to the untrained ear. This was the voice of a Dead Hand. “I was called Mairha, living here in this castle and serving the King.” This voice was electric, sounding static and like it would give out anytime.
Astareal nodded in response, entering the Dining Room of the castle. This room had been almost completely demolished, one of the walls taken out. From this room you could see outside, see the moon in the sky and feel the cool breeze. The Dead Hand spoke again, seeming to be curious. “Master, why did you summon us?” Astareal turned to the hand and glared, before answering in a harsh tone. “Who are you to question my actions?” The girl looked to both the Hand and thought about using Dyrim again, but decided against it.
“If you must know, it was for entertainment purposes only.” Astareal answered the question and started up the spiral staircase, leading to the tallest tower of the castle. The
Shadow Hand followed but the Dead Hand did not. Sighing, Astareal drew Saraneth and rang the bell loudly, the Dead Hand following like a solider, marching up the stairs. ”Much better. So, Mairha, how were you killed?” Astareal asked, continuing up the stairs. “A werewolf ripped me apart. It was rather painful.” Raising an eyebrow as she reached room at the top of the stairs, Astareal was bewildered when she found it to be locked.
Astareal looked to her hands and gestured to the door, the two Hands’ strength combined knocking it down no problem. Poking her head inside the girl looked around but did not enter, due to the fact that one of the living was inside this room. Liam walked forward and was thinking about draining the life out of the character before Astareal screamed ‘NO!’ inside her mind. The Hand stopped in it’s tracks and returned to the girl before being taking downstairs and disassembled by the Mairha. Dead Hands were much to stupid to do anything with, beside let them feast freely on humans…. Not that Astareal had ever done that before, of course.
Staring at the figure Astareal felt the Shadow Hand return to her and hover there behind her. She stood quietly in the door and began to feel sympathy for whoever was up here. A ruined castle was no place the normal person would like to be. Then again, perhaps this was a Hybrid or one of the other races. It was hard to tell, for around here no one was really all that normal. Hand resting on Kibeth, she drew the bell and rang it in a figure eight, sending Mairha and Liam’s spirit’s to the Ninth Precinct. Now she may be able to speak to this person without scaring them away.
Gently placing Kibeth back into it’s pouch, Astareal entered the room, scuffing her feet to let the figure know that she had entered. ”What are you doing in a ruined castle, in the highest room of the tallest tower, for that matter? Sorry if I interrupted anything.” The girl’s eyes shined brightly in the dark, curious and excited. Someone living who she had cornered and could talk to, unless they were willing to jump out the tiny window. Astareal smirked at this idea, wondering what it would be like to jump out a window that high.
