Wraith, Winter Court Changeling
Status: Approved
Mod Notes: Standard changeling stamp as a reminder that with all changelings, the more they use the power from the fae side of their heritage, the more they are moving themselves toward making the Choice to become wholly fae.
Player Name: Mish
Player LJ: noblesseoblige
Player Email: mish_S_mail@yahoo.com
AIM/YIM/etc.: blueyedmatador (AIM)
Character Name: Wraith
Character Type: Changeling/Winter Court Fae
Abilities:
Pre Change: Heightened agility, speed, strength and healing. The ability to change her short black claws into long black claws (about eight inches in length)
Post Change: Calling shadows and darkness even where none exist.
Age: 19
Kinsey Rating: Genuinely Asexual
Physical Appearance:
Wraith is a decent height at 5'7" but incredibly slender at only 105 pounds. Don't think her to be frail, that slenderness is all muscle and tendon. Her skin is chalk white with unhealthy bruise deep shadows around her eyes and cheekbones. Those same shadows highlight the dirty platinum of her hair and sometimes linger around her in places that that shadows shouldn't be. Her eyes are a pale gray, like looking at color from behind a block of ice. There are no scars or tattoos or marks on her body.
When startled, angry, hurt or violent, her fingers lengthen to long black claws, her pupils slit and dilate and veins begin to run black. It's very much a giveaway to the Winter Court origins of her blood. Wraith is not terribly hygienic and will generally walk around with dried blood on appendages and clothes, though she will bathe often enough that no one can scent track her. She isn't fond of shoes and if given the chance will strip down to her underwear and a t-shirt. Even in public.
PB: Miryam Sater
Personality:
She is almost more animal than person and quite alien in the human world. Literally, the only emotions she is capable of feeling are those of anger, hatred and violence. Wraith likes to hurt others, especially humans and those she considers weaker of personality. She enjoys others being afraid of her, or at the very least intimidated. One of her favorite pastimes is searching out Merrilee and attempting to frighten or harm her, harkening back to the club and how the little green girl was so well behaved and didn't try to fight. When faced with humans who look like those who used her at the club, she will fly into a fit of rage and attempt to kill them in the most bloody and painful way possible.
Occasionally, she'll calm enough to sit at a piano and pick out a complicated piece seemingly from nowhere- then grow bored and search for something else to do. This is the one hint of her former life that Wraith retains- she is a world class pianist, able to play very difficult pieces from memory, able to hear a tune and repeat it note for note. But none of this matters to her and is nothing she would say she likes or prefers to do.
She isn't unintelligent, before all of this she was quite smart. But she's learned that kind of smart isn't useful in this kind of world. She considers herself a predator that won't be caught again. Wraith doesn't fear death and knows that she will not be taken again, that it would be anyone who challenges her who suffers.
There are places that she will linger in and almost haunt, dead areas in the woods or parks, allies and under bridges. She doesn't feel one way or another about most things and does as she pleases, rather uncaring of any sort of reprimand or consideration of others.
History/Background:
RP Sample:
He'd caught her eye as she passed through the dark on her way to a park near the river. There was something about the set of his shoulders, the color of his hair that reminded Wraith of a particular client. He wasn't more or less cruel as the others, but it incensed her. She wanted to tear him apart and eat his insides while he watched and screamed and begged- but she had restraint now. No no, she would not attack him outright.
So she followed, enjoying the stretch of limbs in keeping up with him, freezing in doorways or alcoves when needbe. She'd laugh if it wasn't so deadly serious. A hummed tune buzzed low in her throat, something she couldn't name if asked. As the streets grew progressively emptier, the night darker, Wraith cut ahead of him, sliding through an alley that cut between two blocks.
And waited.
Bringing dirty claws to her lips, she licked at the points, uncaring of the pricks of blood drawn from her tongue and healed, the coppery tang only excited her wait. And there he was. Nearer. Nearer.
As he passed the mouth of the alley, she reached out, claws snaring in his coat, hefting him towards her and into the deeper shadows of the alley, beside dumpster with spoiled refuse. He cried out, then again as he hit the dirty cement. But she was on him, straddling his chest with pale legs stained in shadows and blood.
"Shh, shhh," She consoled, stroking his cheeks with the tips of her claws as he tried futilely to restrain her wrists and buck her off. "You look so afraid. Aren't you happy to see me again? No no. There are no chains. I am the master." She pressed her face near his, sniffing audibly even as he said things that she didn't ear. "You smell like fear. It makes me hungry."
He was shouting, yelling, so she cut his throat and the silence rushed back. The eyes she allowed him to keep for now, so he could watch as she opened his stomach and pulled his innards out. Her teeth were sharp flashes of white in the darkness, biting, tearing, until he saw and felt no more. She liked the taste of certain organs far better than others and avoided the colon and small intestines almost out of instinct. As she finished eating, she began humming again, carefully extracting his eyes to give to Merrilee.
And hoped the girl enjoyed her present.
Mod Notes: Standard changeling stamp as a reminder that with all changelings, the more they use the power from the fae side of their heritage, the more they are moving themselves toward making the Choice to become wholly fae.
Player Name: Mish
Player LJ: noblesseoblige
Player Email: mish_S_mail@yahoo.com
AIM/YIM/etc.: blueyedmatador (AIM)
Character Name: Wraith
Character Type: Changeling/Winter Court Fae
Abilities:
Pre Change: Heightened agility, speed, strength and healing. The ability to change her short black claws into long black claws (about eight inches in length)
Post Change: Calling shadows and darkness even where none exist.
Age: 19
Kinsey Rating: Genuinely Asexual
Physical Appearance:
Wraith is a decent height at 5'7" but incredibly slender at only 105 pounds. Don't think her to be frail, that slenderness is all muscle and tendon. Her skin is chalk white with unhealthy bruise deep shadows around her eyes and cheekbones. Those same shadows highlight the dirty platinum of her hair and sometimes linger around her in places that that shadows shouldn't be. Her eyes are a pale gray, like looking at color from behind a block of ice. There are no scars or tattoos or marks on her body.
When startled, angry, hurt or violent, her fingers lengthen to long black claws, her pupils slit and dilate and veins begin to run black. It's very much a giveaway to the Winter Court origins of her blood. Wraith is not terribly hygienic and will generally walk around with dried blood on appendages and clothes, though she will bathe often enough that no one can scent track her. She isn't fond of shoes and if given the chance will strip down to her underwear and a t-shirt. Even in public.
PB: Miryam Sater
Personality:
She is almost more animal than person and quite alien in the human world. Literally, the only emotions she is capable of feeling are those of anger, hatred and violence. Wraith likes to hurt others, especially humans and those she considers weaker of personality. She enjoys others being afraid of her, or at the very least intimidated. One of her favorite pastimes is searching out Merrilee and attempting to frighten or harm her, harkening back to the club and how the little green girl was so well behaved and didn't try to fight. When faced with humans who look like those who used her at the club, she will fly into a fit of rage and attempt to kill them in the most bloody and painful way possible.
Occasionally, she'll calm enough to sit at a piano and pick out a complicated piece seemingly from nowhere- then grow bored and search for something else to do. This is the one hint of her former life that Wraith retains- she is a world class pianist, able to play very difficult pieces from memory, able to hear a tune and repeat it note for note. But none of this matters to her and is nothing she would say she likes or prefers to do.
She isn't unintelligent, before all of this she was quite smart. But she's learned that kind of smart isn't useful in this kind of world. She considers herself a predator that won't be caught again. Wraith doesn't fear death and knows that she will not be taken again, that it would be anyone who challenges her who suffers.
There are places that she will linger in and almost haunt, dead areas in the woods or parks, allies and under bridges. She doesn't feel one way or another about most things and does as she pleases, rather uncaring of any sort of reprimand or consideration of others.
History/Background:
Pre- House of Morpheus: Wraith remembers very little from before, only the red fiberglass of a car, the sound of metal crunching and tires squealing, then pain and a gun. What she does not remember is her Winter Court mother, a woman resembling Wraith, who lived in both worlds, the fae and the human. Her father was a human, the CEO of a pharmaceuticals company obsessed with wealth and power, greatly enjoying the exotic fae woman on his arm and in his bed. He was quite pleased that his daughter shared the exotic looks of her mother, and surprised at her abilities with the piano.
Wraith attended a private boarding school during the spring and fall sessions, spending her summers and winters at home or on vacations to interesting locals. She was obviously not unaware of her fae heritage, but utterly uninterested in anything outside of her life of luxury and future fame in the musical world.
She was taken at the age of sixteen on the way home from a particularly fruitful shopping trip, driving down a long highway in her shiny new, red convertible. They ran her off the road, likely causing some organic brain damage. Her identification burned in the car and due to her appearance and her violent nature, was named Wraith at the club.
House of Morpheus: They tried to indoctrinate her, tried to train her. It was like bathing a feral cat. A lot of effort for no results and much pain. They attempted to let her dominate others. She'd eaten most of the vampire by the time the handlers were able to contain her. Though she was not without a following. Clients who enjoyed hurting, extreme dominance and the like favored Wraith. It was also at the HoM that she met Merrilee. A little green creature that told Wraith to stop fighting, to give in and be a Good Girl and they wouldn't hurt her so much.
This advice incensed her. She attempted to gut Merrilee then and there and even after they were rescued managed to bleed the girl and haunt her every step.
Post House of Morpheus: She was taken in by the Master of Oklahoma City for a time, but left to follow Merrilee to San Francisco. Her parents found out about her, though after learning of her damaged state, decided to let her be. There is a trust set up for her through a corporate law office in San Francisco, handled by an older and supernaturally experienced lawyer. Wraith ignores this and lives mostly in parks and under bridges, luring homeless street children to her to eat and dispose of the remains in the Nevernever.
Wraith attended a private boarding school during the spring and fall sessions, spending her summers and winters at home or on vacations to interesting locals. She was obviously not unaware of her fae heritage, but utterly uninterested in anything outside of her life of luxury and future fame in the musical world.
She was taken at the age of sixteen on the way home from a particularly fruitful shopping trip, driving down a long highway in her shiny new, red convertible. They ran her off the road, likely causing some organic brain damage. Her identification burned in the car and due to her appearance and her violent nature, was named Wraith at the club.
House of Morpheus: They tried to indoctrinate her, tried to train her. It was like bathing a feral cat. A lot of effort for no results and much pain. They attempted to let her dominate others. She'd eaten most of the vampire by the time the handlers were able to contain her. Though she was not without a following. Clients who enjoyed hurting, extreme dominance and the like favored Wraith. It was also at the HoM that she met Merrilee. A little green creature that told Wraith to stop fighting, to give in and be a Good Girl and they wouldn't hurt her so much.
This advice incensed her. She attempted to gut Merrilee then and there and even after they were rescued managed to bleed the girl and haunt her every step.
Post House of Morpheus: She was taken in by the Master of Oklahoma City for a time, but left to follow Merrilee to San Francisco. Her parents found out about her, though after learning of her damaged state, decided to let her be. There is a trust set up for her through a corporate law office in San Francisco, handled by an older and supernaturally experienced lawyer. Wraith ignores this and lives mostly in parks and under bridges, luring homeless street children to her to eat and dispose of the remains in the Nevernever.
RP Sample:
He'd caught her eye as she passed through the dark on her way to a park near the river. There was something about the set of his shoulders, the color of his hair that reminded Wraith of a particular client. He wasn't more or less cruel as the others, but it incensed her. She wanted to tear him apart and eat his insides while he watched and screamed and begged- but she had restraint now. No no, she would not attack him outright.
So she followed, enjoying the stretch of limbs in keeping up with him, freezing in doorways or alcoves when needbe. She'd laugh if it wasn't so deadly serious. A hummed tune buzzed low in her throat, something she couldn't name if asked. As the streets grew progressively emptier, the night darker, Wraith cut ahead of him, sliding through an alley that cut between two blocks.
And waited.
Bringing dirty claws to her lips, she licked at the points, uncaring of the pricks of blood drawn from her tongue and healed, the coppery tang only excited her wait. And there he was. Nearer. Nearer.
As he passed the mouth of the alley, she reached out, claws snaring in his coat, hefting him towards her and into the deeper shadows of the alley, beside dumpster with spoiled refuse. He cried out, then again as he hit the dirty cement. But she was on him, straddling his chest with pale legs stained in shadows and blood.
"Shh, shhh," She consoled, stroking his cheeks with the tips of her claws as he tried futilely to restrain her wrists and buck her off. "You look so afraid. Aren't you happy to see me again? No no. There are no chains. I am the master." She pressed her face near his, sniffing audibly even as he said things that she didn't ear. "You smell like fear. It makes me hungry."
He was shouting, yelling, so she cut his throat and the silence rushed back. The eyes she allowed him to keep for now, so he could watch as she opened his stomach and pulled his innards out. Her teeth were sharp flashes of white in the darkness, biting, tearing, until he saw and felt no more. She liked the taste of certain organs far better than others and avoided the colon and small intestines almost out of instinct. As she finished eating, she began humming again, carefully extracting his eyes to give to Merrilee.
And hoped the girl enjoyed her present.