Isi Runasimi
Administrator Vampire
Catch my bullets if you can, oh wait, dodge, dodge if you can.
Posts: 4,088
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Post by Isi Runasimi on Oct 13, 2008 12:45:56 GMT -5
Here you go. Constance
is now entering it's all in yer mind
 About You;;
behind the RPer Name:
Age:22
Years of Rping: 9
Contact:
ID Tag;;
Alias: Constance
Name: Constance Rose Marie Blacke
Gender: Female
Orientation: Bisexual
Real Age: 298
Physical Age: 20
Species: Vampire
Sire: A Dead Man... No need for specifics.
Religious Affiliation: Christian [Mikelo--please ask]
Wealth: Whatever I take... (she's very well off)
Job: Professional stage actress, opera singer coloratura soprano
Dear Diary
Specialties:
1. Spontaniety/Unpredictability
2. Extreme violence
3. Strong Pheromone control
4. Mind games
5. Vocalist
Summary:
What all can we say about the madness that has been deemed Constance? She has many capabilities, her best attribute being the ability to be a variable. She is the essence of unpredictable nature. She's excellent in the art of torture and dissection.
She is extremely resourceful, known to turn what is originally a prop into an actual deliverer of death. She's known to make things quick and sweet and enjoys leaving trails behind. Fear is not very prominent in this mad woman. In fact, she inspires it in many and takes pride in her "work".
She loves and craves attention and keeping it is a must, no matter who it might be... or what, thus leaving pheromones constantly running on high. She loves what she has deemed The Forbidden Acts (sex) and is always willing to show her affection in the best ways she knows how.
She is known for her intricate ways around others, especially strangers and enemies. She loves to play mind games and control the minds of those who fall prey to her charms.
Weakness:
1. Sadness
2. Lust
3. Jealousy
Summary: Sadness is for the weak of mind and heart and will hinder the Red Lady should she descend into the darkness that is her world. Happiness is what makes her world go round and if she has none, she will resort to inflicting pain upon herself to make her mind settle elsewhere. Lust: it is her biggest downfall as she often falls prey to her own needs. Constance is a jealous lover and she is known to massacre the few, the proud AND the free to keep her 'sugar' to herself. And with looks like hers, and such powerful pheromones, she inspires hate, greed and lust in many--often causing pandemonium in the world of Cupid and Aphrodite. Man or woman, if she feels it, she must have them and will do anything she has to in order to achieve her goals of love.
Appearance;;
Hair: Pale blond
Eyes: Ice blue
Height: 5'6"
Marks: A black tattoo of a bat and spiderwebs, beneath it reads "VampiBytch"
Race: I have no true race
Skin Tone: Pale, milky
Body Type: Slender and curvaceous
Clothing Style: Clothes that complement her figure "I fancy lace and corsettes..."
Footwear: Stilettos, Thigh high boots, hooker boots [as long as it's sexy, she will wear them]
Summary: Her beauty stands still with time, it seems, since she was kissed. Her long, pale blond hair tumbles down her back in soft curls, a small ringlet teasing the small of her back. Long, dark lashes bring out the blue of her eyes, enhancing their ethereal glow. Icy blue marbles glitter with mischief, struggling to hide the sadness that plagues her. Soft pink flecks surround the onxy core. Her skin is pale and milky, and she'll drink plenty to add a soft pink tint to her cheeks to add to her dramatically angelic looks.
She fancies lace and heels, oft times combining the two elements with the help of other tight, form fitting articles of clothing to show off her sinuously curvaceous form. The Red Lady favors a bright red coat taken from the Mayor of God only knows, but she roused the Red Lady's ire and paid a price she couldn't afford. Constance loves jewelry but she favors only a few pieces; one being a beutiful ring with dark red gems, surrounded by tiny diamonds given to her by a love she misses more than anything.
The rest consist of chokers, rings, occasional bangles and her favorites: human hearts, long since preserved by time... and heavy varnishing, held on her delicate wrists by small, golden chains.
Personality;;
Likes:
1. The Love of Her Undead Life
2. Men
3. Sex
4. ...randomness, I suppose.... There are so many!
5. Children!
6. Fairy Tales
Dislikes:
1. Sadness
2. High-and-mighty individuals who believe they are better than everyone
3. Most women
4. Those who interfere in a spree.
5. Pessimistic individuals
6. Children~~~
Flaws:
1. Kindness to lycans
2. Carefree spirit
3. Maddened by time and circumstance
Summary:
She is both the world of light and dark, there is no true in between. An extremity by nature, she is playful, flirtatious, and can be utterly insane. Constance believes in being polite and showing utmost respect, even when telling one to go and drown themselves in the River Thames. She can't imagine life after life without being surrounded by a crowd, nor can she go without entertaining herself or them.. at someone else's expense.
She is a free spirit and does not believe in holding her tongue when it comes to righting what is obviously wrong. To her, the world is theirs to haunt and she does so with a smile on her face. Good friends know of her need to share abstract thoughts. She loves to sing, her favorite places usually being bathed in moonlight or rain. With her playful personality, she can either befriend others quickly--which is usually for the best. Or, she can close herself off and be nothing short of a nuisance, a unmerciful killer, a Tormentor of all things living or worse. Having been taught as a child not to play with her food, she will often be seen doing it anyway. She enjoys collecting hearts and keeps them close when she feels the need, and to the horror of many, this can be taken in a literal sense.
She enjoys being close to men and women as both are naturally attractive to her. She won't hesitate to let someone in and let them know they are welcome in her personalized way. Stays are nearly unlimited in her 'happy abode', where ever that may be. Constance will do her utmost to keep her loved ones and friends happy and do whatever it takes to keep them safe. Do know that should one be welcomed into her happy home, there will be lots of treats, treats of all shapes and sizes and they are more than welcome to it. "Spoils for the spoiled", is one of her favorite lines. She lives by it.
Beware the sadness that reaps the tides of her happiness. Having had the one object of true beauty stolen from her, she is apt to go on killing sprees, bathing the blood of millions to sooth her chaotic and torn soul. She is sometimes blinded by her own anger and often cannot tell friend from foe when she has lost sight of her happy nature. She becomes incredibly unmerciful and violent, short of fuse and rash in decision making. She lacks the strength to care when she grieves over her beloved Mikelo. It is best to keep her smiling a she would do the same for many others.
Update: She is often seen in the company of a dark stranger, oft times causing trouble and feasting on the living... or playing with a kill. He is the only one truly capable of restraining her... but even he has his limits.
Background Check;;
Family Members:
Vincent Baron Blacke ~ Father ~ Deceased
Amelia Vanna Blacke ~ Mother ~ Deceased
Birth Place: France
Childhood: I remember plenty... and it breaks me. Can't we just forget..?
Transformation: A dead man did this to me...
Prey: I feed from anyone with a fresh stream of warm, lightly sweetened blood... Or I could always kill cattle, if you wish to resist..?
Fang Power: An unfortunate victim to The Dead Man left Constance with a bite that could make any man hesitant to kiss her. The venom in her fangs cause her victims to give up the ghost, so to speak, and simply causes what any coronor would consider an unatural contradiction: the heart of her victim picks up speed whilst the blood thickens and quietly kills them. "I always did have a thing for thick, sweet milkshakes with a touch of caramel..."
Other Transformation: Constance is a cruel mistress. Over the time she's spent wandering on her own, she chose to face her past and experiment with the very thing she gave her very first beloved, causing him to descend into utter madness: UnLife. She's known for tormenting her victims, just a knick of her fangs, piercing any vein... She bleeds them out like one would a cow, making sure to drink some of what flows from the veins. Just as the very last breath of life leaves their trembling lips, she'll split her lips and kiss them, feeding them their own poisoned blood--especially if they beg her for mercy--to let them live.
History:
I will never forget my turning. I was but a child, then.
Once upon a time, it was so long ago.
Well, the long ago part is right. I'm an old lady who’s gone batty in her years. I'd have to say I must have been about 23 when it happened. I was happy and I was working to become an actress, an opera singer so I could become famous. I wanted to be above the Queen Marie Leszczyñska. I wanted to be noticed by the King… I was most certainly a lovelier woman than she. And mother was often requested to sing to her a requiem… I only wanted to be like her. And now I regret being so vain and making these silly little wishes upon the first star I saw every evening..
They always told me that if I was going to do anything good with my life, be sure I had a future secured for my children, that I married a Lord of some sort. I had plenty of offers but Father liked to Haggle his way into good graces and he was not about to give me up. I was happily secure. What more could I ask for than to become as sought after as my parents? I was also told to be good and do what good girls were supposed to do. To be a Child of God in a most God fearing time… You can guess that, back then, the Forbidden Acts were just what they were. Forbidden. I was also forbidden to have a male friend or be friends with girls who weren't virgins. I always did think father was so silly… Virgins were rare and kept silent. But in France, who could remain but for so long?
The night was young on a summer day, as I gazed up at the stars, I wished upon Venus. Mother had been gone to see to lulling the King and his court. Father had gone to make friends with the royalty. And I wished I could be loved forever by everyone. I wished I could be beautiful forever. I wished I could perform on stage, perform the Forbidden Acts. I had done it once at 17 but father caught me and turned the young stallion of a man into a gelding... But let's not get off track here. After making my wishes, I prayed to a God. You see, I thought there were more than one since the priest always said things like "Father, God, Our Heavenly Host." I suppose he heard me because when I went to sleep, for I’d been requested that very evening to replace my mother who had fallen ill.
The servants dressed me in my finest attire: a dark blue dress, nearly black with light blue lace going over the bodice which stopped just as my breasts peeked over. This gown had been made specifically to grab the attentions of gentlemen at court… And I loved it. I gathered up my train to avoid having the maids step on it as they powdered me lightly, not that I needed much in the first place. They tinted my lips the prettiest pink not even the Queen had the opportunity to get her hands on… and, completing their task of perfuming me heavily with the dusk of a rose, they whisked me away to Versailles.
I was told by many that my voice had gone above and beyond my mother’s… I was told I was of breathtaking beauty. I was told I had, indeed, taken away many a breath as I sang with the nightingales in my mind… Such gorgeous little birds, singing for their true loves… There is no other like it. At the King’s askance, I sat and spoke with him, thrilled that anyone so high up had finally come to notice me. And the Queen… how he ignored her! And his little whore, too… I loved every moment of it, of the attention I’d gotten… But I also loved the attention I received that same night from a beautifully handsome stranger.
I would not sleep alone that night…
Donovan was as handsome a man as anyone could ask for. He'd come to me like Romeo to his Juliet, and told me wonderful things any girl would die to hear. I remember him holding me against his tight, cold body, figuring the night air had chilled him since he’d come all this way, wherever he hailed from, just for me… So I let him stay. I felt bad... I felt *really* bad.
"What's your name?" I asked him as he began to kiss my neck.
"It’s Donovan. But please, call me Van. I must have you, Constance…” He whispered.
"What are you doing here? The servants will come running. Surely you have lost your mind, M’lord?" I asked him. I'd already slid my legs around him to make sure he wouldn't leave.
"Trust me, mine Lady… I heard you. I suppose God sent me to make sure your wishes came true."
"Really? Oh, thank you, God! I cried as I gave Van a playful squeeze, my eyes misting over at such a miracle… But I had to know this wasn’t a dream. "Van, will you stay forever?"
"Forever and ever, Darling..." He whispered as he tore away his pants...
I really don't think you'd like to hear the details of our Forbidden Dance but I loved every moment of it... But I'd never see daylight after that night of shared blood and passion. I'd never see my parents ever again. Well, that's a lie. I did see them again. The sheer fact that I could never approach them during the day or go on a family outing, a luncheon, with them was enough to make my mother cry and make my father shun me.
They knew what I had become and, being religious people, prayed a prayer to rid themselves of me. They never wanted to hear from me again, though my last visit caused my father to become so frightened, he had a heart attack and died. All I could do was cry. My mother died of a bitter broken heart.
But watching them grow old and die was worse than never being able see my Donovan again. I hated him for taking advantage of me that night. He did leave, yes. And he did give me what I'd wished for. Since then I've had this unquenchable thirst and an unrequited lust. I can't stop thinking about it. I can't seem to keep my hands to myself. And this would come to consume what little sanity I had left… Over the years, I’d come to harness my power. I had a companion in death, and although he was a lycan, he stood by me. We went through so much together… And what was better on our part but worse all the same.. we knew nothing of this endless hatred between the basic races.
I found solace in Lumiere whose gentlemanly antics kept a smile on my face. He would always be there for me, getting me into hiding just before sunlight, bringing me food when I was much too afraid to go and get it myself. To murder a man was so exhilarating, yet it was so terse and frightening. It always reminded me of Donovan and my parents. For forty years, I would live in shy torment beneath the shadow of my protective wolf-man warrior. Until I came across a family… I haunted a man of God for near thirty years before he turned me away and would have nothing to do with me… But his son… Oh, how beautiful he was.
O’, Mikelo…
So beautiful and pure. So tall and frail, and yet so brave and strong beneath the shy exterior, your armor from God. I came to Mikelo, when he would preach for the night service. He would watch over the small chapel his father held Mass in, welcoming those in need of shelter, in need of a helpful spirit, a guiding hand. His dark hair came down to his jaw in tender curls and his hazel eyes held nothing but devotion and conviction in all things he did. Lumiere would simply look out for me when things got out of hand..
\I need not tell you that Mikelo came with me and was cast away from his home. But, in his sadness, he would pray a prayer for his family and the two of us. He would even pray for Lumiere though he needed none, for he’d often whisper to the Lord when he thought no one was watching. Eventually, I grew weary of watching my beloved age with his inner loneliness and, after an hour of fervent love making, I offered him a sip from my Dish.
“Mikelo… will you be with me?”
“I already am, Constance…” He said, holding me close. I listened to his heartbeat.
“No, Mikelo… You are not. I cannot bear this life without you in it. I love you so!”
“I love you, Constance! I will always be with you! I have left everyone and everything I have ever loved! You are the greatest pleasure and the worst pain… that my heart has ever known, Constance. You are the extremities of a world gone mad! And yet… And yet I can not leave you.” He said, his eyes boring into mine, that conviction hardening his features, the tears coming down his face.. and mine.
“Then will you be with me? Be with me forever??”
“Constance, I want to lie with you in death…”
“Til death do we part…” I whispered, overjoyed as I cried softly.
“Death will never part us…” And so my fangs knew him..
How I ache to hear those words again… How I ache for those words to hold truth and absolution!
My tongue tasted him, relished in the sweetest essence of man I have ever known. I had never done anything like this before… Mikelo thrashed beneath me, his arms not sure whether to crush me or push me away. I felt his life begin to fade into nothing, his heart beating faster as he struggled to live… and when I pulled away, Mikelo was barely alive. To my horror, my Mikelo was dying! I’d made worm’s meat out of him! I never meant to hurt him so badly… I just wanted to make my mark, for him to swear fealty to me… other vampires or lycans would never hurt him and we would be together… All this, I thought of as I watched his eyes begin to roll behind his fluttering eyelids.
And then I cut my wrist… and he was lost.
He was a vampire. But his mind was lost. The rest abandoned him upon the accidental death of his father.
…This is all I can remember of my Mikelo… I saw him grab something and then there was darkness… I was in the basement of the church, covered by Lumiere’s coat. My heart panicked. I could hear glass shatter above me, hear a scuffle of some sort and then a scream… I smelled smoke and tried my best to get above ground but Lumiere had locked me in. I could not escape this darkness… When he returned to me, his face wet and his clothing burnt, he took me in his arms. I knew then that my Mikelo was never coming back.. The crucifix in Lumiere’s hand fell to the floor and I felt my spirit break, my mind going numb and cried until I fell asleep…
It was so long ago, yet the memory plays over and over in my mind. I don’t know what happened to my Beautiful Mikelo. Lumiere never did tell me. Had the townspeople come and killed him? Something happened.. but I knew he was gone! I could not sense him! All I can do is cry… What happened to you, Mikelo?!
I can't stop *playing* with my food before I actually devour it. I can't stop being happy because when I'm sad, I relive the painful memories. Sex helps me to forget... either that or the physical pain of cutting my arms and watching them heal again. I need to forget. This was all just a script. An act to be written, performed, and burned.
These nights are not so lonesome... I suppose God finally decided it was time to give me some peace--even if it isn't peace of mind. I don't suppose I'll ever have that. I know Mikelo's Heavenly Father isn't that kind, not to a vagabond like me. The world isn't such a bad place to dwell--certainly not with Eric. He's more than I could ask for. It's been a few years... we've had our ups, lots of them... and only a few downs--one in particular that had better not return.
I find that my kindness is limited by my curiosity of different people, things... creatures like Us. When you have nothing but time, what do you do with it? I play. I have fun... I live but it's not often that I let live. What fun would that be? I have a fondness for children. Such delicate little Cherubs with their stubby little fingers and their fat, rosy cheeks. How their eyes widen and glow when the Tooth Fairy comes to visit... How their faces contort in horror.
So [glow=green,2,300]innocent[/glow]...
I love the Church. I find myself marvelled by the sinners and devout believers. At the end of the day, they all do the same thing--they still sin. They still fuck... and suck... and kill... and steal. They still cry... and scream... and bleed. It never changes.
I don't see much of Lumiere anymore, though I find that I am not lacking. I don't want or need anything else. Eric is all I need to get by. To help me to forget the horrors of my first sins...
I wish I could have shown you my life through my eyes. But it's all the past now. We must live for the present. So, let us act out as we shall. Let us be loved. Let us be felt. Let us be known. This world is ours to Haunt… And I do so with a smile on my face.
Code Word:
muffinsrc00l
Mad Skills;;
The night was cool and silent, the stars glinting overhead as if they were the eyes of angels winking down at those who bothered to take a look at them this night. The moon was hidden behind a passing reef of clouds... and the eyes of a killer reflected what little light caught them. The ice blue incandescence surrounded a dark core and narrowed.
The bark of the oak scraped her silken palms as she shifted, legs crossed tightly so that ankle kissed ankle. The watcher canted her head, soft whispers of pale blond hair flowing in the wind, catching the light of the moon as it peeked from behind its would-be cover. The milky skin caught the iridescence of the lonesome moon...
A dog whimpered in someone's backyard, its collar jingling as it walked back and forth, deficated, and rushed back into the makeshift shelter with the name "FIDEL" painted atop its roof. A family of robins abandoned their nest and roosted beneath the panelling of someone else's home. A cat crouched just below, slinking off into the darkness the moment the Watcher noticed it.
The crickets ceased to sing their requiem to the moon above. A beggar rummaged through the readied trashcans, collecting the bottles and cans, some paper to layer over the cardboard boxes and the bumpy sidewalks, wherever he chose to sleep. A tri-pawed Collie followed close behind him, its ears back, its tail between its legs and whimpered.
"What's wrong with you, Gideon?" The beggar asked his companion, wiping away sweat with the back of his gloved hand. The dog merely barked, earning an immediate hush from his Master... and the beggar turned away to continue his work. "Boy, it feels lah'ke God is watch'in me." The dog whimpered once to contest him, having spotted The Watcher. "God is a-watch'in~~~" He sang... The dog turned back to look at the Watcher...
The beggar stopped to look down at Gideon, his ears perking as he listened to the flutter of wings--the robins had returned to the nest. "By Gahd, Gideon... He really is watchin'. Robins don't fly this late at night...." Turning back to the next trash can, he gasped in shock as a small, furry figure dug its claws into his chest, shaking. The dog whimpered and howled... The beggar screamed in surprise... And was overwhelmed with joy at the finding of a tiny kitten clinging to him for dear life.
"Well, lookie here, Giddie." He said, his calloused fingers warking the claws from his sweatshirt. "A kitty----"
It was as if he was a kid again, amidst the playing field of a family reunion, waterballoon having burst in his hands, warm water all over his chest and arms just before he could throw it. His eyes widened in horror, drying, reddened, pupils dilated in absolute fear as handfuls of flesh and innards twitched, the body not yet realizing it had, indeed been slaughtered.
The soft click of heels held the beggar's attention, piss forming its dark mark in the only pair of pants he had, his companion long gone, racing down the street and scratching at every door he could.
The Watcher walked away, petting the newly stolen fur from the tiny kitten, her lips curving devilishly as she began to skip and hum, her hair bouncing and catching the brilliant light of the moon as she rejoiced. "It is perfect! The final shred of lining for my scrapbook!"
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