Posts by Void.

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; text-align: center; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 28pt;color: COLOR; opacity: 0.65; letter-spacing: 2px]( NAME HERE )[/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; height: 200px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 8pt; opacity: 0.85; letter-spacing: 1px]Esther had never thought much of her hair. There was, however, one exception. From the snot-crusted days of toddlerhood, when she'd been hardly old enough to speak let alone make appearance-altering decisions, she had obstinately refused to allow it to grow an inch past her shoulders. She never bothered running a brush through the dark ginger curls, never seemed to notice or care that, over the years, they had absorbed a life of their own.

And now, stepping into her first period class with the fiery coils dancing into her face, she couldn't help but think that it was about time for another haircut.

It was the first day back after those three liberating months, known fondly by all as summer vacation. She figured that meant there was no shortage of new kids wandering the hallways of Eden Ridge High School, so her presence drew a predictable amount of attention... In other words, zip. It was because she knew nobody, and nobody approached her, that the only thing she could bother to think about was her hair. But even that evaded her mind as she read the words, scribbled in what appeared some kind of mad haste, across the board.

"Welcome to Ms. Harp's AP World History course! The seat you choose will be yours for the semester, so choose wisely. Syllabuses and supply lists are stacked the front table. Take one of each as you come in."

The teacher herself was nowhere to be found.

Already, one or two students had claimed seats towards the back of the room. As she picked up the papers from the front table, she decided to take a seat on the far edge of the room, directly beside the door that led outside. It was with a quiet, relieved sigh that she sunk into her desk.

Fifteen minutes until the bell rang. That meant she had plenty of time to mentally prepare herself before the day really kicked off.

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; margin-top: -10px; text-align: center; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 20pt;color: red; opacity: 0.65; letter-spacing: -1px]VICTORIANA WRAY[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; margin-top: -10px; height: 250px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 8pt; opacity: 0.85; letter-spacing: 1px]OOC:
To sum things up, my character is a vampire and yours, a werewolf. Your character's pack has always despised the Wray vampires, and the Wray's have despised them in turn. They've been at each other's throats since before even Victoriana became a vampire. When it so happens that your character, a member of the local pack, defends Victoriana against one of his pack mates, things get interesting. He takes an interest in her, and it's suddenly as it she can't shake him off. They become quick friends, much to Victoriana's own resignation. And then... Your character eventually reveals that he has feelings for her, creating more issues than it could ever solve.

HERE and HERE are pictures of her.

IC:
Victoriana would never, in her infinite years of life, understand feuds. That didn't mean she wouldn't defend her family tooth and nail- or fang and nail, if you will-, but the entire thing looked pretty silly when it was dissected.

Her little coven, an unrelated family of five known as the Wray's, were long in dispute against the local werewolf pack, a group of "scoundrels" residing on a nearby reserve. They were always on each other's throats, but there had only been one or two incidents over the past few years where any of them had really butted heads.

Today, she was the only member of her family to go to school. It wasn't uncommon for her "siblings" to call out sick. In fact, over the years, they had come up with many a unique excuse for their inexplicable absences. In truth, Victoriana was the worst offender. She had considered calling it cutsies today, but had decided against it when she heard that the rest of the family would be going out hunting together.

The unfortunately short vampire slipped into the school. Before even walking through the doors, she'd picked up the scent of those irritating wolf boys from somewhere nearby. She didn't have any personal issues with any of them, but it was in her best interest to avoid them all together. For this reason, she lowered her head so that her short, silken curls formed a curtain around her pale face as she hurried through the hall.

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; margin-top: -10px; text-align: center; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 20pt;color: red; opacity: 0.65; letter-spacing: -1px]VICTORIANA WRAY[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; margin-top: -10px; height: 250px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 8pt; opacity: 0.85; letter-spacing: 1px]Victoriana winced. Ah, damn. Voices and scents clattered around in her head, particularly the voice of a pack member she had always regarded as neutral. Some kid names Damien- No real harm to she or her family. That didn't mean she was all too keen on inching down the hallway as she was, right past the overpowering smell of wolf that, over the years, she had more or less grown accustomed to. Her amber-brown eyes narrowed as she ventured to peek up through a thick curl...

And she was lucky enough to catch the cocky eye of a werewolf.

He was a large brute, standing several inches taller than herself with a head full of dark, messy hair. Not unattractive in appearance, but something in his face suggested that she was about to learn quite the contrary in his personality.

"Hey there, Mosquito. Where are those brothers and sisters of yours today, eh?" She froze mid-step, and stared incredulously back at him. She should have just kept walking. How easy it would have been for her to ignore him! But something kept her rooted in place.

The guy seemed encouraged when she stopped. His pale blue eyes lit up with frivolous excitement. "I'm sure they just got sick or something. After all, we all know how shitty you Wray's immune systems are." He stepped towards her, practically beaming now. "Utter crap, they are!"

Victoriana didn't know the exact moment she snapped, but when it happened, it seemed an utter transformation took place. She glowered, unblinking, back at this obnoxious wolf. "I would watch what you say, you disgusting dog. Just because they're not here today doesn't mean they won't be here tomorrow." She wasn't above vulgarity, but it wasn't often that a curse word found its way into her day to day vocabulary. An upper class child of the 1920's, she had been raised off of such words.

The boy seemed unfazed. He met her defiant stare with a chuckle and a condescending smirk. "And what'll they do then? That brother of your's gonna try and come at me again? I'd like to see him try."

At this point, one or two people had become captivated by the dispute and observed curiously from the sidelines. She clenched her jaw, and snorted. Trash talk had never been her specialty, but she was giving it her best go. "As if he would waste his time on an idiot like you. We've got better things to do with our time than pick stupid fights."

His eyes narrowed. Victoriana had only just noticed that, throughout the entirety of their little spat, he had been creeping closer to her every second. Now, he stood a mere foot before her and hunkered like a tower above her.

"Is that so?"

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; margin-top: -10px; text-align: center; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 20pt;color: red; opacity: 0.65; letter-spacing: -1px]VICTORIANA WRAY[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; margin-top: -10px; height: 250px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 8pt; opacity: 0.85; letter-spacing: 1px]OOC:
Ah, sorry about that! I should have been more specific!

IC:
Victoriana was glowering back at both werewolves now. The anger she felt spawned most prominently out of fear of the fact that she was alone. None of her family was there to back her, but something inside of her was pressing, urging her to put up a little bit more of a fight in spite of what the boy with striking blue eyes was gesturing for her to do.

If she had a morsel of sense, she would have listened to him right off the bat. Unfortunately, she had never been good at keeping her fool mouth shut.

"As if we don't do that every day. You fight me here, the only one getting in trouble is going to be you dog-breathed heathens." In light of her lifelong avoidance of curse words, Victoriana had developed many unusual alternatives- particularly towards werewolves. "Emil and Lyra wouldn't bat an eye if they found out I got into a fight. But your little... leader? Gotta play by the rules, mutts."

Then, and only then, did she pivot around on the slight inclination of her heels and flounce down the hallway.

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; margin-top: -10px; text-align: center; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 20pt;color: red; opacity: 0.65; letter-spacing: -1px]VICTORIANA WRAY[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; margin-top: -5px; height: 250px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 8pt; opacity: 0.85; letter-spacing: 1px]It occurred to Victoriana that she had gotten herself into a little bit of a... predicament. Of course, there was no taking back what had been said when she was pushed to the floor. Before she knew what was happening, she had been shoved to the cold, white tile floor, and there was a big, ugly fist waving around in her face.

As the realization of what she had done donned on her, there was a spark of fear in her face. It was so brief, however, that it might have been easily overlooked by the accumulating crowd of onlookers- werewolves and humans alike.

She contemplated something that she probably shouldn't have, but was oh so enticing given the situation. Had there not been any humans at the school, she could have wiped that cocky beast out in a heartbeat. She just knew it! Unfortunately, there were humans around and her only defense was in pepper spray (which she did not presently have on her) and spit. So she was glaring, gathering a mouthful of spit with which she would assault her attacker, when the weight was lifted off of her.

Her heart leaped in her chest, but she didn't waste a second scrambling to her feet. Pallid features appearing even more so than usual, her escape route was blocked by an impenetrable wall of onlookers. She was left with no other choice but to bare firsthand witness to the damage she had caused.

One of the boys, the one she recognized as Damien, had been landed a hard one straight in the jaw.

Her chest heaved for unnecessary breath. The idiot had rushed to her defense, and paid the price at once. Packmate against packmate. And what could Victoriana, who stood roughly 5'4" in her small heels, do without arousing suspicion?

Absolutely nothing. So it looked like she was about to have to make one hell of a mistake.

She charged forward, a bull in her own right, and grabbed the pugnacious one of the werewolves by the back of the collar of his shirt. Her grip was of steel; if he whipped around, he may as well have said "See ya!" to his shirt.

"Look, your buddy was right. We take this any further, then your pack and my family are going to end up involved." Her voice was scarcely more than a mutter, a courtesy taken so as to avoid the prying ears of the surrounding witnesses. "You just punched your own packmate in the face. If you wanna fight, I'll fight you right here and now. And I won't hold back. It's all on you, Wolf."

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; margin-top: -10px; text-align: center; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 20pt;color: red; opacity: 0.65; letter-spacing: -1px]VICTORIANA WRAY[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; margin-top: -5px; height: 250px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 8pt; opacity: 0.85; letter-spacing: 1px]Victoriana's eyes narrowed into honey-hued daggers. "It's not like the entire school hasn't already seen us," came her mutinous reply. She had a feeling that his order branched out more towards her family, to whom she confided in with everything.

She searched the wolf's eyes a moment, her own glowing with distrust. Mere seconds lightened the heaviness of her gaze, and left her appearing more irritated than anything. She slowly, stupidly nodded her agreement.

"Alright, yeah... Yeah, I won't tell anyone." She supposed she owed him at least that. After all, he was the one to cash the check that her impulsive mouth had written. Not only that, but, despite their differing views, they were both inhuman creatures. Surely, at the end of the day, that deemed them more alike than any of them were willing to admit?

She sighed and broke their intense stare so as to peer down at her blouse, a maroon piece that she busied her long fingers to straighten out.

"Thank you." Her mumble was so quiet that it may as well have been nonexistent, but if he misheard, she didn't give him the chance to request clarification. Instead, she backed away and detoured through the crowd of baffled witnesses.

Sounds good to me. What might Ryan be hiding?

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 400px; height: 350px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8pt; opacity: 0.75; letter-spacing: 1px]How about the one with the witch?

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 400px; height: 350px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8pt; opacity: 0.75; letter-spacing: 1px]I love those ideas! They sound perfect to me.

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 400px; height: 350px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8pt; opacity: 0.75; letter-spacing: 1px]Yeah, I like it.

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 400px; height: 350px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8pt; opacity: 0.75; letter-spacing: 1px]I don't think it would have much of an affect on her, to be honest. She's only recently getting to know him, but she does want to act as that big sister-like figure to him. Making up for lost time, you know? So it won't make much of a difference either way, because she wants to be a part of his life.

Also, I've made a change to Esther's history. She was born into immense wealth, and was a young flapper in the 1920's.

I hadn't even been thinking about that tbh. I recently read the Great Gatsby, and was like "lightbulb."

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; margin-top: -10px; text-align: center; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 20pt;color: red; opacity: 0.65; letter-spacing: -1px]VICTORIANA WRAY[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; margin-top: -5px; height: 250px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 8pt; opacity: 0.85; letter-spacing: 1px]First period went by in a blur. Victoriana was positively mutinous for the first half of class. She supposed she shouldn't have been. After all, it was she to provoke the dumb brute of a werewolf. But then it was he who had started with the petty trash talk. Her pencil tapped out a rapid, atactic rhythm on the desk's wooden surface. The PowerPoint projected across the whiteboard was nothing but chicken scratch through the cloud of fury eclipsing her stare.

Then she got to thinking about the other boy: Damien. And it seemed that the instant his image weaseled into her head, a switch was flipped on her morose demeanor. She straightened, and her eyes fell down to the blank sheet of notebook paper on the desk before her.

He could have easily joined in with his packmate and done a terrible number in rearranging her face. He could have, and anybody else would have, but he didn't. Whether it was because he didn't want to get in trouble, or that he actually sympathized with her, she couldn't have been certain. She sucked in one side of her cheek and began doodling along the margin of her paper.

She wished she could have talked to Elijah or even Sandra about what had happened, but then she remembered what she had told Damien. What was a promise worth keeping when it was to a stupid mutt, though? Oh, but he had helped her out. She owed him one, she supposed.

When the bell rang, she was the first out of her seat. She may not have been too welcome among the werewolves, but she wanted to speak with Damien. What she wanted to say, her mind was racing too fast for her to determine. Perhaps another "thank you" was in order.

She scuttled down the hallway, doe-like eyes sweeping the faces of innumerable students.

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 400px; height: 350px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8pt; opacity: 0.75; letter-spacing: 1px]Of course! That's perfectly fine! c:

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 400px; height: 350px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8pt; opacity: 0.75; letter-spacing: 1px]Zibby Allen makes a wonderful faceclaim. And that sounds awesome omg. Especially the zombies.

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 400px; height: 350px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8pt; opacity: 0.75; letter-spacing: 1px]Oh, nice!

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 350px; margin-top: -32px; text-align: center; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 28pt;color: #d10000; opacity: 0.85; letter-spacing: 2px]( ESTHER )[/fancypost]

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; height: 300px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 8pt; opacity: 0.85; letter-spacing: 1px]The Plot:

Esther had never thought much of her hair. There was, however, one exception. From the snot-crusted days of toddlerhood, when she'd been hardly old enough to speak let alone make appearance-altering decisions, she had obstinately refused to allow it to grow an inch past her shoulders. She never bothered running a brush through the dark ginger curls, never seemed to notice or care that, over the years, they had absorbed a life of their own.

And now, stepping into her first period class with the fiery coils dancing into her face, she couldn't help but think that it was about time for another haircut.

It was the first day back after those three liberating months, known fondly by all as summer vacation. She figured that meant there was no shortage of new kids wandering the hallways of Bastion High School, so her presence drew a predictable amount of attention... In other words, zip. It was because she knew nobody, and nobody approached her, that the only thing she could bother to think about was her hair. But even that evaded her mind as she read the words, scribbled in what appeared some kind of mad haste, across the board.

"Welcome to Ms. Harp's AP World History course! The seat you choose will be yours for the semester, so choose wisely. Syllabuses and supply lists are stacked the front table. Take one of each as you come in."

The teacher herself was nowhere to be found.

Already, one or two students had claimed seats towards the back of the room. As she picked up the papers from the front table, she decided to take a seat on the far edge of the room, directly beside the door that led outside. It was with a quiet, relieved sigh that she sunk into her desk.

Fifteen minutes until the bell rang. That meant she had plenty of time to mentally prepare herself before the day really kicked off.