Post by Felicula Deniscus on Oct 23, 2011 20:23:40 GMT -5
Picture:
Age: appears to be twenty-three
Gender: Female
Species: Vampire
Appearance:
Age: appears to be twenty-three
Gender: Female
Species: Vampire
Appearance:
Felicula Deniscus' hair is light brown, soft as a kitten's, and flows down to her hips. Her large eyes are a silver blue (though when she is angered they appear to be a mint green) and framed by dark lashes. Pale skin stretches over pleasant features and a curvy frame. Lately, she's taken to traveling with a Tegu, named Leo, she carries on her shoulder.Personality:
Felicula is a quiet wanderer who is always thinking. Her mind never rests, and she can often be found curled up like a cat, reading or listening to music. Her eyes tend to have a distant look to them, but she is always paying attention, helping her to learn more about others than they learn about her. Her memory is nearly perfect - something she both loves and hates. She does not draw much attention to herself, and doesn't care to. She doesn't discriminate, and will talk to anyone given the conversation is interesting. She can be cruel when she wishes to be, using what she's learned about someone to her advantage. She is a fairly good liar, though only fairly for she doesn't have many opportunities to practice. She secretly longs for someone to trust and protect, and who will do the same for her. That being said, she is loyal and trustworthy and well-mannered. She grins more than smiles, and enjoys a good argument or fight. Once she is more comfortable around someone, she will tease them and joke around a lot. She has little interest in humans as she sees them as short-lived and boringly repetitious.History:
Felicula is afraid to face her memories, so she keeps them carefully tucked away. Now and again, though, fragments seep through.
A merciless fire burning everything in sight.
The echoing, horrifying screams which accompany smells of burning flesh.
A cold hand gripping her shoulder, and plunging her into a world of darkness.
That hand belonged to her Master who renamed her Felicula, meaning kitty, for her soft brown hair and the ways she curls up when she sits or lies down. Since the day she was found and turned by her Master (she long ago forgot his name as this was all she called him), she traveled the world with him. She did not call him Master because she was his servant, but rather because she was his pupil. He gave her a love and thirst for knowledge and a love of the arts and beauty. He taught her how to fight and how to blend in. Still, he could not fill the emptiness that she felt.
She was content with him nonetheless, until he left her one day. When he had taught her all he could, he wandered away from her. Felicula knew this would happen one day since he was a wanderer at heart, but she couldn't help but to feel betrayed. Since then, she has never fully trusted anyone.