alrighty ladiez take two !! isla here again , please feel free to hmu to plot for either of my bbs @ amidala#5226
◜ 𝗜. 𝙣𝙤𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧, 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙚𝙫𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨
AN ETERNITY TO LIVE, inez marquez has had many lives, some more bloodier than others. she was not born with blood in her mouth, she was at one point happy, she enjoyed her life, loved her family. it never was lost on her the way she stuck out from her other siblings, she was not like them, never felt quite right. but when cursed with eternity, she realized it was not her own paranoia that betrayed her, it was the very blood that coursed through her veins. a hybrid; neither vampire, nor werewolf. she was cursed to be two fragments of complete opposites, a living antithesis that was succumbing to both the urges of blood and carnage.
◜ 𝗜𝗜. 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚
IT WAS INNATE FOR her to be a monster, or maybe just convenient. she hated what she was, a volatile creature whose anger and resent was amplified. feeling like her spiraling might destroy her relationship with her family, she left for decades, hoping that distance might keep them safe from her self destruction, and it did, but at the cost of anyone who crossed paths with her. by the time she returned, she’d made peace with her curse, realizing that the only way eternity would not feel so miserable is by sharing it with the only ones she could; her family.
◜ 𝗜𝗜𝗜. 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚, 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙨
INEZ HAS LIVED in watermount for 20 years, almost immediately starting her life of running and terrorizing anew. she’s still very volatile and sometimes can come off as vicious, but honestly, its mostly a front. her family is probably the most important thing in her life, she could give a fuck about anybody else save for the occasional friends she makes along the way.
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𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙳𝙴𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙼 , your demons and all the non - believers ?
tw : child abandonment , foster care system , death &. murder mention , ferocious writing .
and here we are at the final one ! this whole time i have been telling dorian i’m ready to stop this so i know for a fact she’s as happy as mwuah . i didn’t proofread any of these and i am so sorry in advance for the quality . last but certainly not least i present to you the one muse i truly love , miss love locklear ! she is the embodiment of pure perfection and literally would die for anyone even if they don’t know her there i said it . as before and before that , a lil hearty heart on this post and my ass is urs !
╰ 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 ; the anthem won't explain it , a world that sends you reeling from decimated dreams !
government name : love chantal - marie locklear .
nicknames : lo , lala , ve , perfect sweet baby ( mine for her get ur own )
physical/actual age : twenty eight .
hometown : west monroe , louisiana .
occupation : psychology teacher at watermount high school .
gender : cisfemale , female pronouns preferred .
orientation : pansexual .
height : 162 cm , 5′3 .
weight : 48 kg , 108 lbs .
complexion : tan and hydrated , skin is almost like silk and smells of fresh lavender and waterfalls , crafted by gods to deliver sweet messages of hope and love . no blemish or marking , only a butterfly tattoo behind right ear that dares to touch jaw bone .
hair : thicker than both blood and water , cascading perfectly down back in mesmerizing waves always well - kept except for nights found sleeping at home desk or gaming chair , stops right before back dimples and smells of sunshine and coconut .
distinguishable characteristics : southern octaves twisted with sincere tendencies , attention - grabbing smile meant to make ice melt , exuberating positivity and hope as if she were being paid to do so , a laugh so loud one with hearing loss could hear at perfect pitch followed with a childish snort .
favored : forms of affection , overindulging in junk foods , romcoms &. soap operas , cherry lip gloss , hooped earrings , binge playing skyrim for days at a time , over exaggerated wardrobe choices , tequila on the rocks , fried foods &. sweets , watermelon blow pops , being the mom friend , teaching her students in various methods to find out what best helps their future , the idea of love &. soulmates with happy endings .
distastes : snakes &. most bugs , students turning in assignments late , complusive liars with no remorse , not organizing school events , the bar being out of cheesed fries , music that’s not 2000′s hits or any female pop icon , meat that’s not burnt to a crisp , someone being mean to those she cares about , having to yell &. not be from joy , heavy partying but not exclusively liquor itself , anyone telling her no , being on time for events , &. someone telling her what to do .
fears : failing her students as a teacher &. fuckin’ around too much &. becoming sinister .
aspirations : becoming the best educator for her students &. havin’ those cute thank you cards written about her .
╰ 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 ; your misery and hate will kill us all so paint it black and take it back !
it’s hard to pull the roots of your origin when you’re just at a lost for words . the ladies at the foster home back in louisiana would say you were a church baby , found as a newborn on the steps of the chapel and taken into the local foster care system . apparently the pastor couldn’t afford a youngin , for he said he would have took you in a heartbeat . wasn’t that what they all said after your fellow government secured siblings would get picked for a vacation away from that hell but you ? some would tease and say that you were too quiet , too nice , no one wanted a silent child . but how should you act ? you knew nothing better . you wanted to stay out of the shadows , out of the eyes of others , you wanted to be safe in your own arms and nothing else . as a child , being without a real family scared you . who would you fall back on once school would let out and you were of age ? who would you turn to in dire need of a helping hand ? look in the mirror for that’s all you will have . being at the foster home made you crave for better , didn’t it ? getting shoved , pushed , sometimes going without meals . you never interacted much with the adults outside of coming and going to school . they would yell for bed and howl for morning , punishment would follow if you did anything besides what they said , and sometimes the punishments never really fit the crime . but looking at you now , you could never tell what childhood scars decorate you now . from middle school until grave , you would be the personification of light . you would give name to the word love , for that’s all you ever wanted . to love and to be loved . to have a family to fall back on ; cousins , aunts , uncles , siblings all pestering you at family gathering to tell them what’s what and who’s who . but , alas , god never wanted you to sip from the chalice that is a happy home life , and who are we to question our maker ?
excellence in schooling showed as you moved onto college , securing your degree and becoming what you wanted to be felt like that last quest in a game you couldn’t wait to beat and soon , you did . during this time , though , becoming the world’s punchline seemed to be in your deck of cards . a phone call from an unknown number sent you through the ringer , going back to your hometown to demand answers from the hands that still held you in their grasp despite the poor treatment felt from theirs . you had gotten violent , something you never desired to become , as you sat there with the woman’s collar in hand while top of her body dangled out of the window . she was twice your size and yet you lunged her out of the opening without ease . that was when you first screamed . it was almost too powerful for you , yourself , to take . ears rang and spewed crimson like a toddler with their hands in a stream of paint . it was an instinct that turned into sound , a gut feeling bellowing out like a high pitched holler for the devil’s aid . the woman in your grasp collapsed from such sound , it had caused her to meet her untimely end and since then , no matter how confused you have been from what happened , you forbid to indulge . you forbid to entertain anything of the nature or kind , for you still smell the death on your fingers . you still feel the life of her drain from contact with your skin as sound waves bounced off earth in a fit of fury . even the most evil didn’t deserve what they dished out , karma had always been a hard ass , but sadly , mostly to you . you fled the town to come to watermount and teach , to take your mind of past events and to create lasting memories with the new . if only you could get that empty feeling in your gut to silence the rumblings bound to find their way out .
𝚒'𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 , 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 ; that there is DANTE CARTER , notorious for being ( impulsive ) and ( blunt ) , but there are times when he can be ( dedicated ) and ( loyal ) . i’ve heard that he could pass as a CHANCE PERDOMO doppelganger , but i don’t see it . the ( twenty-three ) year - old male ( human ) has been in town for ( three days ) and they are a ( self-employed podcast host ) affiliated with ( no one ) . they tend to spark images of notes scribbled on everything and anything and folded haphazardly into a pocket notebook , the rich aroma of coffee brewing but at all hours of the night , and accidentally getting roped into a demon summoning .
B A S I C I N F O R M A T I O N
NAME: Dante Carter
NICKNAME: dc
AGE: 23 -- aries
SPECIES: human
ORIENTATION: pan
OCCUPATION: host of The Podcast
PINTEREST: oop
i ended up in the back of a flashing car
children tend to have an inclination towards the fantastical and dante was no different. folklore, tales grimm, aliens, creatures darting between shadows too fast for the eye to see... he ate it all up. as he grew old, many attempted to dissuade him, but he knew that there were just some things that could not be made up. too many consistencies across different regions with physical and linguistic blockers to prevent such corroboration.
despite his fanciful belief, dante worked diligently in everything he did. always giving 110% if he said he’d do something, he’d make sure to get it done even if it killed him. though he does believe in the mystical and otherworldy, dante is not one of blind faith. willing to question everything until there is proof either way on a matter, he can and will go round and round about inane topics.
after graduating with an english major and a journalism minor, dante started a podcast. it was a small thing, just a collection of his combined interviews, but as his listenership grew it expanded to vlogs of his travels hunting stories, monthly newsletters on what he’s learned or not learned, and a generous followership that’s allowed him to be a nomad for the past year and a half.
a self-identified historian, dante takes what he does very seriously. for the past six months he had been focusing on cryptids but now is shifting to ghost towns. the grit district brought him and his filming equipment into town packed neatly into his jeep, and he won’t leave until he has answers he can proudly share with his audience.
with the city shining on my face
certified good boy™ dante is a gryffindor entp. he needs exactly this much hype and support to get into a number of bad decisions. fell for those scam emails once and wasn’t able to make a cool tedtalk about it. ideal dream is to compose and present a tedtalk and to live a full life.
- & they were roommates - he’s just rolled into town and has been crashing at rollins motel, but a more semi-permanet place to stay would not be bad.
- penpals - maybe they met on some spn forum boards. could be a fellow human, a hunter, or supernatural who set some things from how the media muddled facts about certain creatures. they could either stayed in touch and are planning to meet or drifted apart as he went on to university. lots of ideas to work with.
- honestly? - he just got here. we can plot out some things or just let things happen. it is what it is.
𝚒'𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 , 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 ; that there is 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐒 '𝐋𝐈𝐎' 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀 , notorious for being ( precipitous ) and ( truculent ) , but there are times when he can be ( dauntless ) and ( beguiling ) . i’ve heard that he could pass as a TOM ELLIS doppelganger , but i don’t see it . the ( thirty eight / forty ) year - old cis male ( hybrid ) has been in town for ( two months ) and they are a ( pediatric surgeon at watermount hospital ) affiliated with ( no one ) . they tend to spark images of the crowd chanting his name as they lift him in high spirits, the furious blush of that settles on the cheeks of his victims, a boisterous laugh that fills the air, neither humorless nor humor - full .
𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓼.
full name: helios 'lio’ roma.
species: hybrid. ( werewolf / vampire. )
age: thirty eight. ( forty. )
gender: cis male.
pronouns: he / him.
sexuality: heterosexual.
occupation: pediatric surgeon at watermount hospital.
duration in town: two months.
parents: deceased.
spouse: ( wanted connection. )
sibling: apollo roma, constantine roma, one other brother.
children: one. ( wanted connection. )
( + ) beguiling, dauntless, witty.
( - ) precipitous, truculent, arrogant.
𝓫𝓲𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱𝔂.
you are the second eldest of the roma clan. a stark contrast to your older brother, apollo.
you shine with brilliance in the form of friendliness and academic success. you make friends easy from a young age, taking on the leader role in stride. you were born for the alpha position, is what you hear often from your father.
but you don't want it. too much responsibility, is what you tell yourself. so you indulge in the glorified life of a popular kid. dating too many girls, outshining his peers academically.
the death of their parents comes far too quickly, far too harshly. and while a new side of apollo shows, you remain. you encourage tears, encourage sadness from your brothers.
watermount is different from new york. it's empty. or perhaps that was due to the giant hole carved in your heart from your parents' absence. the phase you convinced yourself that apollo was in remains. he leaves you all behind, turns a blind eye.
but you are there. sitting with your brothers, helping them with their homework, giving advice when asked, cooking, cleaning, taking on the role of what would've been their father. what should've been.
captain of the football team. prom king. top of his class. all terms to describe your high school career. all leading up to ... a hefty scholarship for nyu, pre - med track.
it's a sorrowful goodbye, one with a sealed promise that you'll return to watermount. that you're not leaving them. but you forget that little promise as you form your own family in new york.
as you are turned into a hybrid, half of what your family hates the most: vampire.
once your hunger was under control, your promise is brought to the forefront of your brain. a reminder. you pack up your family and leave to watermount at once, eager to reunite with the majority of your brothers.
now, a stunning surgeon at watermount's hospital.
TLDR; second eldest roma that picked up apollo's slack when their parents died. golden boy of watermount during his high school years, took a scholarship to new york university on the pre - med track. married & had a kid. became a hybrid, is now a pediatric surgeon at watermount hospital.
𝚒'𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 , 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 ; that there is ANASTASIA ZOIE ARSLAN , notorious for being ( hot-headed ) and ( abrasive ) , but there are times when she can be ( persuasive ) and ( unwavering ) . i’ve heard that she could pass as a ASLIHAN MALBORA doppelganger , but i don’t see it . the ( thirty / seventy nine ) year - old cis female ( heretic ) has been in town for ( ten years ) and they are a ( owner of the strange and unusual oddities parlor ) affiliated with ( no one ) . they tend to spark images of the clink of glasses filled with questionable and unfamiliar substances, stern looks shot towards wary passerby at an unkind word, and flowers in a constant state of bloom in spite of the weather .
basics.
full name: anastasia zoie arslan.
nickname ( s ): ana.
name meaning: resurrection, life.
age: thirty / seventy nine.
species: heretic.
occupation: owner of the strange and unusual oddities parlor.
in a world’s slow descent into madness, your country quickly approaching the second of their world wars, you come out screaming, making more of a scene than your brother only minutes prior. you set the precedent for much of your life.
your brother takes up more demure hobbies as you grow older, while you take a bigger interest in the stories of magic that your father is willing to share. you catch glimpses of it in moments of passing, eyes alight in wonder.
still, you two are very nearly attached at the hip, a mutual source of comfort and in spite of him being the elder twin, you are the one ready to protect him at a moment’s notice. he is soft, sees the world with wonder. you cannot let the world ruin him.
you have no problem remaining tucked inside the house at your mother’s stern demands, for you did not possess your brother’s green thumb nor his inherent love for the outdoors. but even still you grow restless, a budding desire for more.
at thirteen, you realize you are not among the same plane of witches that you once dreamed about with fondness. without the amulet you’ve worn since before you can remember, you have no magic of your own. your intrigue doesn’t lessen, only shifts. you test your limits frequently and often, after that, but you never siphon from those you care for. for now, they are safe.
a monster, they say. that you hear only from whispered conversations between visiting adults. what makes a monster, a monster ? scary teeth, impending danger ? you are just a child.
as you grow into yourself more, so does your boldness and proclivity for mischief increase. you sneak out late and often, with your parents none the wiser. there is more to life beyond the high wall that surrounds your property, and you were keen to see it all.
you have always been far too capable of holding your own, so it is easy to ignore downturned noses and whispered insults in favor of friends who could care less about your abilities or lack thereof. you are fifteen when you punch an unsuspecting boy in the face, proud to watch the fear in his eyes as you sap magic from his being.
you are a force, and it’s clear why hurricanes are named after people. it is the first time you start to believe their words. that maybe a monster lurked just beneath beautiful surface. your hands tremble when you return home for the evening, body thrumming with unspent magic. you do not siphon again for months.
after this, you meet your first and only real boyfriend, including clandestine meetings late into the night, stolen kisses at the garden entrance. he is a kind boy, or kind enough, and your heart experiences it’s first break several months into the relationship. without word, he disappears, death is assumed, and your heart aches with unanswered questions.
at eighteen, you manage to persuade demetrius to join you, insisting it is no life lived locked like some princess in a tower. but not all good things last, and not all parties end well. you flee the gathering quickly the moment things turn sour, mumble soft and broken apologies to your brother in the comfort of his room, and at some point your tears mix with his own.
you attend fewer and fewer parties after that, siphoning taking a back burner while you focus on other aspects of being a witch that pique your interest. grimoires and natural elements, herbs and incantations. you hone your skills in this way, even if you have no use for them in the comfort of your home.
at thirty, you no longer seek your mother’s permission to leave the home, as she trusts you and your brother wholly. still it is a foolish plight, another party, another problem. all was going well, and yet death seems to follow wherever you go, for by the end of the evening, it is yours and your brother’s lives that are snatch away.
when the transition is completely, you find that your home is no longer your own. the sun burns and you must be invited inside once more. a daylight ring is crafted for you and your brother, and neither of your parents seem to speak on what you’ve become.
the very same year, tragedy strikes your family without question. a normal evening in the arslan household, sibling banter and the doting looks of their parents across dinner table. the night ends as they always do, but you find yourself awoken abruptly, room filling with smoke and fire licking at the walls. the vague chants of ‘ monster, abomination ‘ just outside the house. your brother is your savior, as he always is when you need him most, and just like that, you flee into the night.
you become a solitary pair, traveling together for the next several decades, only every relying on one another. how could you freely trust anyone when your family had been ripped from your very grasp ?
watermount, vermont is your safe haven. a home for all monsters that roamed the earth. surely you could find safety, solitude, in such a town ? you take ownership of the strange and unusual oddities parlor, and put your passion for magic into good use.
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𝚒'𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 , 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 ; that there is AINSLEY NAKAMURA , notorious for being ( obstinate ) and ( petulant ) , but there are times when she can be ( fervid ) and ( idiosyncratic ) . i’ve heard that she could pass as a KAYLEE BRYANT doppelganger , but i don’t see it . the ( twenty - two ) year - old cis female ( cambion ) has been in town for ( her whole life ) and they are a ( jeweler at the gem hut ) affiliated with ( no one ) . they tend to spark images of dried forgotten paint on ones face , a soft smile that almost seems sinister , a strange emptiness that can ‘ t be sated .
second intro lego .
name : ainsley may nakamura
nickname : ains
age : 22
sign : sagittarius
gender : cis fem
pronouns : she / her
orientation : bi
occupation : jeweler at the gem hut
since birth , ainsley nakamura has known what she really is . raised by her demon parent , she’s known her existence defies the laws of nature . the thought both troubles and comforts her . being something rare is exhilarating but the thought of not belonging anywhere frightens her . she ‘ s blended in with humans all her life and has always been overly careful about showing what she really is , something she learned from her overly protective parent .
having been twenty - two years now with little to no incidents , ainsley has become more carefree . she desires a life of freedom and not having to worry about prejudice against her species or being hunted for what she is . she spends most of her time around humans , fascinated about the way they live , about the other side of her dna .
her parent who raised her in a follower of lucifer , ainsley herself has never had a chance to learn about god or angels , she’s been raised with the knowledge that she’s to worship lucifer , that they ‘ re the only one that could ever love her .
ainsley is naive and dangerous . her refusal to take her power seriously is enough to get someone killed . she may be able to feign innocence now but what about after she takes a life ?
𝚒'𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 , 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 ; that there is DELILAH VANDERBUILT , notorious for being ( vengeful ) and ( ruthless ) , but there are times when she can be ( reliable ) and ( decisive ) . i've heard that she could pass as a LANA PARRILLA doppelganger , but i don't see it . the ( unknown ) year - old cisfemale ( original witch ) has been in town for ( over a thousand years ) and they are a ( headmistress of solis academy ) affiliated with ( the vanderbuilts first / lucifer second ) . they tend to spark images of shamelessly selling your soul to the devil for everything you so clearly deserved , venom in her veins and hellfire in her eyes , high heels clicking down academy halls sounds a lot like power to me .
additional information . ( tw : death , poverty , murder )
there’s a saying: chaos doesn’t come without cause. in this case, delilah’s chaos brewed from pitiful days, ill weeks, and sorrowful years. she had so much potential, and she was spending it wasting away. simple lives led to simple deaths, and she wanted to avoid her family’s downfall. they left her ALONE. they ceased. and no one mourned them. no one but her. and she promised herself, with each burial, she’d refuse death the minute he came to claim her. she’d barter anything to do it.
so when death came in the visage of a beautiful angel, of LUCIFER themself, delilah said fuck it. sure, she had become a wife, a mother, and she found some things enjoyable. but that could all be taken away, couldn’t it? and delilah always wanted more. so she signed the contract in blood, and she did so without hesitation.
delilah doesn’t believe she sacrificed anything to get what she has now. she had a shitty, impoverished life before and it just wasn’t cutting it for the greedy, power-hungry woman. if one could cheat death and despair, one simply should.
naturally, she was the one to ask lucifer for everything the vanderbuilts have now. her husband was more hesitant and 'logical' about these matters. delilah, with the rage of a woman who has lost and felt like nothing, swore it off to fear and stupidity. she got what she wanted, in the end, never considering what it meant for the family as a whole. they'd thank her later, anyways. she had given them LIFE, she had given them ALL a mother could possibly give. and if it hurt? it hurt fucking less than dying a poor man’s death.
as for her powers - oh lucifer did treat her. they are terrifying and powerful and darker than one could ever expect. she can turn the room into a PRISON with the simple snap of her fingers, and she feeds off of that power / control. and the fear / respect. that little, insignificant girl is gone. in her place, a true born witch.
and the witch, she takes. she takes, takes, takes. but everything requires something in return; magic especially. delilah has done her sacrifices, blood magic, and her damning spells / curses before.
oh, but she's a bit less 'extra' and more 'refined' about all that now. modern times predict progression. but if someone pushes her buttons? delilah can return to her old ways.
it's not wise to cross the woman. she's revenge in the flesh. she'll make your life a living hell, or at least she will try. cursing the marquez family had its BACKFIRE and her pride burns hot and fierce because of it. one day, she'll fix that mistake. when it hurts them the most. when it guts them like her child’s death had. how could she have let that happen? hadn’t she traded it all for their lives to live on, at the mercy of none? apparently, only at the mercy of her own damn creation. guilt resides somewhere in her heart.
despite being selfish, she loves her family. she wants them to grow and become GODS in their own right. after all, they are like gods, aren't they? where god made man, she made vampire. or so her line of thought exists. and like god once, she wants to see her creation extinct.
she is dedicated to serving lucifer. she doesn't bite the hand that feeds her, after all. but she isn't some PAWN and she makes this known in their relationship. theirs is a mutual benefit. with lucifer granting her power, and delilah wielding it to do the damage. but should lucifer cross her family, delilah will redirect the blow. no one crosses her family.
her and her husband have a 'unique' version of love. when you've been together with someone for so long, that tends to happen. they've an open marriage, but at the end of the day, delilah will choose him over anyone else. call it familiarity or understanding or the fact that her husband puts up with her shit. she enjoys giving him hell, especially since she thinks he's a little softer than her (which balances her madness well, but she'll never admit that).
her and her kids are sometimes at odds because of how she runs the household. but at the end of the day, they can always expect mother dearest to FIX a problem should they need one fixing. she's reliable in that regard.
miss power, miss control, she finds herself in heaven as headmistress of solis academy. it’s something she’s very adamant about getting right. lest they have a bunch of rebellious supernatural brats running about.
and here we are for our second round ! one more to go and i promise u will be rid of me . now in this shitro we will tackle the living legend and boogeywoman known as lavinia , whom used to mean well and be the apple of everyone’s eyes until vampirism hit her like a train and she never recovered . has been struggling emotionally over the last millennia trying to get the real her back but keeps failing and pushing down any efforts she has with alcohol and sarcasm and occasional dirty jokes she found online . internet is her playground . anyway ! same thang chicken wang , show this some love and we will be attached at the hip !
╰ 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒 𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 ; undeserving of your sympathy 'cause there ain't no way that i'm sorry for what i did !
government name : lavinia rosamaria soledad paloma marquez .
nicknames : vinnie , vivi , delicious devil , hot pants , little marquez , salvador junior , angel ( childhood nickname long abandoned due to demonic behavior )
physical/actual age : twenty two , old as fuck .
hometown : unknown but has been in watermount for forever .
occupation : owner of the beer cellar , occasional instagram influencer .
gender : cisfemale , female pronouns preferred .
orientation : pansexual .
height : 167 cm , 5′5 .
weight : 53 kg , 116 lbs .
complexion : sun kissed to perfection , freckles spanning along nose and towards upper face just enough to be noticed , a scar below bottom lip on right side from a childhood fall , almost airbrushed in reflection .
hair : almost jet black in winter and spring , summer brings light brown and blonde highlights to twirl in thickened curls that were once cascaded down spine now only come to shoulders . well kept in loose ringlets touched by gods but gifted by the devil .
distinguishable characteristics : deep brown hues to show uninterest in many things , a laugh that fills rooms though has felt empty over the last few fallen empires , an accent so thick one can barely make what is being said and gets worse with heightened emotions , a physical frame to die for and she has in her own hell many times .
favored : science fiction and action movies , shows about illegal activity and of course lucifer , cooking competition shows or honestly the tasty videos off f*cebook , eating any and all foods except meat we are vegetarian blood suckin’ fang founders in this house , listening to obnoxious eighties rock and my chemical romance at every hour of the day , stealing her mother’s wardrobe though a thousand years has given her plenty , starting arguments with her siblings then trying to take selfie , doing her lipstick in a golden spoon because nothing looks better than her in richness , being chaotic .
distastes : caramel flavoring and itself entirely , anything with meat in it despite a living human ( animals don’t deserve to be hurt in her eyes which is valid ) , not having her nails painted at all times , getting ignored at the grown up family table , the attention not being on her , sappy moments in life and on television , when america’s next top model doesn’t get recorded , the smell of anything besides chanel and food , having to repeat herself more than once , and someone not noticing her new hair style .
fears : someone finding out the facade she’s forced herself to believe her whole existence &. not getting the real her back before her damnation .
aspirations : raising as much hell as the devil will allow her before fingers swarm her throat and pull her under , fishing pieces of what she used to be in the river that now runs red with sin .
╰ 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐍 ; sometimes i see flames and sometimes i see people that i love dying and, it's always just sleep !
ask anyone now to speak your name and they forbid to call on the boogeyman . you have made a name for yourself as the youngest and most vicious marquez , to be feared and hated than to be hurt yourself in the process . no one looks out for you like you and the family branded to you like the scarlet a on a sinner woman’s chest . but those people don’t really know you , do they ? they don’t know what has sent you on this downward spiral lasting all of your vampirism , they don’t know how plastic the mask you have twisted to suit fabrications you believed your family wanted . you couldn’t be who you were and live the life you do now , could you ? they speak of how sweet you were once , like a freshly picked wildflower just bloomed . you cared for others much more than they did you , and back then , it was okay , for your maker would thank you in the afterlife . but now after the life lived , the only thanks you would get would be your own personalized hellish slumber to fall into for the rest of eternity . it was like a light switched off that night , by now you don’t remember but suppressed memories flow in late at night like a broken record with no relief . you would become what would best suit your lifestyle and family , though you lost the reigns and now a stride of impurity follows you like a lost puppy trying to find a home . and you gave it one , too , you gave the evil bounded by thick strains of belief and hope from past you the breath of relief it so craved . you’ve spent your existence ignoring voices in your head begging to be released , a sugared smell and kind octaves from years of pushed down resentment fill the corners of your mind but booze , misplaced anger , and bad decisions act like homemade earplugs so you can’t hear what you don’t want to anymore . you have become deaf to your own screams of help , how poetic of you , my love .
hunger nips at you like frost on exposed skin , bound to happen and painful no matter how many times you fall victim . this life wasn’t something you wanted . you wanted the fairytale ending ; the love of your life growing old with you , starting a family and watching generations unfold before your eyes , doing good in the world so when it was your turn they would do good back . had your faith been thinner than you thought ? for you dropped your beliefs and your ways like hot sacks when you were granted power never asked for by your lips , the thrill of eternity seemed like something you would enjoy for a fresh minute . for a fresh minute after turning , you felt like god . you felt just like him , as if you were watching over the mortals and could do what you desired with no repercussions . every time you do something you want to do , though , an uneasy setting in your gut proves otherwise . maybe the devil has his limits and , dear , perhaps you have reached yours . maybe this is the fairytale ending prescribed to you so long ago . a villain shall never get the heroic ending but , oh , how you would slaughter a thousand heroes just for a taste .
