Daydream_weaver
Pondering possibilities
- Joined
- Apr 12, 2010
- Posts
- 3,484
Renee
I thought perhaps a bit of a profile would help me get my head around her more...
Name: Renee. What? I need more than that? Pff, this modern world. Very well, I shall take the surname Michel…it means “like God” fitting, no?
Age: A lady never tells her age. Let us simply say that I have seen more than my fair share of time pass and leave it at that.
Appearance: Ah yes, appearances are so important, and can be so deceiving. I had the good fortune to be taken in the blooming days of youth. The fresh flush of innocence still on my cheeks. My hair, dark and wavy, falls nearly to the perfectly rounded cheeks of my delightful backside. I am small in stature, a waif with curves to tempt the devil himself. This is often taken by some to mean I am weak and easy prey. Their mistake. My eyes I think at one time were some non-descript shade of blue, but time has changed them to the color of hardened steel. Unless I am in the grip of some powerful emotion...lust, rage, hunger...then they smolder with the color of heart's blood. Dark and rich and terrifyingly tempting.
History: Or in my case, her story…My memory of my mortal life is understandably vague. It was so long ago and not very remarkable. I remember there were always empty bellies and never enough food to fill them. There was always hard work and dirt on my skin. I do remember my mother. A woman who may have been beautiful if her life had been a bit easier, a woman worn out by constant birthing of one more creature to take what little the family had. I remember from a young age vowing that would not be my fate. The best thing that ever happened to me was when my parents sold me.
I went willingly to the brothel, it was either that or be married off to some peasant and live my mother’s life. That was where I met my maker, the one who gave me new life and power beyond what a simple girl could ever have imagined. But then I was no simple girl, which he found out soon enough. He loved me, the fool. He thought I loved him, beyond all else, and sought to bind me to him for all time. I had learned much in my brief time at the brothel, and I was very good at making men believe what I wanted them to. I still remember the look of surprise on his face when I finished with him and ended his pathetic existence. He still believed in love…but that is not for creatures such as us. Not for me at least, for me it must be power.
Power. Not only over my own life, but the lives of those beneath me. I have fought hard for it, and I will keep it at any cost. And I will have more. I will not be dictated to. I will not be cast aside. I will be the force others of my kind fear! I will bathe in the blood of mortal and undead alike to gain what is rightfully mine! It is my destiny to rule over the whole of our world and the mortal world alike, not just this pitiful city. I will continue to grow in power if I have to kill every living and undead creature in my path!
And yet at times…oh sometimes in the dead hours I tire of it all. I dream of the sun and a meadow of flowers, a child’s dream long turned to dust. I imagine one who can do for me what I have done for so many others of my kind, even if they screamed in denial and pain as I bestowed my gift upon them…the gift of peace.
I thought perhaps a bit of a profile would help me get my head around her more...
Name: Renee. What? I need more than that? Pff, this modern world. Very well, I shall take the surname Michel…it means “like God” fitting, no?
Age: A lady never tells her age. Let us simply say that I have seen more than my fair share of time pass and leave it at that.
Appearance: Ah yes, appearances are so important, and can be so deceiving. I had the good fortune to be taken in the blooming days of youth. The fresh flush of innocence still on my cheeks. My hair, dark and wavy, falls nearly to the perfectly rounded cheeks of my delightful backside. I am small in stature, a waif with curves to tempt the devil himself. This is often taken by some to mean I am weak and easy prey. Their mistake. My eyes I think at one time were some non-descript shade of blue, but time has changed them to the color of hardened steel. Unless I am in the grip of some powerful emotion...lust, rage, hunger...then they smolder with the color of heart's blood. Dark and rich and terrifyingly tempting.
History: Or in my case, her story…My memory of my mortal life is understandably vague. It was so long ago and not very remarkable. I remember there were always empty bellies and never enough food to fill them. There was always hard work and dirt on my skin. I do remember my mother. A woman who may have been beautiful if her life had been a bit easier, a woman worn out by constant birthing of one more creature to take what little the family had. I remember from a young age vowing that would not be my fate. The best thing that ever happened to me was when my parents sold me.
I went willingly to the brothel, it was either that or be married off to some peasant and live my mother’s life. That was where I met my maker, the one who gave me new life and power beyond what a simple girl could ever have imagined. But then I was no simple girl, which he found out soon enough. He loved me, the fool. He thought I loved him, beyond all else, and sought to bind me to him for all time. I had learned much in my brief time at the brothel, and I was very good at making men believe what I wanted them to. I still remember the look of surprise on his face when I finished with him and ended his pathetic existence. He still believed in love…but that is not for creatures such as us. Not for me at least, for me it must be power.
Power. Not only over my own life, but the lives of those beneath me. I have fought hard for it, and I will keep it at any cost. And I will have more. I will not be dictated to. I will not be cast aside. I will be the force others of my kind fear! I will bathe in the blood of mortal and undead alike to gain what is rightfully mine! It is my destiny to rule over the whole of our world and the mortal world alike, not just this pitiful city. I will continue to grow in power if I have to kill every living and undead creature in my path!
And yet at times…oh sometimes in the dead hours I tire of it all. I dream of the sun and a meadow of flowers, a child’s dream long turned to dust. I imagine one who can do for me what I have done for so many others of my kind, even if they screamed in denial and pain as I bestowed my gift upon them…the gift of peace.
