jezebella
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2001
- Posts
- 227
*sidling in*
{Character Name- Jezebella, Age: all of nineteen, since... 1694, that is
Height-5'9, Curvy taut, mostly legs, Dark red hair- goblin green eyes, sailor mouth- Brief history...was once a promising witch that looked too long at something bad for her and became a magick practicing vampire that still looks at bad things.}
Entering the bar, the girl nods to the bouncer and hides her incisors in a quick smile. Her tumble of scarlet curls mostly hid the burn across her brow, a scrape over her left eye not as concealed. No matter, things happened that way sometimes. Tugging off her leather jacket, she wondered if anyone else with the power to fly into the night air or crush minds with a few twisted Gaelic words had spent time in therapy. Was that not even more obscure a magic than the ones she knew already? As it was, she had been going with her sire, mostly to amuse him, she suspected. Afterall, if Damien said jump, she always knew it meant he needed a good fuck. Otherwise he wouldn't be bossy, would he? He'd be the introspective, shy Damien or some other face. But dominant sire Damien was the one she dealt with best. Her lack of patience was made up for in how tenacious and fierce she could be if provoked. Nodding warmly to the bartender, she smiled as she said, "Bailey's? Heavy on the cream liquer...but a dash of chartreuse on the side? I'm feeling maudlin..." Her quick grin belied the words as she slid onto her stool, leather pants shiny like black paint over her legs. Her snug emerald green blouse hid the burns on her midsection and ivory hued belly. It had been a long night, yes, but the sit down, talk and listen part had seemed the most unbearable. Welts felt better than the little 'uh HUHs' from Dr. Cody, who Jez suspected of not believing she was truly a witch vampire a'tall. What did he know? However, Damien liked the game of it, and so they went. Just now, she leaned back a bit to look over the bar, wanting to see who was out and about.
{Character Name- Jezebella, Age: all of nineteen, since... 1694, that is
Height-5'9, Curvy taut, mostly legs, Dark red hair- goblin green eyes, sailor mouth- Brief history...was once a promising witch that looked too long at something bad for her and became a magick practicing vampire that still looks at bad things.}
Entering the bar, the girl nods to the bouncer and hides her incisors in a quick smile. Her tumble of scarlet curls mostly hid the burn across her brow, a scrape over her left eye not as concealed. No matter, things happened that way sometimes. Tugging off her leather jacket, she wondered if anyone else with the power to fly into the night air or crush minds with a few twisted Gaelic words had spent time in therapy. Was that not even more obscure a magic than the ones she knew already? As it was, she had been going with her sire, mostly to amuse him, she suspected. Afterall, if Damien said jump, she always knew it meant he needed a good fuck. Otherwise he wouldn't be bossy, would he? He'd be the introspective, shy Damien or some other face. But dominant sire Damien was the one she dealt with best. Her lack of patience was made up for in how tenacious and fierce she could be if provoked. Nodding warmly to the bartender, she smiled as she said, "Bailey's? Heavy on the cream liquer...but a dash of chartreuse on the side? I'm feeling maudlin..." Her quick grin belied the words as she slid onto her stool, leather pants shiny like black paint over her legs. Her snug emerald green blouse hid the burns on her midsection and ivory hued belly. It had been a long night, yes, but the sit down, talk and listen part had seemed the most unbearable. Welts felt better than the little 'uh HUHs' from Dr. Cody, who Jez suspected of not believing she was truly a witch vampire a'tall. What did he know? However, Damien liked the game of it, and so they went. Just now, she leaned back a bit to look over the bar, wanting to see who was out and about.