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 Posted: Wed Aug 27, 2014 1:45 am
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█████████ █ ▌ ✦✧xBELLADONNA xx RUBEN xx SANTIAGO x✧✦ ▐ █ █████████
 LADY SANTIAGO OF UNDARIEL, AT YOUR SERVICE.
NAME
↪xxBelladonna Ruben Santiago
ALIAS
AGE
↪xx678 (human years, is almost three demon years in age)
GENDER
RACE
↪xxLaesi (Lesser Demonic Undead)
ORIENTATION
↪xxBisexual // Sapiosexual
DATE OF BIRTH
ABILITIES
↪xxShadow Manipulation
↪xxMastery of Illusory Magics
↪xxKnowledge of Transportation Rituals
WEAKNESSES
↪xxPhysical body is always in a state of decomposition.
↪xxCurrently battling fatal, flesh-eating poison.
↪xxUnable to pursue intimate relationships.
DESIRED COLLAR
↪xxAny material, gold filigree, opal and emerald gemstones. Preferred colors are blue, gold, and green.
DESIRED CHARMS
↪xxSyringe, shield, holding hands, heart, and numbers.
MY DIMENSIONS, FOR FUTURE REFERENCE.
HEIGHT
↪xxFive feet, eight inches
WEIGHT
↪xxA hundred and twenty pounds
BODY TYPE
HAIR COLOUR
EYE COLOUR
SKIN TONE
TATTOOS/PIERCINGS/BIRTHMARKS/SCARS
↪xxNone. When illusory perception field is down, one can see plenty of spots upon her body that are rotted through, such as her calves, torso, and the area from the middle of her nose down to her collarbone.
THIS IS THE COMPANY I CHOOSE TO KEEP.
MOTHER
↪xxSidhe Silliga (Adoptive Mother)
FATHER
↪xxGrimme Silliga (Adoptive Father)
SIBLINGS
RELATIONSHIP STATUS
↪xxWidowed. Further explanation proves that this question becomes very complicated, very easily.
WHILE YOU'RE DISSECTING MY PERSON, ALLOW ME TO DIVULGE ALL THAT I AM...
LIKES
↪xxPursuing a higher education
↪xxBooks
↪xxIntelligent discourse
↪xxFlirting
↪xxDead languages
DISLIKES
↪xxManipulation
↪xxIgnorant subordinates
↪xxBetrayal
↪xxNaah'giir Quixotes (Naga)
↪xxPoison
FEARS
↪xxThe final death
↪xxBeing betrayed by a lover
↪xxGetting kidnapped
PERSONALITY
RESILIENT
↪xxI'm not easily discouraged, and I'll pursue a thing until the very end. I don't like to leave loose ends or unconfirmed feeling hanging around in the air. I can take a hell of a beating, and I almost never back down.
SELFLESS
↪xxThis is as much of a good trait as it is a bad one. I always have the best intentions in mind, but we all know that the road to hell is paved with them. Either way, I put my people, my lovers, and anyone else I care about before myself
INTELLIGENT
↪xxIt's obvious, isn't it? I have a lust for knowledge, and reasons to apply what I learn to my life. I want to know anything, everything, and it doesn't matter what. I also pick things up rather quickly, just teach me how to do something, and I'll not only do that, but I'll do what you've taught me ten times faster and better than you ever could have.
CALLOUS
↪xxI have the capacity to care for everyone, but... I just don't. My affect most times comes off as cold and uninterested when I'm in a room filled with fellow nobles, or at an event that requires me to mingle with people I could care less about. Outsiders assume that this is how I am all the time, and can't seem to understand how my people seem to adore me so much.
TEMPERAMENTAL
↪xxOkay, so I have a bit of an anger issue. I've been known to assault or kill people at the most minor of provocations. On top of that, I'm a bit paranoid and always on edge. Not a good mixture. For the most part, though, I have managed to get my anger under control. I've had at least two-thirds of a millennia to do so, anyway.
IMPULSIVE
↪xxWhen I want something, or someone, I tend to throw myself at it. I don't usually give any second thoughts after I've made my initial decision. Part of my resilient nature is that I'm stubborn as all hell, and to top it off with general impulsiveness... Well, it's a fantastic combination for snap decisions I can take time to regret later.
DEAD WOMEN TELL SOME INTERESTING TALES...
THE PLAGUE OF THE CENTURY
↪xxI was born during a time of plague within the heart of culture, expansion, and bloody conquest: Spain, 1336. My father was a corsair who took a Spanish noble as a hostage, and forced himself to become his wife. After a few years within this unhappy marriage, my mother had been broken by my father's whims and wishes, and she eventually fell into a depression that turned her into a meek, obedient woman who would do anything to make him happy. I was too young to understand how any of this happened, or how horrid our scenario was, but all that I knew about my childhood before I died was that I was clothed, fed, and generally happy, despite being kept away from my parents and raised by now-faceless caretakers.
When I was eleven, another outbreak of the Black Plague wafted over Europe, and I succumbed to the illness, as well as my mother. Father had caught it before, and survived it, as he boasted to us several times in between feverish sleep and cries of general agony from the buboes decorating out thin, frail bodies. He was the only one of our household who survived, a sort of punishment for creating a family the way he did, I suppose. Father had hired a caretaker for myself and my mother, a doctor by the name of Matthieu, who I had become very fond of, despite the apparent gap in ages. The thing that kept me going in my final days, before I had surrendered myself to the plague, was the careful examinations, little quips, and gentle speech of the masked man who I would never see again within this lifetime.
He told me little stories about the other countries, grand stories about my father, and even grander stories about the pope and how he had once had the pleasure of kissing his ring. Since I was just a child, I had eaten up every one of these stories, and in between fits of coughing up blood and vomiting, I would ask for him to retell me those stories time and again. After two weeks of being stricken with the Black Death, my mother expired, leaving all of her riches to me. This enraged my father, but he knew... He knew I would die soon enough, and that he'd have the estate, the wealth, and all of his luxuries to himself. He was an awful pirate, but he was a fantastic conman. My mother's death had drawn me closer to my own, as my affect became more and more depressed, and despair was becoming one of the only things that was comfortable within this ever-dwindling life.
The day Mattheiu didn't visit was the day I decided to accept defeat and move onto the afterlife. The next day, my body was moved into a mass grave with all of the others that had been discovered dead. What happened between then and my second life is all a blur, but I remember Sidhe telling me that wonderful, fantastic things had happened. I had been chosen to be a host body for a demon to bring great things to the world. They had been chosen to guard, protect, and raise me as their own. Unknown to me at the time, I had been chosen to do great and terrible things.
THE UNDEAD NOBLEWOMAN
↪xxAfter I was brought back from the dead and restored to a somewhat healthy state (with slight decomposition), Sidhe and Grimme ripped open a rift the next day and took my to my new home in the Under Realm: Undariel, the undead homelands within the continent of Tynric. There, I lived my life as I would any other normal child. I grew into an exceptional young woman, interested in books, this thing called "magic", and I may have taken a few dives into darker subjects like poisons and disease. Between my courses of self-teaching, I was taught proper etiquette and Under Realm mannerisms, as well as the native languages. If I was to be a representative, and eventually leader, of Undariel, I had to first be groomed to become it's envoy.
After I had turned sixteen, I decided to venture out to Davenforth and pursue a higher education. I was interested in semi-harmless magics, such as shadow manipulation and illusory tricks, and there were teachers there within the Solus Academia who could help me hone and master those skills. I found myself to enjoy learning more so than the other students, and would eagerly go out and seek more things to practice and learn about in my time within Davenforth. One thing I never thought I would learn about was... My body, it's subconscious desires, it's wants to have a certain kind of friction with another person. Around this time of discovery and an eager mind to learn more about myself, I had met Bane Shæden, the son of Azael Shæden, the ruler of Davenforth.
For some reason, I lusted for older men, and here I was, running after Bane like an enamored schoolgirl (but to be honest, I was one). I had told no one in Davenforth that I was to be the next on Undariel's high seat, but Bane was an exception. It seemed to be the only way he would pay attention to me. After I had told him that I was of noble influence, he had began what we would call "courting" back in Spain, but it was so much more than that. We gave into animal instincts, and eventually, I forgot all about my studies and constantly sneaked away from the thing I loved most to dabble in something I know now I can live without. After about three months worth of time with Bane, I had abandoned all of my studies, and desired desperately to elope with him. When he said "yes" so instantly, so quickly, so... Aggressively, I should have known that his father was pulling his strings in his mad obsession for claiming Tynric as all his own, one territory at a time.
Needless to say, Grimme and Sidhe were not pleased when I came back to the manor after dropping out of classes and announcing my surprise engagement. I had told them that I was coming back to pick up my things and go live happily ever after. Or at least, that was the plan. Since they couldn't shake me of my strong desire to be with Bane for the rest of my life, they decided that they would host a formal wedding... With all the trimmings. When I turned twenty. Now that I look back, I am extremely grateful for what they did. After all, they were my caretakers, my protectors, my guardians... No, my parents.
About a week after I turned twenty, I had realized that I was not as in love with Bane as I thought I was. However, every time I tried to bring up the status of our engagement, he shrugged me off, as if the thought of it, and me, disgusted him. Still, the wedding had been planned, and I had gone through with it. I would continue to go through with it until the bitter end. During this time, Sidhe and Grimme had also given me my title as the seated noble of Undariel, placing me in charge as soon as I arrived back from my honeymoon. As a wedding gift, I was given a very unique, masterfully crafted dagger by my parents, with the message in mind being that I would know when to use such a ominous wedding present. Playing the role of happy newlyweds, Bane and I were spirited away to a cottage within the Stōen Woods, out of the eyes of the public, and away from prying ears. What happened there, stayed there... Until I came back alone.
After a few nights of great sex, we had gotten into a petty argument regarding the merging of Davenforth and Undariel. Words turned into anger, anger turned into actions, actions turned to violence. His father had planned my death by his son's hand during this time within the Stōen Woods, but I had the upper hand and the element of surprise on my side. As he came at me with his dagger, I took the hit within the chest, my non-beating heart clenching around the blade, and then proceeded to plunge my own wedding present into his stomach, twisting it and then jabbing upwards to hit all the vital organs needed to make him expire as quickly as possible.
I had encountered enough death to not collapse into an emotional mess and break down at my first kill, but when I had gotten back to Undariel, I locked myself up for weeks. They say the first murder is always the hardest, and they were right. Once I had gotten back onto my feet, I went to my seating ceremony, where I temporarily became a pincushion for several enchanted crossbow bolts. This was Azael's way of thanking me for killing his son, and this was his way of declaring war against me personally.
PLAYING WITH FIRE AND DANCING WITH DEATH
↪xxFor the most part, I had ignored Azael's little games: the back-stabbing merchant, the sword wielding mercenary, the fire-breathing Quixote, the subtle poisons in my food. I had ignored them until they started to target people other than me. During the time I had been dodging or absorbing assassination attempts, I was getting more suited to my role within society, and I was eventually issued an adviser. This adviser was familiar to me in many different ways, but I didn't know who he was until he spoke. Sidhe and Grimme had brought Mattheiu back to me. I would never let him know that I had been one of his patients, not until much later in our blooming relationship, but I knew he was a man I could trust for good advice and strategy.
After a year of secretly seeing one another, I had told him everything about myself that there was to tell, including the secret about how I was once a young, starry-eyed little girl who waited every day for the doctor in the beaked mask to come around and tell me stories whilst he plopped leeches upon my arms to drain the tainted blood from my body. This had been an error in my judgement, for the shock had pushed him away from me instead of draw him in closer for moments of reminiscence. He had blamed himself all these years, before and after his death, for my decline, and now, to see me here, in this state, as this new, very different person... It was a little more than he could handle. From time to time I see Matthieu, but I doubt he will ever see me the way he did before I told him who I was before death.
After Matthieu left the court, I was... Melancholy for the longest time, and my parents worried about me as I seemed to no longer have the fire that had fueled me into leading with gusto and resolve. I had become flaccid and weak, paling in comparison to when I had Mattheiu around to guide me in every way imaginable. I never knew I needed a companion so badly. Once again, Sidhe and Grimme intervened and sent me to Savivel to establish a connection with the Underlings. I was told to stay with their head shamaness, Amara Darrows, who was the 'noble' seat within this territory. As she taught me the ways of her people, she had introduced me to her son, Shaun. He... And the child we had together... Are another story for another time.
Shortly after that fiasco, I had underwent my rite of maturity at the age of twenty-three human years. The hundred or so years after that were work, work, work. I had even forgotten about Azael for awhile, and apparently, he forgot about me. Either that, or he couldn't afford to send more assassins after me for quite some time. Not until his coffers refilled, anyway. Between periods of work, I had gone back to school for maybe a year or two at a time, hoping to get a mastery of illusory and shadow magics. Although I didn't graduate, I did master the arts I wanted to, and was also taught how to open rifts within space and time to visit whichever realms I desired. If I yearned for Spain before or after the disasters that befell it, I could simply go back if I wanted to. Only for a short reprieve from my now very busy life.
On my hundred and fifteenth (human) birthday, I was sent to Valenoth to introduce myself to Caerne DeVior and his oldest son, Ivan. He was an asset, service, and lover that I will never regret meeting. Ivan had taught me the differences between pure, unbridled, carnal lust and actual affection and love. As our affair deepened, so did his openness to me, and his reasoning as to why we were to keep our romantic arrangement strictly physical. Reluctantly agreeing to this, I had made an ally of Valenoth between the sheets, making Azael absolutely livid. I also had a fleshcrafter on my side, and his services at my beck and call in exchange for the physical comfort Ivan so needed to expedite his mourning and grieving periods.
Azael's methods of killing me now became more sneaky, more underhanded, and less detectable. He used poisons that no longer tried killing living things, but sped up the rate of decomposition in my body. My person, which was once whole (I was maybe missing a small chunk of flesh here and there, but it wasn't as major as it is now), now started rotting away at an alarming rate. A chunk of my thigh vanished as the flesh-eating poison gnawed it tot he bone, leaving nothing but an uncomfortable breeze. For once in my life since killing Bane, I had started to panic. I called up Ivan for his services, trying to calmly explain the situation, but it was hard to do after the third or fourth dosage of poisoned food that had started eating away at my face.
Though Ivan did come to my rescue and stopped the poison from doing more damage, he was unable to reverse the effects. I would have to use my illusory magics to make myself appear whole for the sake of vanity, and I would have to become increasingly more paranoid. Everyone was now an enemy, everyone except for the small handful that I could trust: Matthieu, Shaun, Ivan, Sidhe, and Grimme. Ivan had also told me that it would be wise if I hired a bodyguard or a taste tester or if I even... Purchased a slave to do these things for me. I looked at him with a look of bewilderment. Slavery was barbaric, but he simply gave me an all-knowing look, as if he had been on both sides of the bars. The man is an enigma, but he seems to know what's best for me. Even Sidhe and Grimme had agreed with his proposal, and so... I went to a specialized realm that dealt in such dark and dastardly things, in hopes of finding the right creature to share myself with. After all, a bodyguard protects the body. Every inch of it.
↘↘ALEXI VAN DYKE |
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The Dyke Grenadier Captain
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