Post by Bella on Jul 3, 2006 2:12:37 GMT -5
Name: isabella vittoria
Nicknames: bella
Age: 406
Birthday: april 25
House(if applicable):
Year(if applicable):
Zodiac Sign: aries
Hair: long, wavy locks of grey-streaked pink
Eyes: grey-streaked pink
Skin: very, very pale
Height: 6'
Body Type: voluptuous
Blood Type: preferably a, although a victim's blood type is not important =P
Bloodline: nephilim
Tattoos, Piercings, Etc black rose dripping red on the top of her right thigh, both ear lobes pierced once, right cartilage pierced, left eyebrow pierced
Likes: kidnapping, tricking men, playing with children
Dislikes: interruptions to her games
Hopes, Dreams, Goals: finding love in the hands of a mortal...or possibly just a few nights of torture before he dies
Fears: what lays beyond life
Skills in Magic:[/s][/color]
Problems in Magic:[/s][/color]
all bella's magic is from within, no wand involved. her specialties are wind and air
Personality: tricky, vindictive, and constantly sensual, bella has nothing more than raw desire and wicked wit
Relationship Status:[/s][/color]
Friends: only other nephilim are true friends
Acquaintances: various students and teachers of no importance
Enemies: all who try to end the fun
Rivals: none to date
Crushes: if by crush, this means having a strong desire to kidnap and keep a person, then protégé
Crushes on him/her: anyone who lays eyes on her ^_^
Quirks, Bad Habits, Pet Peeves: erm...kidnapping?
Favorite Food: children
Favorite Color: scathing hot pink
Favorite Animal:[/s][/color]
Favorite Quidditch Position:
Favorite Quidditch Team:[/s][/color]
Favorite Quidditch Player:[/s][/color]
Favorite Season: winter
Favorite Sport:
Favorite Flower: venus fly-trap (haha)
Favorite Book: count of monte cristo
Favorite Movie:[/s][/color]
Favorite Song: where'd you go-fort minor (haha)
Pets:[/s][/color]
Broom(if applicable):
Heros:[/s][/color]
Interests: playing games. kidnapping. all been said before
Family
Father: arch-angel kabriel
Mother: marie espinoti
Siblings:[/s][/color]
History: many, many years of wandering, living of nothing but pure joy and humans. has now come to settle near the university at the alcázar del nosferatu
Threads I’m In:
paying respect
lonely
happy un-birthday
My Favorite Posts: A sudden gust of wind whipped through the crypt, icy cold as if come from beyond the grave. Atop a single gravestone, like a statue in itself perched a figure, cold and beautiful. Its foot swung back and forth, seemingly passing right through the gravestone it sat upon. The cold wind circled the figure, ruffling its wavy, layered locks as if begging for it to come play. The hair which it ruffled was incredibly odd, and yet somehow incredible, its pink and grey streaks giving hint to something beyond human. Its eyes, the third part of its body to move were storm grey streaked with pink lightening. The body was voluptuous, lithe, like a dancer's, the clothing low-necklined, short-bottomed, and black. This particular day it was a dress, skintight with ripples at the bottom.
The muscles of the moving leg seemed to be perpetually contracted beneath a tattoo of a black rose dripping red high on the thigh. The moonlight shimmered off garnet earrings, which seemed to reflect light onto a gold spiral hanging from the right cartilage. On the left eyebrow was a golden half moon kept in place by garnets attatched to either side. All in all the figure glittered, sparkled, and enticed, something breath-taking to be admired. Its eyes, which had wandered the span of the crypt now set upon the only other breathing thing in the room. A question fell into those stormy eyes, and the figure took life.
A breath of warm air fogged the wind around Bella, who was watching the boy standing before the biggest grave. She had felt for the nearest form of death and transported herself there, but she didn't expect this exceptional treat. A living boy. Charming. With a smooth push of her hands, Bella landed on the point of her left foot with an arch any ballerina would envy. Bringing her foot flat, she began an easy gait through the maze, eyes and heart set on the boy. Such green eyes and dirty blonde hair simply had to be admired.
"Good evening," Bella whispered, her full, pink lips barely moving. With each word, the air seemed to warm, the breeze dispelling more and more. "Is it not late for a-" she checked her use of the word "child"- "young teenager such as yourself to be about?" For all Bella knew, the sun could be up outside, but here, in the crypt, it was forever night, a fact to which Bella knew to be true. Still she whispered, her voice like a cool breeze on the hottest of days. "I came to visit the grave of my cousin." Such a complete lie, and yet if a lie detector were set, the words would ring true. "And expected no other to be here."
Having reached the last row of tombs before Salazar's, Bella allowed her legs to artfully crumple, leaving her atop a grave. "After all, one would not think to find a boy of your age dwelling upon death, when there is so much more to be seen of life." She smiled, and it was a perfect come-hither smile, just enough teeth showing. "I am Bella-Isabella Vittoria." She bowed, an odd contortion in one seated, yet it seemed both graceful and elegant when she did it. Her right leg crossed over the left, displaying the rose tattoo much better. "It is a pleasure to come upon you this night."
Dark, cold and misty was the bar of Darkburough, but perchance that was just how the wizards who owned the place wanted it. The mist was an obvious spell, and the cold had to be, as the sun outside beat down with force upon the dusten road that led to the rather large bar. The doors were wooden, keeping out the intense sun glare and small wild beasts that roamed the woods beyond. The windows were tinted darkly of the color blue, so that what little light did enter drenched cut-out squares in a watery cast. The bar itself was in wonderful condition, and was frequented by wizards and witches both from the university near-by and the other shops of Drakborough, in to wipe clean their grungy day. Occasionally, when time and circumstances permitted, something else would enter the bar. Something a bit more, dangerous.
Today one such visitor found herself there, seated in the center of a dark blue sqaure, her pink-streaked gray hair taking on a purple-blue hue. Her eyes were a soft cloud grey, their deapths wound with the same shade pink as twined through her hair. Her nails were a deep maroon, the fingers occasionally showing a ring of onyx or garnet. Around her throat was a choker set with a strange, celtic design, her pierced ears showing a smaller version. At the cartilage of her right ear was a small pink hoop, and in the eyebrow of the left was its match. Her body was wrapped in a skin-tight, spaghetti strap dress of the deepest crimson, her feet sporting tall heels of the very same color. With the heels, standing, the woman would be 6'4" easy, without them she was a touch over 6 feet. Since the dress only reached her thighs, a tattoo of a black rose dripping red could be seen on the side of her thigh. All in all, it was obvious this was a vain woman who enjoyed to be noticed.
And indeed, noticed Bella was as people stared at her lithe, voluptuous body in passing. Mesmerized by her very presence, they lost seconds, minutes of their lives watching the beautiful creature barely move, but as of yet, not a single one had dared approach her, not even the waitor, who spared but a passing glance that he all but forced away each time he passed. Was no wizard or witch in the entire bar brave?
Bella watched the waiter pass by her once, twice, thrice. Finally, on the fourth pass she reached out a delicate hand and held her nail steady. The man's arm brushed its entire length across her nail as he walked, and suddenly he shuddered, stopped in his tracks. "Mister?" Bella's soft voice was like liquid honey, and the man turned, eyes wide. "A butterbear, if you don't mind." She smiled, much as a cat must smile at a mouse, and the waiter scurried away as one, forgetting all else in the order of the creature's drink. Returned to her statue state, only Bella's eyes moved, taking in the other guests. Bravery? Non. She needed a miracle to get one of these to talk to her.
Nicknames: bella
Age: 406
Birthday: april 25
Zodiac Sign: aries
Hair: long, wavy locks of grey-streaked pink
Eyes: grey-streaked pink
Skin: very, very pale
Height: 6'
Body Type: voluptuous
Blood Type: preferably a, although a victim's blood type is not important =P
Bloodline: nephilim
Tattoos, Piercings, Etc black rose dripping red on the top of her right thigh, both ear lobes pierced once, right cartilage pierced, left eyebrow pierced
Likes: kidnapping, tricking men, playing with children
Dislikes: interruptions to her games
Hopes, Dreams, Goals: finding love in the hands of a mortal...or possibly just a few nights of torture before he dies
Fears: what lays beyond life
all bella's magic is from within, no wand involved. her specialties are wind and air
Personality: tricky, vindictive, and constantly sensual, bella has nothing more than raw desire and wicked wit
Friends: only other nephilim are true friends
Acquaintances: various students and teachers of no importance
Enemies: all who try to end the fun
Rivals: none to date
Crushes: if by crush, this means having a strong desire to kidnap and keep a person, then protégé
Crushes on him/her: anyone who lays eyes on her ^_^
Quirks, Bad Habits, Pet Peeves: erm...kidnapping?
Favorite Food: children
Favorite Color: scathing hot pink
Favorite Season: winter
Favorite Flower: venus fly-trap (haha)
Favorite Book: count of monte cristo
Favorite Song: where'd you go-fort minor (haha)
Interests: playing games. kidnapping. all been said before
Family
Father: arch-angel kabriel
Mother: marie espinoti
History: many, many years of wandering, living of nothing but pure joy and humans. has now come to settle near the university at the alcázar del nosferatu
Threads I’m In:
paying respect
lonely
happy un-birthday
My Favorite Posts: A sudden gust of wind whipped through the crypt, icy cold as if come from beyond the grave. Atop a single gravestone, like a statue in itself perched a figure, cold and beautiful. Its foot swung back and forth, seemingly passing right through the gravestone it sat upon. The cold wind circled the figure, ruffling its wavy, layered locks as if begging for it to come play. The hair which it ruffled was incredibly odd, and yet somehow incredible, its pink and grey streaks giving hint to something beyond human. Its eyes, the third part of its body to move were storm grey streaked with pink lightening. The body was voluptuous, lithe, like a dancer's, the clothing low-necklined, short-bottomed, and black. This particular day it was a dress, skintight with ripples at the bottom.
The muscles of the moving leg seemed to be perpetually contracted beneath a tattoo of a black rose dripping red high on the thigh. The moonlight shimmered off garnet earrings, which seemed to reflect light onto a gold spiral hanging from the right cartilage. On the left eyebrow was a golden half moon kept in place by garnets attatched to either side. All in all the figure glittered, sparkled, and enticed, something breath-taking to be admired. Its eyes, which had wandered the span of the crypt now set upon the only other breathing thing in the room. A question fell into those stormy eyes, and the figure took life.
A breath of warm air fogged the wind around Bella, who was watching the boy standing before the biggest grave. She had felt for the nearest form of death and transported herself there, but she didn't expect this exceptional treat. A living boy. Charming. With a smooth push of her hands, Bella landed on the point of her left foot with an arch any ballerina would envy. Bringing her foot flat, she began an easy gait through the maze, eyes and heart set on the boy. Such green eyes and dirty blonde hair simply had to be admired.
"Good evening," Bella whispered, her full, pink lips barely moving. With each word, the air seemed to warm, the breeze dispelling more and more. "Is it not late for a-" she checked her use of the word "child"- "young teenager such as yourself to be about?" For all Bella knew, the sun could be up outside, but here, in the crypt, it was forever night, a fact to which Bella knew to be true. Still she whispered, her voice like a cool breeze on the hottest of days. "I came to visit the grave of my cousin." Such a complete lie, and yet if a lie detector were set, the words would ring true. "And expected no other to be here."
Having reached the last row of tombs before Salazar's, Bella allowed her legs to artfully crumple, leaving her atop a grave. "After all, one would not think to find a boy of your age dwelling upon death, when there is so much more to be seen of life." She smiled, and it was a perfect come-hither smile, just enough teeth showing. "I am Bella-Isabella Vittoria." She bowed, an odd contortion in one seated, yet it seemed both graceful and elegant when she did it. Her right leg crossed over the left, displaying the rose tattoo much better. "It is a pleasure to come upon you this night."
Dark, cold and misty was the bar of Darkburough, but perchance that was just how the wizards who owned the place wanted it. The mist was an obvious spell, and the cold had to be, as the sun outside beat down with force upon the dusten road that led to the rather large bar. The doors were wooden, keeping out the intense sun glare and small wild beasts that roamed the woods beyond. The windows were tinted darkly of the color blue, so that what little light did enter drenched cut-out squares in a watery cast. The bar itself was in wonderful condition, and was frequented by wizards and witches both from the university near-by and the other shops of Drakborough, in to wipe clean their grungy day. Occasionally, when time and circumstances permitted, something else would enter the bar. Something a bit more, dangerous.
Today one such visitor found herself there, seated in the center of a dark blue sqaure, her pink-streaked gray hair taking on a purple-blue hue. Her eyes were a soft cloud grey, their deapths wound with the same shade pink as twined through her hair. Her nails were a deep maroon, the fingers occasionally showing a ring of onyx or garnet. Around her throat was a choker set with a strange, celtic design, her pierced ears showing a smaller version. At the cartilage of her right ear was a small pink hoop, and in the eyebrow of the left was its match. Her body was wrapped in a skin-tight, spaghetti strap dress of the deepest crimson, her feet sporting tall heels of the very same color. With the heels, standing, the woman would be 6'4" easy, without them she was a touch over 6 feet. Since the dress only reached her thighs, a tattoo of a black rose dripping red could be seen on the side of her thigh. All in all, it was obvious this was a vain woman who enjoyed to be noticed.
And indeed, noticed Bella was as people stared at her lithe, voluptuous body in passing. Mesmerized by her very presence, they lost seconds, minutes of their lives watching the beautiful creature barely move, but as of yet, not a single one had dared approach her, not even the waitor, who spared but a passing glance that he all but forced away each time he passed. Was no wizard or witch in the entire bar brave?
Bella watched the waiter pass by her once, twice, thrice. Finally, on the fourth pass she reached out a delicate hand and held her nail steady. The man's arm brushed its entire length across her nail as he walked, and suddenly he shuddered, stopped in his tracks. "Mister?" Bella's soft voice was like liquid honey, and the man turned, eyes wide. "A butterbear, if you don't mind." She smiled, much as a cat must smile at a mouse, and the waiter scurried away as one, forgetting all else in the order of the creature's drink. Returned to her statue state, only Bella's eyes moved, taking in the other guests. Bravery? Non. She needed a miracle to get one of these to talk to her.