In body, she is a hybrid. The workings of an equine and a donkey, built slender and curvy in all the right places. In essence, she is favorable in the eyes of those seeking beauty. They are not disappointed by what they glance at. There is a darkness to her that those admire and lust after. It has little to do with her coloring though.

Even as a child, she had the galaxy in the palm of her hand.

The stars bless her coat with silver flecking against a dark background. She is both ebony and a dusty rose in places. Feathering etches her hooves, longer than her short coat. It is oddly charming, these ‘wings’. With a long mane oft tied up or hidden, one single strand peeks its way through. Her tail is held high and sweeping, giving her an air of quiet confidence.

Salome has some accents to her features that some do not dwell on for long. The biggest are her eyes, for she averts them profoundly around new folks. They do not get her looking at them for long. A shame, for they are truly lovely. She boasts silver orbs with rose background and long lashes. Her ears are long, per her species.

The biggest aspect of her are her fangs. They are not so much retractable as they are consciously tucked away under her lips. They have the capability to be seen by others if she isn’t careful hiding them. Akin to a stereotype; they are vampiric in nature.

Once upon a time, there was a girl with such life. Events happened to sweep her into oblivion, wherein only the dark would touch her. The result is the beast standing before you today; beautiful but clever. Displaced from the world, but aware of it. But content? Never. To be content would admit defeat. She is ever watchful, ever cautious and conscious of her place in the world. Salome fancies herself a survivor, but the adrenaline has left her. She is now a husk of herself, a body making plain effort to live half a life.

Salome is a smart woman. She knows when to speak and when to listen. She knows when to defer to others’ judgements. She is complacent and submissive in nature, battling her own inner demons. Too lofty to express actual emotion toward another’s. Aloof and almost deadpan, Salome flickers through Novus on a whim. If she gets curious about something, she wants to learn all she can. But even then, she can lose interest easily and move onto the next “big” thing. She is happy enough being there, in the background and not contributing much.

To those that break her shell, they would find her to be a tragedy. It would be a kindness to end her suffering, though they may have grown too attached to her to do such a thing. Salome is quietly making jokes about death to the point of having an obsession with dying. It is almost suicidal. She hates herself. She hates what she has become. There still exists the little girl that loves life, and she is aware to survive she must drink from it. Sometimes she cannot even control her lust, ending in death.

There are never any happy endings for vampires.

But she did grow attached to one person in particular. A young stallion around her age, a constant companion for the years to come. His name was Gareth. She was drawn to his maturity and duty to learn. As she was taught how to divine fortunes, Gareth brought her with him to hunt for medicines. When she could not sleep because her studies were too loud in her mind, it was Gareth that tended to her. He was gentle and kind, and she was silly and oblivious. To others in the herd, his affections may be clear. To Salome, he would always be the silly little boy that made her laugh where others could not.

Their adventures aside, it was near their third year that the elders and her parents convened. Having finished training, Salome was ready to continue her line. This meant marriage and children, in hopes of passing along her gift. All to make her herd strong in the eyes of their gods, she was told. Ever an obedient one, she accepted this. Salome’s eyes would stray to Gareth, perhaps hoping in some way that he’d rescue her. That perhaps he’d speak up for her, whisk her away to the mountains where they could live in peace. No responsibilities. No duties. It was a silly dream for a silly girl. He did not speak up. It broke her heart.

Suitors would come, charmed by rumor. But it was a constant customer of Salome’s that broke through. Earning a modest income with her fortune telling, the herd lived comfortably. But the dowry on her would last them for years. They sought to pair her with a rich man, and a rich man did come. He came at night, as always. But this time he came for her hand in marriage. Charmed by the fortune teller, he produced enough coin to buy anything he wanted and what he wanted was her. Unable to refuse, the elders accepted. Feeling this man would put their estranged daughter up for life, her parents agreed. She was given away in a quiet ceremony.

And after that, she was taken away.

Salome would forever keep the music box. It was a gift from Gareth and even though her new husband looked at it in quiet jealousy, he did not protest. Leaving the lands of Novus behind, she was dignified in her goodbyes. Ready to start her new life, she followed dutifully. It was perhaps strange, even looking back, that they traveled at night. That they ate at night. That they only spoke at night. She only saw her husband at night. He would come to her with gentleness that she didn’t care what time of day it was. It could be worse. She could have been given to a brute. Salome almost pitied her husband. He seemed so starved for attention, so desperate for company…

But even though he was gentle toward her, Salome did not love him. She almost hated him, and that hate only grew in the years together. He did not allow her to go out by herself. He was jealous of other men paying her attention. She felt suffocated. The first time he bit her was painful. It was their first anniversary together and he was perhaps a little tough. She thought it was what husbands did to share a more passionate affection but -

It happened more frequently.

Salome de la Rosa stopped aging at five years. She could feel the blood stop, her heart slow and her mind sharpening. She could see the colors in every being, even though most of the time that hue was red. Her husband fed on her as long as he could before submitting to desire. He turned her into what he had become centuries ago. He wanted a companion. He was lonely, you see, but it didn’t stop her from hating him. He could justify it any way he wanted, the vampire robbed her of her life. She hated him as much as she hated herself.

And she could not kill him, for her was her maker. This only made her get clever.

Seducing a young lad while her husband was away, she whispers sweet nothings in his ear. ”We could be together, if that old man was out of the picture..” she would say to her lover. The young lad is strong and able of body. She has made a good choice, especially when he bests the old bloodsucker in combat. Slaying him was easy. Killing the lad was easier when his back was turned. She found she could never hurt anyone from the front. It was too messy and she saw their eyes. She saw their life. She envied it.

Returning to Novus for the first time in eons, she travels at night. She sleeps during the day. She wakes at night. She feeds at night. And perhaps she looks for the boy she had loved during her wanderings. Salome has kept his music box; it is a reminder of bitter things. She does not allow herself to forget, no matter how much she ages.