01. the basics

Breed: Vampire
Sub-Breed: American Saddlebred
Height: 14.3 hh
Eyes: Red When Hungry, Black When Starving, Soft Rose when normal
Pelt: Soft Creamy gray with dark grey at joints and around eyes
Markings: Dark Grey/Black around her eyes, Black 'tear tracks' down her cheeks from her eyes.
Hooves: deep wine
Mane: deep wine
Tail: deep wine
Other: Long ribbons tied in bows around her tail, and neck, as well as pendant hanging from neck, as well as golden chains.

02. the details

Once upon a time, Valan was a lady of elegance, with a soft buttercream body. So light it appeared milky. With locks of gently, tumbling magenta waves. But upon her second life. Waking that first time with an unfamiliar burn in her throat, Valan struggled for a long time to recognize herself. That buttercream hue had darkened, that magenta had darkened, she had darkened.

Today, thankfully Valan has come to find some surety in her pallette. She now will recognize the lock of wild hair as her own. The color of her eyes no longer startles her. She sees the Mare in the mirror as familiar. But has had a long time to get used to it as well.

Valan strikes a slender pose now. Long legged, thin, elegant. A lady of vlass and high society if you don't look to close. Her color has shifted to an almost mulberry grey, the slightest tint of fleshy pink in that grey hue, bit at her knees, the color marbles darker. To a warm charcoal that matches the shading around her eyes. The dyed tear treks down her cheeks. Looking closer you'll notice an odd adornment of almost cracks in her body, like a porcelain China doll that got tossed away by a fussing child. They cracked over her sides, hips, neck, forehead. But the most noticeable and deepest of them are at her chest, where the skin there is almost gold. Many of these cracks mark where she was stabbed in the chest by her husband on their wedding night, while others appeared later on.

Looking more you'll notice that rich, dark magenta that almost appears ruby under many lights. Valan herself prefers to call it 'Dark Wine' in color. It's dark and flashy on her hooves. It stains every wild, curled lock of hair as it tumbles down her neck. Or where her tail kisses the floor. The curls, the wild mess of locks seem almost alive in the way they move, they dance. Wild, free, alive in a way the maiden sporting them no longer is.

The eyes. They say eyes are the window to the souls which is no lie. As this mare definitely shows her emotion well, from the crinkle of her eyes when she smiles. To the tensing of features when upset. But more than anything you can read her hunger in her eyes, as they get darker. And darker. And darker. On a normal day her eyes are a pinkish red color. Typically the color associated with Rosé wine. The more thirsty she is. However. The darker her eyes go. To red when she's needing a quick nip, to black when she's Starving. Her eyes are lined with darkness, with 'tear tracks' of ebony dyed into her hide from the tears she had cried that night she had died.

Elegant, refined; this mare's mannerisms and the body language she uses also shows her stately upbringing. While it can seem foreign, or even old fashioned to some. The way she behaves, she was raised as a lady of the courts during the Renaissance time period. And while not the type to speak out of turn unless at home in the comfort of her coven's manor, don't assume she's not always watching. She is a very still, very poised lady, who always tries to look her best and be at her best. Her manners will never be found lacking in public.

03. the mutations

Once, coiling around her ears had been a set of silver ram horns. But during her transformation. Those horns have since straightened out. Shifting to a bone color. Jagged, sharp and slightly curling around themselves in aggressive twists up from her forehead.

04. the accessories

The most notable accessories are the ribbons. Long. Soft magenta that reminds her of what she once was. One is coiled around the base of her tail, tied in a bow with the long ribbons dangling along the tresses. The second is much more indepth, tied around her neck. It had a red pendant that hangs directly from the center of the bow. And two chains of small gold links dangle from the ribbon.

01. the basics

16 Personalities: ENFP-A
Big Five Personality: The Alchemist
DISC Placement: IC - Influence-Compliance
likes:

rainstorms & cloudy days
roses
driving her sire insane
meeting new individuals
Being social
gardening
going for adventures
compliments

dislikes:

cruelty from others
wife-beaters
sunlight
being by herself
threats to her loved ones
seeing others hurting/upset
being judged

positive traits:

extrovert, intuitive, feeling, prospecting, assertive, friendly, gregarious, excitement-seeking, cheerful, imaginative, artistic, emotional awareness, adventurous, intelligent, challenging authority, conscientious, self efficient, achievement-driven, will power, sympathetic

negative traits:

dramatic, lacks caution, no self-discipline, forgetful, easily distracted, irresponsible, scatter-brained, unforgiving, merciless, arrogant/vain, guarded, lacks trust, jaded, 'mask-wearing', hates to feel vulnerable, Lacks self-control,

Strengths:

charismatic
Peace-maker
Attentive

Weaknesses:

Easily Sidetracked
Family/Coven-Focused
Unforgiving, even to herself

Motivations:

Wants to help those who cannot help themselves
Living her life with out having to resort to killing
Figuring out where she should 'go' next.
Determination to not give into the 'darkness'.

02. The facade

Laughter echoes through the halls, soft giggles entice you from around the corner of large pillars. You approach her, and you notice the beautiful smiles, the batting of long, thick eyelashes over such soft, gentle rose eyes. She's soft, playful, coy without being too forward. She's clearly a lady of the courts, talented in her ability to work them without being improper. She's a demure smile from behind a fan, as her eyes watch you, enticing you forward, towards the wall she's a flower on. She pulls you in with that impossible warm and sweet rose-tinted gaze. It calls you forward, her presence naturally soft, reassuring, inviting. She bewitches you with soft touches, gentle whispers, and light, airy giggles. She certainly knows how to draw others in, how to make them comfortable, and you too fall yourself falling victim to those impossibly beautiful eyes.

The more time you spend with her, the more you notice she's coy, sassy, engaging. When she talks, others listen eagerly, and you too find yourself enraptured by the wit she colds behind her sweet, sweet smile; as well as the stories of her youth, the trouble she would get into. You feel as though these stories are incomplete, but her soothing presence erases such thoughts from your mind before you can really wonder about it. You don't notice, you don't want to notice where those stories lack details. Instead, you spend more time observing her - and that's when you notice she too is watched over. You mention it, and you're surprised to see her laugh, her gaze fond rather than upset, even as she describes herself as a kept treasure. The thought is concerning, but as she touches on more detail, you understand better. She's a loved family member, guarded, protected, watched over so she might live her life herself, yet still have back up if she needs it. She laughs, smiling and you can see she's not bothered to be watched, protected, kept; and that too sets you at ease. It's odd, but she seems to be happy.

She is attentive, friendly; always showering you with attention, and you feel special in her presence. She's kind and considerate, fetching you drinks, or refreshing your plate. You're so enamored by her attentiveness, her need to make sure you're off to a good place this evening, you don't notice that she doesn't seem keen to eat, that she only drinks from a chilled wine glass with a red, thick drink that is too thick to be wine. You do notice when it draws empty - asking if she needs another. She merely smiles pleasantly and assures you, only a special few have access to her brew. You feel like that makes her special, untouchable, and you suddenly feel like you're walking on air to be beside her.

You continue to relax in her warm presence, and you find yourself introduced to so many others, all eager to approach her. You soon realize she's not a wallflower, she's the belle of the ball. She's so well known, they are drawn to her, like moths to a flame. She doesn't need to be in the center of the dance floor, because the ballroom revolves around her, no matter where she stands. She doesn't seem to notice though, notice how others seem to want to get close to her. She tells you she's not a leader, and you want to scoff, as the others seem to hang onto her every word, look to her for guidance. She tells you, instead, she just likes to make friends, likes to see others happy. She likes the energies they produce when everyone's having fun. Again, the thought seems odd, but it barely has a moment to catch your attention before you're distracted by her again. She's so happy here, surrounded by so many others. She is warm, bright, so energetic, and like others before you, you've already become trapped by that vibrancy.

Another moth to her never ending flame.

03. The personality

Valan can sure put on a show, anyone who knows her can see that. She is so focused on making sure others are happy, others are settled, others are having a good time, that she can be forgetful about her own needs. She'll be so concerned with making sure others get food and drinks at a dance, she'll forget to have a sip of something to keep her own hunger in check. She'll become so enraptured in a new project, she'll forget to finish an old one. Her attention is fleeting, quickly moving between projects like a hummingbird dancing from flower to flower, and filled with the same amount of energy. This does mean she can be very forgetful, prone to being easily distracted, and unreliable to finish what she says she is going to do. However, don't assume that means she's unreliable with her promises. If there is one thing Valan will strive to always do, it keeps a promise. She knows how important that can be, and how a broken promise can change your whole outlook on life.

This mare is also the sort to surround herself with people. They might not be all her friends (though the ones she trusts are the ones kept closer to her person), she still likes to be among a lot of people. A lot of this, however, stems from a fear of being alone. Left, abandoned, forgotten, a trapped mare bleeding out on a wedding night, waiting for her husband to come to save her when instead he's washing the blood from his hooves, and setting the manor ablaze to hide his crimes.

Valan has significant worries and fears of the past repeating and being left, abandoned, and hurting with no one there to save her. For this reason, she isn't often seen away from her manor home, unless it's with multiple members of her coven out with her (though just her sire's presence alone can encourage her to go out and mingle with the mortals). She does prefer to be at home when she can, spending time with her loved ones and keeping them happy. She is far more attentive to their needs than another, and will even work as their conscience to keep them on a steady path that will cause less trouble for the whole.

Despite her vampiric nature now, Valan has a strict set of morals. Likely due to being raised in the Arthurian age, she isn't the sort to sit back and let someone act less than impressive. She expects stallions to be gentlemen, mares to be ladies. And she herself will represent what she expects to see. In this same method, Valan also holds herself to a strong set of morals - to the point she has not killed a single mortal since the day she murdered her former husband. She believes in keeping the peace between vampire and mortal - to the point she will put her glass of chilled blood to the side if it appears someone is deeply disturbed by it.

However, Valan isn't perfect, in fact; when you start to dig beneath the shell, you'll find those cracks in her body run more than cosmetic deep. Valan's heart is jaded, unreachable for true love, or at least, unreachable as far as she is concerned. She wishes that sort of happiness on others, but she believes she missed her chance so long, long ago, when her beloved gardener was murdered by the same stallion that tried to take her life, and nearly succeeded. While she feels everything with all her heart, and broadcasts it to the world, she has a very dark view on romance if asked for her personal appearance, and just what it can feel like. Ask for her advice, she will be supportive, ask her what love is, and you'll find where that darkness in her is.

That darkness exists in a swirling mess, and that is the best way into the tidal pool, but any time you start to poke the dragon, you'll find that there is a pit of fire in this little lady's soul. It's a writhing angry mass of inky tendrils, that hid her pain, heartache, and fear of everything that has come to pass in her long, long life. It's the writhing mess that turns the sweet mare into the wraith of a woman when you threaten those she cares about. It's what will cause one to flinch back in fear when they start to wake the sleeping dragon beneath the mask of a genial woman of class.

When those she loves are threatened, she rises up with vengeance. Hurt someone she cares about, she will not rest until revenge has been sealed. Purposely poke the beast, you'll find she won't hesitate to bite back. And in true beast form, when she bites, you'll find she's not about to let go. The darkness that swirls so deep beneath her pretty facade is always prodding, always waiting for her to release it, for it to embrace the otherwise kind, considerate female. And while she continues to fight, continues to deny her own healing, this mare will always have that darkness hoping to be able to take her over, corrupt her, destroy her, and everything she holds dear.

And perhaps, that is what scares her the most.

01. the basics

full name: Valantine De'Chrys
nickname: Valan
date of birth: Forgotten in Time [Immortal]
hometown: Gardium
occupation: citizen
financial status: upper class

02. the family

parents:

mother, Evangeline De'Chrs
father, Gunther De'Chrs

siblings:

Criston De'Chrs

children:

None.

other family:

TBD - Vampiric Sire - Head of her coven family

sexual orientation: demisexual
relationship status: here
current partner: None.
past partners:

Nikolai Rhome - Late Husband

03. youth

They say love is fleeting, a fanciful admiration that fades with time. Valan hadn't expected to fall for her best friend. Rafie had moved into her home after his father had passed away. His mother had disappeared after his birth, and his aunt was one of the maids in the manor. From that first week, Valan and Rafie were enseparable. Instant friends that bonded closer as time grew on.

What started as chasing each other through the gardens, soon turned into them snuggled beneath the trees, speaking quietly about plans for a future together. Whispered plans of running away together, promises of little children to keep them up at night; of loving each other for forever.

But Valan's life was not her own, and when the decree from her Uncle came about wanting her to marry a prince from a nearby kingdom, it was with fear that she met Nikolai. The Arranged Marriage was being planned at the same time as she and Rafie eloping. But Nikolai didn't make it easy.

He showered her with attention, wanted to spend every moment to get to know his future wife, "This amazing mare I'm enraptured by." Rafie was watching it all, had spoken of his concerns about pulling her away from a life she deserved. Queen of her own kingdom, taken care of, loved. She'd argued that Nikolai wasn't the one she loved, but a week before her planned wedding (and elopement with Rafie), Rafie disappeared.

The night before she was to be married, the night she was to meet with Rafie and run away together, she waited at their spot beneath the willow until dawn. He never showed. Returning to her room, a note was set on her pillow. Rafie's words. Of making the choice for her. Wanting her taken care of, where she deserved to be. Where she'd be happier. He had left her, left her to Nikolai.

04. the end

Her marriage was a sham. She stood mute, emotionless as she stared just beyond the preacher as the wedding began. She didn't hear the words, Nikolai's promises. She barely managed to whisper 'I do' during her part. Nikolai led her forward, as the new Lady Rhome, but even that felt like a sham, a joke.

The reception was filled with laughter and bright spirits. But Valan simply felt numb, empty, dead inside. She followed Nikolai from group to group, letting him do the talking for them, merely a pretty trinket at his side. His silent, victory prize. And the first shard of hate flamed in her heart. He had done this. No matter how fond of her he was, he chased away her Rafie.

Eventually, he seemed to take pity on her, and he excused them from the reception, laughing at the suggests of taking his new bride to bed. Suggestions that made Valan feel like she had a mouth full of ash. He motioned for her to head to the bed, as he freshened up. She silently laid down, looking up when he walked back in. "I'm sorry about Rafie, darling."

The way Nikolai's muzzle had twisted into a smirk had Valan's blood turning to ice, her eyes going wide. "Almost as sorry as I am that you won't be leaving this room." Valan didn't get a moment of warning when she felt that blade bite into her chest. She stared in shock at the handle protruding from her creamy fur before her gaze slowly rose back to her new husband as he pulled it free and watched her slump, the knife striking twice more as he spoke, "I was never here for a treaty, Dear Valan. But you are the treasured niece of the king. This is the start of war, sweetheart. Your death will do me so much good."

He stepped away, watching the bedding slowly turn to red as she quietly begged him to help her, before her voice desperately called for Rafie.

"Oh, darling, he won't hear you. I had dispose of him first. He figured out my plans . . . So of course I had to get rid of him." The tears that had refused to fall earlier now fell freely, streaking black eyeliner down her cheeks. Nikolai clicked a lighter, letting some cloth start to burn, before he tossed it to the corner of the room, "Farewell, my wife. I hope you die quickly." He laughed as he walked out, locking the door behind him, leaving her bleeding to death in a burning room.

05. the turning

The fire was quickly over taking the room, as Valan was left to die. Her breath was ragged, her vision blurring, starting to go black around the edges. Smoke was making it difficult for her to cry out, but it didn't stop her from trying, weakly pleading for someone- anyone- to help her. As her vision grew darker, and darker, and darker still; she felt like this was it, the end, nothing else to come from it. She was about to feel the final clench of icy death. And she prayed it would take her before the flames did.

Tears smudged the dark make up on her face, the dark streams of ash and ebony making marks down her cheeks, as her eyes slid shut, her breath shuttered,. Praying now for a quick death, a fast one, as the heat began to lick at her limp body. And then she heard it. A soft whisper. Her eyes blinked open weakly, seeing soft, pale gold hair swaying in front of her vision. And then she felt something sharp to her neck, a whispered apology.

The cold taking her over was suddenly replaced with fire. It raced through her, searing her veins, causing her heart to suddenly begin to pump faster, faster, as if trying dreadfully to get something out of her body. She felt herself lifted as screams rang through her ears - barely registering they were her own. The pain was all consuming, and she couldn't focus on anything else.

It felt like the pain would never stop, every time it faded, it would surge back up with a vengeance, until suddenly she sat up. Her eyes blinked against the too bright light coming from a nearby window. She withdrew from the brightness, as she looked around in confusion, trying to figure out what had happened, why she was alive, how she was alive. Wild curls, far wilder than normal, fell into her eyes and she batted them away with a shake of her head as she saw a mirror and slowly approached it.

The face that stared back at her was not her own. Gone was the soft yellow-hued flesh, and in its place was gray and creams. The black streaks down her cheeks remained, and she quickly tried to rub them off, only to be alarmed to find them stained into her pelt, as stained as the darkness around her . . . her red eyes? She fumbled back, stumbling over her hooves as she suddenly fell back against the bed she woke in. Red eyes. And . . . where those fangs? She could feel a sudden burning in her throat now as well.

And then the door opened. She spun towards the golden stallion standing there, and it took a moment for her to recognize him. How could she not, she'd seen him in many of the formal events her father had held. His own fangs flashed with his smile, and slowly he took to explaining what had happened, how she was almost dead when he had finally found her, how he hadn't had a choice.

Valan was silent as he told her the condition he'd found her in, and her mind brought back those memories. Of being told Rafie was already dead. Of Nikolai stabbing her multiple times. She glanced down at the golden-hued scar on her chest, where the knife had sliced through her like butter. Her gaze grew hard, her fangs gnashing together, "Where is my husband, I think it is time I called upon the stallion." She didn't notice the delight in the stallion's eyes, but she did see it when it grew, as she asked; "In fact, did you save my wedding attire. Let's see how he feels when his wife comes back from the dead."

It didn't take long, that very night she was slipping into the room, seeing Nikolai sleeping peacefully among the silks and satins, as if he hadn't killed her, or tried to kill; did turning into a vampire count as a success? She slowly climbed onto the bed, her red eyes glowing in the moonlight as he jolted awake and stared up at her in horror, "Hello, husband. Did you miss me? It's been . . . so cold lately. I've been . . . so cold . . ." Her words were whispered so softly as she leaned towards him.

Nikolai jumped away, heart hammering so loud Valan could hear it, she could see each pulse beneath his skin, "V-Valan . . . You should be . . . you . . . I . . ."

Valan's smile turned sister, "You killed me, or tried to." She agreed, flashing a smile that was full of fang, "But, dear husband; allow me to educate you in how to do it properly." She lunged before he could scream, tearing into him with a vengeance partially fed by her own hunger; and partially fed by her anger.

He would be her first and only kill, his blood mixing with where her blood had stained her veil, her wedding dress. She slid from the bed, leaving his body to be found; as she headed out of the room, carefully climbing up the roof from the window - to where her sire waited. She smiled beautifully, eyes twinkling, "He won't hurt anyone else . . . and my throat no longer burns!" She declared, her voice much lighter, much brighter.

They didn't stay around, however, and before she knew it, her master was leading her to a new town, and then a new town again. Over and over, and over again. Always moving on when someone realized neither of them were aging. Until finally it was nothing more than a constant sway and tug off life. She grew tired, she grew so tired. And so, her master allowed her to sleep, promising to wake her when it was time.

06. the reawakening

Valan had been sleeping for hundreds upon hundreds of years, lapsed into a state of hibernation, her roses feeding her drops of blood from any random passerby that got stuck on their thorns. Until finally her master returned, and it was a weary exhaustion that she was pulled from her slumber, her eyes blinking slowly before smiling up at the familiar handsome face as he instructed her that she'd slept more than long enough, "If I let you sleep for any longer, you'll be more beautiful than me." He'd told her as she was pulled up, swaying on limbs that hadn't unfolded for so long.

And as she sipped on the goblet of O negative placed in front of her, the world welcomed another vampire back into their numbers, even if this one was not at all like any of the others that have been introduced into the world.

Rosario - Rose Spirit Bonded

Rosario is the name gifted to a massive colony of hive-minded rose vines, that is bonded to Valan. The primary 'mind' consists of the vines twining around her body, with smaller vines all interconnected mentally. Extremely secretive, but extremely cuddly with Valan, the Rose Spirit within the hive-minded rose vines is dutifully protective, attentive, and devoted to Valan.

04. the accessories

The most notable accessories are the ribbons. Long. Soft magenta that reminds her of what she once was. One is coiled around the base of her tail, tied in a bow with the long ribbons dangling along the tresses. The second is much more indepth, tied around her neck. It had a red pendant that hangs directly from the center of the bow. And two chains of small gold links dangle from the ribbon.