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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2016 5:15:39 GMT
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[attr="class","ilbgdtraits1"]Upir
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits2"]mercenary
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits3"]90s (looks 25)
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits1"]Single
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits2"]Hayley Atwell
[attr="class","ilbgdtraits3"]Noe
HAZEL ADLER
[attr="class","dropfrumbodytxt"]PERSONALITY:
[If you know my name, then you should know I don’t play by anyone’s rules.]
━ From the day her mother was taken from her duty, she knew her pregnancy would have a negative effect on her. As someone who served as a soldier, a female soldier, shoving the soundless words that threatened to leave the soldiers' mouths, she was doomed to fall when she first caught the demanding gaze of a man among the crew. Her birth did not cause a special trigger, such as flowers blossoming or petals of roses falling to the ground, pooling around her crying mother's shelter.
She was graced with the remarkable beauty of her mother, mixed with her youth and her father's outstanding charm. Her innocence stood among the peers, her soft heart and outgoing personality drew people in rather than pushing them far off her. She shone like a diamond in the making, among the dust and the dark stones.
The intelligence of her parents seeped into her living form as a child, she quickly understood a lot of situations and grew up searching for certain herbs to help her father make an effective medicine to the wounded. As a human, Hazel was merely a flower standing in front of the wind, hopeless against the powerful wind. And soon, her own petals fell.
Upon becoming an upir, Hazel drastically changed. Maybe her good traits remained carved into her body, unshakeable. Her innocence was rudely taken by the rough circumstances, her beauty fooled people, lured them in. She was truly charming without even attempting to be. Becoming a monster made her feel more courageous. It pushed her over the limits, over that white line she drew as a child, merely taking words from her parents to make them come true. Many times Hazel stood to sick monsters, not ones with fangs and thirst for blood - but ones who saw women as a tool to be fooled with.
After being taken in by Mathias, a man with a cruel heart, Hazel, too, became cruel. Her heart darkened by the grasping hands of the man. It was a dark period in her life where she truly stripped the red curtains and reveled in the monster that he was creating. In no time, Hazel became a ticking bomb. Sharpened into a perfect tool for brutal usage. It was quite obvious when her vengeance sparked through her actions, the screams of mercy rang through her ears and was the last thing she heard until she opened her eyes to found herself warming up underneath a comforter. Taken in by a strange woman with her strange sense of loyalty and acceptance, Hazel adopted a long case of being deceitful in order to protect the other, purposefully escaping the lights to assure that Bridgette, the human, remained safe and that her own presence did not shorten her lifespan.
HISTORY:
[Darling, life is cruel and tough, but so are you.]
Life ticked by like a bomb, waiting for the moment it would explode. Either it would take away an unprepared soldier or a person fully accepting their approaching death. The moment a strap of a gun would latch onto their shoulder like a monster with bare teeth, latched onto the weak skin of their shoulders, their lifespand immediately begins to grow short with each step in the mud they take. Speaking of such, a woman grew up in tough place, roughly raised by a man who'd lost his wife during a war after giving birth to a hopeless child who was only one year old. That was Embra, Hazel's mother. She was trained to be a soldier, to follow the footsteps of her father. Being a female did not bother the woman as she focused on her own task of saving what was left of her people - or try, at least.
But falling in love with one of the soldiers was the least of her expectations. Falling in love meant giving away her weapon, giving away her job. Having a child within her womb meant giving up her world to take care of that little child. It meant being helpless. Some might imagine it would be an easy thing to do for the sake of a child, but for Embra, it was the hardest thing to do. Especially when her father was killed in action. Letting her vengeance slide in hopes of giving birth to the child. Her husband took place in the war and left her behind to weep, already shoved with the belief that her husband would not return in one piece.
Her mother took the rough pain of birth, especially around June 1st, 1910. A round of cries was heard, immediately soothed by the presence of her mother as her tears stopped streaming down her cheeks. Not only did she bare the pain of birth, but she took the pain of losing her husband in action. A man who died before he could see the face of his little angel. Beforehand, they both discussed a name and without hesitation, Embra named the little girl Hazel Adler, a profound name, hand-picked by her father, a distant reminder of his dead mother. Either he wanted her presence to soothe him or he wanted his daughter to be as beautiful and youthful as his own mother was in her early days as they usually discussed that over a simple meal of bread and exchanged water.
As she grew older, she saw people get lost in war for as long as she could remember. Her own father counted as one of them. The pain she saw in her mother's eyes and the screams of the mourning mothers attaching a piece of clothing, dirty and stained with blood of the fallen soldier as the messanger comes to deliver what was left of the fallen soldier. War was cruel. It became too much for her when one of her family members went to war and never made it home. More grief was shoved down their shoulders as the adults of the family committed their life to war and perhaps their deaths would be remembered over a simple shared story at a bonfire as the fire eats away their bodies.
Hazel wanted it all to stop. The pain and the screams. As the wounded increased, she finally took what she learned from her father and brought it to life. Learning much more from the other doctors and nurses running here and there to aid the weakened, Hazel was graced with the ability to sooth the fallen victims and perhaps lead them to the other side with the last thing they see would be her gentle smile. She saved a few, but she also remembered her mother's words, the tough rule of this universe.
You cannot save everyone, dear.
She opted to save at least a very few among the other nurses. She hated seeing people get hurt, so she became determined to contribute to the service in the war. When she was around 25, she became a nurse, and was sent over to Italy in 1942, during WWII. And that was when she met a certain soldier, who went by the name of Tobias Donovan. Oh, he was certainly a curious creature, always walking around with that guarded look in his eyes and the soft, gentle voice he spoke with. He looked kind, but at the same time, there was something dangerous about him. Mysterious. Love at first sight, as cheesy as it sounds, but that was exactly what it was. She kept talking to him, trying to pull him out of his shell, and shared stories of her own home and family. And soon, she was able to make him laugh and smile, a rare sight to see since he was usually always so serious, acting as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Hazel loved the way his face lit up whenever that gorgeous smile graced his lips. Everyone in the camp could see that she was a good influence on him, and had made bets on whether or not Tobias would ask her to marry him before the war ended.
That never happened, of course, as one of the wounded soldiers, an upir, had happened to feed upon her while she was attending to him in one of the emergency tents. As he attacked Hazel, the poor dying nurse had swallowed some of his blood-which was more than enough to turn her-and she was left for dead, with her clothes stained with her own blood. Toby found her and thought she had died, since she wasn’t breathing and her body had grown cold. So he had buried her, thinking she was dead. But she was more than dead. She was the undead. The next thing Hazel knew, she was crawling out of the dirt, gasping as her throat burned of a thirst. A thirst for blood. Around the first few days of her begin as an Upir, Mathias, a man with the sharpest eyesight and dark hair spotted Hazel almost dead on the side of the street. Knowing exactly what he was seeing, he took her into his shelter among the other men in there, looking like a group of hungry wolves, was about to feast upon the fallen woman, but Mathias, unlike himself, stepped in and stopped them from going near her. He grew attached, more likely obsessed over Hazel and her sleeping form. Almost peaceful, letting her beauty become outstanding. Choosing to let her live rather than pathetically die, he ordered his men to grab a random person for Hazel to feed upon.
The crimson's scent as the sound of it dripping on the ground was more than enough to pull her from her long slumber and immediately, her eyes shifted into a pitch black color, resembling to one of a monster. Much to the others' dismay as they'd thought of her as a weak human. She mercilessly fed on a human until the point of being dried out of blood. It was Mathias who took her away.
He seemed like a good person at first, but that was him sneaking his way into her heart. Sneaking his way to claim her trust so he could manipulate her, so he could adjust her and take away her innocence. Years passed as Hazel grew under his care, he was a huge negative influence on her. If he did something bad, she would be around the corner doing the same thing. Blood became an addiction, but so was taking what was not theirs.
Victim after another, Hazel was ruthless and brutal, just the way he wanted her to be. Thoughtless and less latched onto her humanity. Breath corrupted by the metallic scent of blood, lungs damaged by the overflow of blood, hands more likely tainted red that she was no longer able to tell the difference, whether it was her own or someone else's. Sharpened into the perfect tool for brutal usage by the manipulative asshole, the same ticking bomb he spent a lot of time building twisted upon them and soon Hazel was snapping out of his manipulation, only ninety-seven years later. When she was already gone.
"Didn't you know, darling? You can never tame evil."
It was high unlikely for Hazel to survive against Mathias, but she made sure to kill his men first, turned against them and hunted them down. Mathias left her with a great nightmare where he was suddenly gone and no trace of blood to follow him with. He was gone, but to add more spice, he was still alive. Hazel woke up with an odd feeling of something being placed upon her, it was a warm comforter and soon, her nostrils flared when she smelled the outstanding scent of a human. It was a young woman, known as Bridgette. A woman with such a caring heart and also trusting to bring a woman with blood tainting her shirt into her own household.
Soon enough, Hazel gained her strength back and stepped into a dangerous line of being a mercenary, but thanks to what Mathias had done to her, she was just a perfect weapon for getting things done. Maintaing a secret friendship with the female where she had to lie about almost everything, but deep inside, she knew it was better to grow unattached and better to not drag someone into her tangled mess. Who was she, truly? she was merely a wind story. Something to be told over a shot of whiskey or a glass of bourbon. She was a monster hidden behind her feminine features. Her story was not worth telling as she'd always hoped it would end with a good ending where she'd find her true calling - but what she got in return was her becoming something that existed only in dusty books. An upir. Like said, some things are better left unsaid.
[If you know my name, then you should know I don’t play by anyone’s rules.]
━ From the day her mother was taken from her duty, she knew her pregnancy would have a negative effect on her. As someone who served as a soldier, a female soldier, shoving the soundless words that threatened to leave the soldiers' mouths, she was doomed to fall when she first caught the demanding gaze of a man among the crew. Her birth did not cause a special trigger, such as flowers blossoming or petals of roses falling to the ground, pooling around her crying mother's shelter.
She was graced with the remarkable beauty of her mother, mixed with her youth and her father's outstanding charm. Her innocence stood among the peers, her soft heart and outgoing personality drew people in rather than pushing them far off her. She shone like a diamond in the making, among the dust and the dark stones.
The intelligence of her parents seeped into her living form as a child, she quickly understood a lot of situations and grew up searching for certain herbs to help her father make an effective medicine to the wounded. As a human, Hazel was merely a flower standing in front of the wind, hopeless against the powerful wind. And soon, her own petals fell.
Upon becoming an upir, Hazel drastically changed. Maybe her good traits remained carved into her body, unshakeable. Her innocence was rudely taken by the rough circumstances, her beauty fooled people, lured them in. She was truly charming without even attempting to be. Becoming a monster made her feel more courageous. It pushed her over the limits, over that white line she drew as a child, merely taking words from her parents to make them come true. Many times Hazel stood to sick monsters, not ones with fangs and thirst for blood - but ones who saw women as a tool to be fooled with.
After being taken in by Mathias, a man with a cruel heart, Hazel, too, became cruel. Her heart darkened by the grasping hands of the man. It was a dark period in her life where she truly stripped the red curtains and reveled in the monster that he was creating. In no time, Hazel became a ticking bomb. Sharpened into a perfect tool for brutal usage. It was quite obvious when her vengeance sparked through her actions, the screams of mercy rang through her ears and was the last thing she heard until she opened her eyes to found herself warming up underneath a comforter. Taken in by a strange woman with her strange sense of loyalty and acceptance, Hazel adopted a long case of being deceitful in order to protect the other, purposefully escaping the lights to assure that Bridgette, the human, remained safe and that her own presence did not shorten her lifespan.
HISTORY:
[Darling, life is cruel and tough, but so are you.]
✩✩
Life ticked by like a bomb, waiting for the moment it would explode. Either it would take away an unprepared soldier or a person fully accepting their approaching death. The moment a strap of a gun would latch onto their shoulder like a monster with bare teeth, latched onto the weak skin of their shoulders, their lifespand immediately begins to grow short with each step in the mud they take. Speaking of such, a woman grew up in tough place, roughly raised by a man who'd lost his wife during a war after giving birth to a hopeless child who was only one year old. That was Embra, Hazel's mother. She was trained to be a soldier, to follow the footsteps of her father. Being a female did not bother the woman as she focused on her own task of saving what was left of her people - or try, at least.
But falling in love with one of the soldiers was the least of her expectations. Falling in love meant giving away her weapon, giving away her job. Having a child within her womb meant giving up her world to take care of that little child. It meant being helpless. Some might imagine it would be an easy thing to do for the sake of a child, but for Embra, it was the hardest thing to do. Especially when her father was killed in action. Letting her vengeance slide in hopes of giving birth to the child. Her husband took place in the war and left her behind to weep, already shoved with the belief that her husband would not return in one piece.
Her mother took the rough pain of birth, especially around June 1st, 1910. A round of cries was heard, immediately soothed by the presence of her mother as her tears stopped streaming down her cheeks. Not only did she bare the pain of birth, but she took the pain of losing her husband in action. A man who died before he could see the face of his little angel. Beforehand, they both discussed a name and without hesitation, Embra named the little girl Hazel Adler, a profound name, hand-picked by her father, a distant reminder of his dead mother. Either he wanted her presence to soothe him or he wanted his daughter to be as beautiful and youthful as his own mother was in her early days as they usually discussed that over a simple meal of bread and exchanged water.
As she grew older, she saw people get lost in war for as long as she could remember. Her own father counted as one of them. The pain she saw in her mother's eyes and the screams of the mourning mothers attaching a piece of clothing, dirty and stained with blood of the fallen soldier as the messanger comes to deliver what was left of the fallen soldier. War was cruel. It became too much for her when one of her family members went to war and never made it home. More grief was shoved down their shoulders as the adults of the family committed their life to war and perhaps their deaths would be remembered over a simple shared story at a bonfire as the fire eats away their bodies.
Hazel wanted it all to stop. The pain and the screams. As the wounded increased, she finally took what she learned from her father and brought it to life. Learning much more from the other doctors and nurses running here and there to aid the weakened, Hazel was graced with the ability to sooth the fallen victims and perhaps lead them to the other side with the last thing they see would be her gentle smile. She saved a few, but she also remembered her mother's words, the tough rule of this universe.
You cannot save everyone, dear.
She opted to save at least a very few among the other nurses. She hated seeing people get hurt, so she became determined to contribute to the service in the war. When she was around 25, she became a nurse, and was sent over to Italy in 1942, during WWII. And that was when she met a certain soldier, who went by the name of Tobias Donovan. Oh, he was certainly a curious creature, always walking around with that guarded look in his eyes and the soft, gentle voice he spoke with. He looked kind, but at the same time, there was something dangerous about him. Mysterious. Love at first sight, as cheesy as it sounds, but that was exactly what it was. She kept talking to him, trying to pull him out of his shell, and shared stories of her own home and family. And soon, she was able to make him laugh and smile, a rare sight to see since he was usually always so serious, acting as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Hazel loved the way his face lit up whenever that gorgeous smile graced his lips. Everyone in the camp could see that she was a good influence on him, and had made bets on whether or not Tobias would ask her to marry him before the war ended.
That never happened, of course, as one of the wounded soldiers, an upir, had happened to feed upon her while she was attending to him in one of the emergency tents. As he attacked Hazel, the poor dying nurse had swallowed some of his blood-which was more than enough to turn her-and she was left for dead, with her clothes stained with her own blood. Toby found her and thought she had died, since she wasn’t breathing and her body had grown cold. So he had buried her, thinking she was dead. But she was more than dead. She was the undead. The next thing Hazel knew, she was crawling out of the dirt, gasping as her throat burned of a thirst. A thirst for blood. Around the first few days of her begin as an Upir, Mathias, a man with the sharpest eyesight and dark hair spotted Hazel almost dead on the side of the street. Knowing exactly what he was seeing, he took her into his shelter among the other men in there, looking like a group of hungry wolves, was about to feast upon the fallen woman, but Mathias, unlike himself, stepped in and stopped them from going near her. He grew attached, more likely obsessed over Hazel and her sleeping form. Almost peaceful, letting her beauty become outstanding. Choosing to let her live rather than pathetically die, he ordered his men to grab a random person for Hazel to feed upon.
The crimson's scent as the sound of it dripping on the ground was more than enough to pull her from her long slumber and immediately, her eyes shifted into a pitch black color, resembling to one of a monster. Much to the others' dismay as they'd thought of her as a weak human. She mercilessly fed on a human until the point of being dried out of blood. It was Mathias who took her away.
He seemed like a good person at first, but that was him sneaking his way into her heart. Sneaking his way to claim her trust so he could manipulate her, so he could adjust her and take away her innocence. Years passed as Hazel grew under his care, he was a huge negative influence on her. If he did something bad, she would be around the corner doing the same thing. Blood became an addiction, but so was taking what was not theirs.
Victim after another, Hazel was ruthless and brutal, just the way he wanted her to be. Thoughtless and less latched onto her humanity. Breath corrupted by the metallic scent of blood, lungs damaged by the overflow of blood, hands more likely tainted red that she was no longer able to tell the difference, whether it was her own or someone else's. Sharpened into the perfect tool for brutal usage by the manipulative asshole, the same ticking bomb he spent a lot of time building twisted upon them and soon Hazel was snapping out of his manipulation, only ninety-seven years later. When she was already gone.
"Didn't you know, darling? You can never tame evil."
It was high unlikely for Hazel to survive against Mathias, but she made sure to kill his men first, turned against them and hunted them down. Mathias left her with a great nightmare where he was suddenly gone and no trace of blood to follow him with. He was gone, but to add more spice, he was still alive. Hazel woke up with an odd feeling of something being placed upon her, it was a warm comforter and soon, her nostrils flared when she smelled the outstanding scent of a human. It was a young woman, known as Bridgette. A woman with such a caring heart and also trusting to bring a woman with blood tainting her shirt into her own household.
Soon enough, Hazel gained her strength back and stepped into a dangerous line of being a mercenary, but thanks to what Mathias had done to her, she was just a perfect weapon for getting things done. Maintaing a secret friendship with the female where she had to lie about almost everything, but deep inside, she knew it was better to grow unattached and better to not drag someone into her tangled mess. Who was she, truly? she was merely a wind story. Something to be told over a shot of whiskey or a glass of bourbon. She was a monster hidden behind her feminine features. Her story was not worth telling as she'd always hoped it would end with a good ending where she'd find her true calling - but what she got in return was her becoming something that existed only in dusty books. An upir. Like said, some things are better left unsaid.
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