Post by ALATARIEL TEMPTEST RIEU on Mar 3, 2012 16:30:35 GMT -5
ALATARIEL TEMPTEST RIEU!
| BROKEN | COLD | ALONE |
Name: Alatariel Temptest Rieu
Age: XXIV
Birthdate: X. XV. MMXIX.
Gender: ♀
Speicies: Werewolf.
Family Members: Unknown[/ul]
Height: Five feet nine inches
Weight: one hundred and twenty - three
Build: Alatarial has a almost delicate build of fragile bones, thin slabs of muscle and soft skin that easily bruises at the slightest touch. She has her own share of muscles, a slight hint of abs in the stomach area and muscle in her legs but otherwise she is almost all skin, bones and long limbs.
Hair Color: Alatariel has a thick, satiny mane of molten gold tresses with hues of toffee, burnished copper and some hints of amber in the darker depths.
Eye Color: Alatariels eyes are a shimmering, rich hue of amber with green and blue outlining her black pupil.
Play- By:[/ul] Jessica Alba.
Personality:
- Before everything that has happened to Alatariel, before she became a werewolf she was a much different girl then I will explain. Once Alatariel was a outgoing girl who didn't take no for a answer. She was the woman all the girls looked up to and respected. She was the girl that everyone loved and cherished, who everyone could not dream of harming. That is until the day someone did and that changed Alatariel forever. This is the girl she has become...and what a drastic and sickening change it is.
- Fear ;; This is all that Alatariel has ever known after she was changed from human to wolf. She is filled with this emotion from the top of her head to the very tips of her toes. She doesn't know anything else but this emotion. It coats her stench so she smells like the sour, acrid stench on a regular daily basis when a male even so much as twitches in her direction. She can barely meet their eyes or be two feet in their presence. Fear is almost a living, breathing essence in her body, keeping her from being the own outgoing person she once was. Now all she is a person trapped in their own body, afraid to do anything but sob quietly in the shadows.
- Weak. ;; Alatariel is weak now, be it both physically and mentally. Having gone through the torture she has, Alatariel has lost the once powerful woman she had once been. The one who wouldn't let others boss her around and now she is this pathetic pile of bones and flesh. She is so weak, unable to stand up for herself instead doing what she is told. She isn't right in the mind, having lost all her mental shields by having them shredded one by one so that the simplest of things can injure her and draw her deeper in the cave of her mind. Physically she is easy to break, her bones having grown fragile over time due to lack of nourishment and time to heal, so even the softest of holds upon her flesh can leave a bruise and even a tumble to the ground could cause one of her bones to break. She doesn't heal at the same pace anymore, a slower rate than normal wolves but this is due once again to her health being let to rot.
- Unconfident ;; Oh how Alatariel has suffered. No longer can she hold her head up with pride, with a self-assurance that used to coat her like oil. Now she hides her head down, wondering what is wrong with her. She feels as she can't do anything right, even though she does it as best as she can in the situation that she is in. She stumbles every now and then, and when she is hurt or mistreated she now believes she deserves it. From the pain and suffering she has lost the confidence that helped her so now she is drifting afloat, always looking over her shoulder and redoing things a million times over, believing she could have done better or should be punished because she did everything wrong when it is only her mind that believes this.
- Numb ;; After suffering so much at the hands of her alpha, Alatariel has grown numb. Slowly over time, she begin to detach herself from all emotions and her ability to feel pain. Becoming numb, cold was her only way to keep herself safe. To make the pain stop, be it from the wounds inflicted upon her flesh or the tearing sensation of losing every bit of hope of every being free of her captors hands. Becoming numb was her only escape, her only real relief of the constant strain and torture of the life she now lived. It helped block the nightmares, the longing for her family who thought she was dead. It helped heal her somewhat while it also destroyed the precious light inside her soul and the longing for someone to love. Love which healed all...had disappeared from her dreams for what seemed to be forever.
- Alone ;; Alatariel believes she is alone in this world. In true sense, she sadly is. Born to a human family, they were all she had. They would be the only people looking for her, searching desperately for their child while other people would begin to forget about her and find something else to latch onto or or someone else to lead them. Her parents and her brother would have been the only people who would always hope she was alive, but they did not. Alatariel was dead to the world after being changed. She had been eradicated from the list of the living, her casket, minus her body, placed in the ground and her funeral served and handled a while ago. Her family had mourned her but they had moved on. Alatariel knew this, and it just made her world oh so colder to know that she was forgotten and she was alone. No one cared, no one knew....no one really thought about the young girl who had been stolen from her perfect life and slowly destroyed. She was alone and it seemed she would always be.
- Other ;; Now to say this last piece about Alatariel. Once, she could have been a wolf of power and strength, a alpha in her own way or someone high in the hierarchy. Yet before her wolf could grow in power, before she could grow in strength it was beaten out of her until she became the lowest of the low. She has little to no power now, all signs of the great beast she could have become is gone. Her wolf is now small compared to all other werewolves, not much bigger then a regular grey wolf. She has no true presence when she comes close to other wolves, showing that she is weak, almost pathetic omega weak. It is possible if her health got better, and if she breaks free of her mental cage she could once again become the powerful beast that fate had in mind, but that is a big if to hope upon.
Likes:
- Sketching
- Reading
- Going unnoticed
- Shadows
- Stars
- Singing
- Stories
- Children
- Long shirts
- Silence
- Being left alone
- Hiding in the background
- Running
- Secrets
Dislikes:
- Mistakes
- Sleeping
- Letting her guard down
- Men
- Power
- Strength
- Being noticed
- Abuse
- Haughty females
- Tears
- Bullying of children
- Crowded places
- Attention
- Emotions
- Remembering
- Liquor
- Her life
Strengths:
- Stealth
- Housework
- Obedience
- Numbness to pain
- Respectful
- Caring
Weaknesses:
- Strength
- Health
- Mistrustful
- Shy
- Nervous around people, mostly men
- Lack of social skills
History:
This history will be told in first person point of view by Alatariel. Almost like a tape recording or her writing it down for someone to read and understand her life...and what she had to experience. There might be missing gaps, but that is due to being injured in the head from her abusers. Well this is Alatariel's story....v.v
It seems so long ago when I was born. I do remember that my mother told my it was a chilly night when I had decided it was time to come into the world. I remember faintly how my mother smiled as she told me how my father had panicked and even fainted, unable to cope with the thought of having a child, less of all twins! Yes my dear readers I was a twin but let me tell you more about it later on in my story. Anyway, my mom skipped most of the parts about having to wake up my father and almost literally shove him into the car before he snapped out of it and drove my mom to the hospital to give birth to me and my twin brother. Mom said it seemed like forever to the hospital when in reality it had been in less then twenty minutes but lets not argue that with my mom...she was in a lot of pain. I remember giggling as my mom described my dad picking her up like china glass and rushing her over to the emergency room, where she was quickly taken to the nearest room in the birthing wing. It was many hours of torture for my mom, due to not being able to consume the pain meds because of being allergic to some chemical in them, before my brother made his appearance. He slithered out of the womb all nice and easy, wailing out his first words. Yet when it came time for me to appear, it was a rather difficult process and my mom and I almost died during the procedure. I didn't make a peep when I finally left the haven of my mothers womb, only watching with my dark eyes and smiling softly or so my mom says. I still remember her hand softly brushing my cheek and a smile on her face before the memory fades away....
The next and only other memory of the time with my family beside my change is when I was eight. Me and my brother were twins all right, not the same in appearance but our personality was so close together I swear it drove my mother insane. During this memory, my family and I had vacationed in Hawaii I believe, or some tropical island that the name escapes me. Anyway, during our stay we lived in this grand hotel. So large and luxurious that my brother and I could only stare in strange fascination at everything around us. Could you blame us though? We were only eight and had never seen anything so expensive or grand before. The first couple days were fine, our parents kept us busy but soon they had things to do and we were left at the hotel by ourselves. oh what a mistake that was. Me and my brother caused all sort of mischief with the help of some of the staff members who had grown attached to us during our stay. My fondest and clearest memory of that time was when we sneaked in a huge mean-looking mutt that had grown attached to us after feeding him hotdogs. Now the hotel had a strict rule of no dogs but me and my brother never listened to the rules. I guess me and my brother forgot we had soaked the managers clothes in hamburger meat for punishing us the day before. I can still recall the shrill screams of the older man as he ran all over the motel, the dog chasing after him due to the fact he smelled like meat...and once more the memory fades to nothing.
The last memory of my family I don't really count as a actually memory but a nightmare. It was the day that I was ripped away from the only world I ever knew. I was eighteen at the time, just beginning college with my brother at my side. Unlike other siblings, we had only grown closer and closer as the years went by. By the time we were eighteen, it was like me and my brother were glued to the hip. We always did everything together, could finish each other sentences, and knew every aspect and secret there was to know. Beside the fact we had a sibling bond, me and my brother had this twin bond. We could tell when the other was down or in danger which did help in the years when our parents had things to do at their big shot job and didn't have time for us. I remember of the nightmare the exact moment I was attacked. My brother and I had gone to a party in the woods, right off campus to celebrate the last day before college begin. Even though we were freshman, the upperclassmen seemed to like us and invited us to come party. My brother and I were having fun and what not when I saw him. This strange male who looked rough and unkempt, but in a sexy way. I remember locking eyes on him and dancing my way over to him, ignoring the silent warning bells going off in the back of my mind. I had danced and kept the young man company most of the night before he led me off into the trees. I had followed, a little tipsy from drinking a couple beers. He had told me to wait in a small clearing, that he needed to get something. Being the ignorant fool I was, I listened and sat upon a log. I waited patiently for many minutes and was just heading back to the party when I felt something slam into my back. I remember smelling the stench of the earth and a hot breath on my neck before pain roared through my system on the flesh of my shoulder. Blood splattered the ground and trees in a wide arc and I can still remember my screams. I felt myself being dragged away from the clearing and then...I blacked out. That is all I can remember of the night my life changed forever. I still have the gruesome scars on my shoulder.
To tell you the truth, I won't be able to ever tell anyone the full extent of my torture. I will try, I swear I will try but the pain in my heart is just to great. The first few days of trying to come to terms that werewolves existed, that I had been infected and my family thought I was dead. I was defiant, I didn't want to believe that my old life, that the old me was forever gone. I did my best to escape, to somehow find a way to return back to my world but every time it ended in failure and every time it ended with me being tortured over and over again in the most painful ways possible as my captures tried again and again to break me but I never did give up at first. I didn't WANT to give up the only thing left of me, since the twin bond was broken and it had been the most important thing so my strength and my spirit was all I had left. Yet soon after my first shift into a massive black and white wolf, did I come to terms what I was and that I could never return to my old world. So I didn't try to run anymore but neither did I obey. I broke rules, I struck out because I would not be broken...I would not become another person. As the days went by, then weeks, then months the retaliations to my defiance just got worse and worse until finally a year and a half into my servitude I snapped...and finally broke. I finally lost the last thing that was me...and became nothing but a shadow of my former self.
Having defied them so long, my captors were disappointed that I had finally given in. Having become so used to torturing me, they did not stop. Every night I returned to my little closet of a room beaten and bloody, with only a few scraps of food and a small pint of water for the night. I rarely got sleep, lost in the world of nightmares so that I stayed up more then actually getting sleep. Months went by and I just got weaker and weaker. My health steadily grew worse until one day I collapsed. That got my captors attention and they nursed me back to health for three months. Once I was healthy enough to be their slave again, once more I did when I always did before my collapse. This has repeated many times over the six years of my imprisonment, the sickness, the deterioration of my health...the slow spread of numbness as I died a little more inside. Even though some would believe I was the only one who suffered, there was another being that did. The wolf inside me suffered from the abuse of males, growing fearful of being in their presence. The strength that usually kept us afloat in this world of darkness drained away so that I became weak. So weak that my wolf became smaller, so small it was sad to even gaze upon in the waters of a lake when I was allowed to transform. I lost myself in the shadows of this personal hell. Lost myself in the world of bitter regret and despair that I was gone to be replaced by nothing more then a shell of a being.
O[/size]ne day, not two weeks ago...something happened. My masters, a group of four rouges, left the house one day. I waited patiently for them to return, ready to serve their every need when they stepped foot into their house. They did not return that night...nor the next night or the next. It was something new, because they ALWAYS returned before five days had passed but on the sixth day there was still no sign of them. Finally growing some of my old confidence back, I had shifted into my wolf and dashed out into the forest searching for my masters. For a couple hours I searched, before stumbling upon the site of a old battle. I smelled the scents of my captors and the stench of their death. My heart ached at the loss of them, not in sadness but because without them how would I survive? I was dead to the world...and no other werewolves knew I existed because I had been holed up in their house those last six years. Returning back to the imprisoned place I had, I wondered about my fate. A week later, two days before I finally left the small home to travel to the nearest town. Keeping a low profile, and avoiding any werewolf scent I could find, I looked for a place to work, before finding a small cafe to waiter at. Using the spare money I collected, I have slowly made a living for myself since the past two days I have visited town. I still live in the house where I was tortured...because it is the only place I can remember and it is the place where no one can harm me...or so I wish to believe so desperately.
Alias: D.io
Experience: Six years.
How you found us: Sordid Secrets.
Other characters: None.
How we should contact you: Pm or AIM : VicareAnubis[/ul]
