Post by Ares Lusitani on Nov 30, 2008 9:42:33 GMT -8
Ares Calligenia Lusitani
Basic Information
Name: Ares Calligenia Lusitani
Apparent Age: 20 years
Actual Age: 2189 years
Diet: vegetarian
Clan: Aistheta, if they'll take her.
Physical
Physical Description:
Ares stands at 5'11", which is mostly leg. She inherited her mother's slim frame, among other things, as well as her hidden strength. Ares prides herself on her hidden muscles, enjoying the wiry strength as opposed to brute force. The slim, muscled body allows Ares unrestrained movement, quick movement, and a smooth grace that many of her 'family' coveted. Her small feet allow her to swiftly manuever when necessary. Ares is graced with a long neck that gives her a very regal air. Her back is almost always ramrod straight, for it was hammered into Ares as a young girl that confidence is all in how you hold yourself, which begins with a straight back.
Ares has a very noticable beauty. Before being turned, her eyes were a pale blue, almost grey gaze. In certain conditions, her eyes would be greener than usual, but the usual was a very pretty ice blue. Her eyes are nearly almond shaped, and makeup, when applied in certain ways, can actually make them seem almost cat-like. Her long curls fell to just past her shoulders and were a rich, healthy brown that in some lights seemed almost black. Her skin was always a novelty to her brethren. She was never quite as dark as the rest of her 'family.' She was always fairer skinned, not nearly the rich light chocolate color of the others that surrounded her. It was her father's skin color, tinted with her mother's. Ares would tan to a warm, golden brown, but could never achieve the deepness of the other women. It was a constant fault that she battled against.
After being turned, Ares adopted the ethereal beauty that all vampires have. Her eyes now, as a vegitarian, are a warm, molten gold. When she was first turned, the ruby color of her eyes had enthralled her, but they soon became loathed by Ares. Her pale, vampire 'skin' still holds remnants of her heritage's darkness, for there is a bit of a tanned feeling to her skin. But never so much that anyone notices except for Ares. The scars that had crisscrossed her back disappeared with the change, but curiously enough the tattoos that also marked her did not. Her 'family' had a special kind of 'magic,' and the tattoos weren't carved into her, but set - like a diamond into a ring. She has three tattoos spread over her body: her ankle , her wrist , her shoulder [the outline of a hand in black].
Celebrity Face: Catherine Zeta Jones
Psychological
Personality: As a young woman, Ares was a strong leader. She took after her mother, who led countless warriors into battle and ruled with a fair, just hand. Ares could usually persuade her 'family' to do what she felt was right. She was a great orator, but usually chose not to speak unless you had an opinion on the topic or felt strongly about what was happening. Her actions were confident and bold, usually evoking gasps that were quickly quieted when she spoke her reasons. She was training to be the High Priestess, who would take her mother's place when the time came. This caused her spiritual prowess, which she used when training the younger girls and taking on more leadership roles within the tribe.
When Ares was changed, many of her beliefs went out the window. For nearly two hundred years, Ares was a bitter huntress who would kill anyone in her path. She thrived on the hunt, on the kill, and only after did she feel a pinprick of remorse. But she was already moving on to her next hunt to repeat the vicious cycle. Any vampires she met she would treat with cruel annoyance and disinterest. She was slow with what she did, lacking the ability to just get it over with a feed. This view lasted until she killed a young girl. From then on, she began reforms on herself. She built up her hunger, and only fed when necessary - on animals. She no longer allowed herself the taste of human blood that she'd craved for such a long period of time. She began thawing out the ice that encased her so that, when she did meet other vampires, she wouldn't immediately put up a wall and attack them verbally. After nearly five hundred years as a vampire, she was finally beginning to feel like a piece of the human she had once been. Her words were chosen carefully but she used them fluently. Ares began to rebuild the confidence and boldness that had once been all that mattered to her. However, she turned her back on anything spiritual. No god or gods or whatever there was would let a young warrior become such a monster. And so she lived.
Strengths: While she views it as a weakness, Ares's love and protective-nature for children is also one of her strengths. It makes her very careful to keep her hunger for human blood from overtaking her, and it makes her a bit protective of what friends she may have. Ares is also very confident, but not in a cocky 'I know better than you' way. With her age, Ares is able to delegate when it's smart to pursue something and when it's not. If she feels an argument isn't worth extending, she'll simply say that it's okay to agree to disagree. She has more knowledge than most of the vampires she's around, which helps her to help them, but she doesn't usually like meddle in others business. She feels that in order to learn, you must make mistakes, which seems a bit harsh to some of the 'people' around her, but she's made enough mistakes to know.
Weaknesses: Ares is constantly worried that she will slip back into her old routine of killing. For all of her years after her realization that she could be somewhat human, she has lived in an unending fear that she will succumb to the monster that she can sometimes still feel within her. It's the one flaw in her coat of confidence. She also has a weakness towards children. She has a fierce need to protect them. She'd do anything to keep a child out of harms way, including staying away from them herself - which is hard on her, because she wants nothing more than to have her own child. This iis where Ares lets herself slip a bit. When she hears of a pedophile or a serial killer that targets children or a kidnapper - or anything else criminal that relates to children - she tracks them and either disposes of them or hands them into the cops. Ares also has a bit of a temper. She can't deal with people who think they're better than anyone and everyone. She loathes gossip like she loathes what she used to be.
Special Abilities: Ares is a tracker. She can hear a being's thoughts as a hum, never able to make anything out, and with that she can find them. The hum changes frequency with the person's emotions, which is usually how she deduces whether to go after the person. The more she's heard a person's 'hum,' the farther away they can be and she can still hear them. How far away the person can be and she still hears them is also affected by her own emotions. If she's very angry or upset, she can hear them farther away, but when she's happy there's a shorter distance she can cover.
Historical
History: Born to Hadassah, queen of the matriarchal tribe Themyscira in nowadays Morocco, Ares and her twin brother, Alberus, were born during in the first light of Beltane. The Themyscirians were a female run society, one reminiscent of the Valkyries of Greek legend. Ares and Alberus were trained together in household chores for the first five years of their existance. However, Alberus was seen as a weakness to Ares by many of the women, and was sent to Bevire, a patriarchal tribe nearly three hundred miles away. Ares felt the loss of Alberus but was punished when she let her feelings about it show. From age six to sixteen, Ares was trained in the finer arts of being a warrior. From daybreak to mid-morning, she learned the art of sword ‘play.’ It was always a game to her, for she enjoyed it so much. Each day, she would be tested by Adica, the master sword wielder. From mid-morning to sun high, she learned combatant skills without a sword. Many times, she ended up with more bruises than she could count, but as she grew older she grew better, and when Ares was nearly fourteen, Littica, her mentor in hands-on combat, couldn’t touch her. From sun high to mid afternoon, Ares was trained in horse-back riding. The Themysciran women were known for their excellent equestrian skills, and Ares was not one to fall below the average. Horse back riding was her strongest skill. She learned how to hold on with her thighs while wielding a sword; to stand on the back of her steed; to sling herself around the horse’s middle to miss sharp sword points aimed about its back. From mid afternoon to sun set, all of the women of the tribe celebrated their lives with a massive feast. Only when there was a raid did the women not celebrate – they fasted. After the feast, she would have all night to herself. At age fifteen, Ares used her free time at night to begin her Lesba, a ceremonial gown that she would wear to her coming-of-age ceremony on the eve of her twenty-first birthday. She received her first tattoo – a Themysciran symbol for royalty on her wrist – on her sixteenth birthday.
At age seventeen, Ares was trained to become the High Priestess, who would take over when Lemidah died or handed down her place as High Priestess. She was taught the arts of medicine, healing, elements, and spirit. Each night, after the feast, she would bathe in the Caerudulce, a wide pool of water used for cleansing. Only when the moon did not shine on the pool did she refrain from bathing. She was tutored under her mother at age nineteen in the arts of reading, writing, painting, and music. She received her second tattoo – a Themysciran symbol for priestess on her ankle. Soon after her nineteenth birthday, Ares met a young man named Basia. When she tried to kill him for entering the Themysciran territory, he met her blows with ease. They met many times after that, almost every night, and he taught her what swordwork he knew that she didn’t. After a year together, she finally admitted to herself that she loved him, and he her. When her twenty-first birthday loomed on the horizon, Ares was one of the most important women in the tribe. She was trained in all of the arts held sacred to the Themyscirans, and was soon to become High Priestess, and then queen – something nearly unheard of among the women of the tribe. On the eve of her twenty-first birthday, mere hours away from her Lesbat, Ares remained in her small home – a hut that she’d constructed herself, away from the others of her tribe so she could have privacy. She could hear music already beginning as the Themysciran women began celebrating her Lesbat. Just as she was finishing the last touches on her Lesba, Basia burst into her hut. She went to him, kissing him fiercly as fear of the coming ceremony flooded her. She voiced her fears to him, and he urged her to come away with him – something felt wrong. She refused. This was her home, her people, and she would soon become their High Priestess and queen. She couldn’t abandon them. Angry that she wouldn’t leave with him, Basia spoke harsh words and stormed out. Heatbroken, Ares put on her Lesba and went out to meet her future.
When Ares arrived at the Lesbat tent – a large, covered area of land with her tribe surrounded it and a large ceremonial bed in the center – her heart soared. She gained her newest tattoo – the outline of her mother’s hand on her shoulder, a symbol of pride, courage, hope, and strength. It was the highest honor she could receive. She lay down on the bed, and waited for her offering to be brought forth. When Basia was thrust forward in nothing but a loin cloth, Ares’s heart sank. The ceremony would end his life. Her mind flew over what was supposed to happen. A meaningless man was supposed to be supplied. She would have an hour or so of sexual indulgence and then kill him. In the morning, she would sever her left breast to allow her to learn the newest art of bow-and-arrow and she would become the highest person, after her mother the queen, in the tribe. The ceremonial blade was handed to her – a blade she had carved herself. Staring at her true love, she knew she would be unable to go through with what her tribe expected. She kissed him once and then took off.
Ares found herself at the Caerudulce. She was heartbroken, alone, devasted. She’d left all she’d ever known and now she had nothing. Basia was dead the moment he was grabbed by the Themyscirans. Ares was bathing when the male vampire found her. Her intoxicating scent called to him – the sadness, too. He attacked her, turning the waters of the Caerudulce red with blood. She fought back even as she begged for him to kill her, and that is what stopped him. He stared for a moment at the beautiful woman and then disappeared. She managed only to hide herself in the bushes before the fire burned through her. Three days later, she awoke. Ravenous. The hunger was a physical pain and she needed only to quench it and then she’d be okay. She ran in the opposite direction of Themyscira and came across Bevire. Unable to control herself, she ravaged the entire tribe. The last person she killed was a young man named Alberus, who begged for her to remember him, her brother. When reality hit moments after she slew him, Ares was inconsolable. She gave herself over to the monster that lived within her.
For nearly two years, Ares used her newfound talent of tracking to fuel her own game. She lived for the hunt, the kill, the flavor. Anyone and everyone were fair game. She killed with a ruthless joy that only increased her craving. But when Ares killed a ten year old girl, her whole being was rocked. For the first time, she thought about what she was doing. Whose brother would never smile at them again? Whose mother would never hug them again? Whose little girl would never run to them again, tears running down her face because a neighbor friend stole her gumball? From the moment Ares stared down at the broken body in her arms, she began to reform herself. After three years of feeding on nothing but animal blood, after five years as a vampire, Ares finally felt like a piece of the human she once was. She put her tracking skills to use to find criminals who targeted children, feeling it was her duty for what she had done. She killed them but didn’t partake of their blood. Sometimes, if she was feeling generous, she would hand them into the police. For the next two thousand or so years, Ares wandered Europe. After a particularly hard tracking, she found herself in Ireland, where she came across a much younger vampire – Helena DeFlavis. Hopefully, she can find a home with the young vamp and her family.
Other
Sample RP:
Ares moved silently along the tree line. Her movements were quick and graceful, each one fading into the next. Her mind stretched out to listen to the man twenty yards ahead of her. The hum in his head was louder than usual, excited, without remorse. Anger coursed through Ares's body, but she held herself in place, keeping to the shadows. Her keen eyesight picked out the happy bounce in his step. He thrived for the hunt as much as she once had. Her lips curled up in a snarl of disgust. The idea that she had just compared herself to the scum infront of her was nearly intolerable.
She'd been hunting this particular kind of scum for nearly seven hundred years and it never ceased to piss her off. With a flitting, silent step, she darted forward through the sun to settle against a wall ahead of him, closer to the girl he was strolling towards. It [the sun] was a nearly unnoticable tingle through her entire body. Ares gazed for a moment at the young woman, probably only fifteen or sixteen. She was pretty, with golden curls and light skin. The blood pooling in her cheeks didn't tempt Ares the way it once would have. She turned her gaze back to the man.
He was getting closer. She could read his plan in his eyes. He wanted to enjoy this, so he would draw it out. Ares smiled a mirthless smile. That's what he thought, at least. Just as he was about to pass her, Ares stepped infront of him. Hello, handsome, where are you going? She adopted the voice she'd heard him use infront of the mirror, and could see the startled look in his eyes. How she had wanted to tear him limb from limb in his apartment. But she'd had to make sure this was what he was planning. She wouldn't kill an innocent man. But he was no longer innocent. She backed him up easily, never touching him, through the shadows. When his back bumped against the wall, she smiled slowly, letting him see her sharp incisors.
Not wanting to drag it out, she broke his neck before he could so much as mutter a scream. The satisfying crunch of bone snapping sent shivers down her back. She let him drop to the ground, turning to see where the girl had gone. Ares smiled slowly. The man's prey was farther away than before, looking at jewelry in a shop window. Ares turned back to the broken body of the 'man' and lifted it onto her back before flitting back to the shadows of the trees. She dumped him unceremoniously into the hole she'd dugged earlier and smooth the dirt over his body. Job well done, if she said so herself.
Other Characters No one.
Anything Else: Nothing :]
Where You Found Us: Waning Sun
