[hider=A Reincarnation Arrives] [center][h1][b][color=FF6347]Charlotte Amber Wardwell[/color][/b][/h1] [img]https://i.imgur.com/Iprh4xv.jpg[/img][/center] [hr] 》B a s i c s [color=FF6347]Full name:[/color] Charlotte Amber Wardwell [color=FF6347]Age:[/color] 19 [color=FF6347]Date of Birth:[/color] March 15th [color=FF6347]Gender:[/color] Female [color=FF6347]Where are you from?:[/color] Ember Grove 》A p p e a r a n c e [color=FF6347]Height:[/color] 5’8” [color=FF6347]Weight:[/color]134 [color=FF6347]Hair Color:[/color] Black [color=FF6347]Hair Length:[/color] Lower Back [color=FF6347]Skin Color:[/color] Pale Caucasian [color=FF6347]Eye Color:[/color] Very Dark Brown/Black [color=FF6347]Tattoos, Piercings, etc skin markings:[/color] A tramp stamp in the design of spread dragon wings, one which she once got against her parents’ wishes during an outing with a friend back home. [center]*Appearance Link* [url=https://i.imgur.com/Iprh4xv.jpg]https://i.imgur.com/Iprh4xv.jpg[/url][/center] [hr] 》R e l a t i o n s h i p s [color=FF6347]Sexuality:[/color] Bisexual [color=FF6347]Relationship Status:[/color] Single [color=FF6347]Any predetermined friends?:[/color] Has none locally (yet), had a small friend group from high school before (won’t be showing up in-person in the RP). [color=FF6347]Siblings' Status:[/color] Alive (Has 4 other siblings) [color=FF6347]Parents' Status:[/color] Alive [color=FF6347]Pets:[/color] None [color=FF6347]How open is your character to friends from 1 to 10?:[/color] 9 [color=FF6347]How open is your character to romance from 1 to 10?:[/color] 10 》I n t e r e s t s [color=FF6347]Likes:[/color] ✡Video Game/Anime Music ✡Classic Rock ✡The Beach ✡Cake ✡Nighttime ✡Mythology [color=FF6347]Dislikes:[/color] ✡’Controlling Assholes’ (in her own words) ✡Smoking ✡Seagulls ✡Politics [color=FF6347]Hobbies:[/color] ✡Cooking ✡Magic ✡Swimming [color=FF6347]Skills:[/color] ✡Photoshop ✡Her cooking skills are actually rather good for her age ✡Quick on the fly and on her feet ✡Determined [hr] 》P e r s o n a l i t y Charlotte as a person is the kind to come across as a relaxed person when in casual, donning comfortable clothing constantly in her personal life and an attitude of wearing what she wants when she wants to without care. Even with her impetuous ferocity in treading her own path, since her emergence from high school she’s become a bit more tired and exhausted by life and goings-on and has become more ‘chill’ than she was in high school. She can talk to someone new without skipping a beat, but likewise expect her to state her mind without a second thought if she wants to say something. However, when she does become attached to someone her softer side tends to show more around them as time goes on...and in truth she isn't a 'bad person' at heart. She can, however, be passionate about her interests in magic and travel and cooking. Despite being financially trapped from dreams of seeing other places and returning to her comfortable new apartment, however, she at least has the maturity to understand she’ll have to work her way to that point over time. She won’t claim she is a master of either of her passions as well, though at times her cooking can be odd with the occasional ‘ancient recipe’ that one of her past lives pushes for her to make in her less-supernatural hobby. Though regarding her situations as a reincarnation, and the presence of all her past lives within her own head, she has what could be best summed up as ‘a lot of mixed feelings’ about it all. On one hand they terrified her when she began to hear them at 13, trying to guide and direct her or commenting on things or even bickering with each other and sounding like they were standing right next to or behind her the entire time. Even her own mother’s attempt to explain things to her only went so far, and it came down to her and them having to work things out internally. A few of the voices are most prominent, however, and stand out among her past lives as the ‘strongest’ and likely to be able to hush the lesser others or hold sway on them....and these are ones she generally has the best relations with among those past lives all fluttering about in her head all the time. 》H i s t o r y [hider=The Beginning] The history of the Wardwell’s is a thing that few people know. To the mundane public they are but another family whose old ancestor immigrated to the USA, setting up a life there. Then they moved about a bit, before their second youngest child moved to Ember Grove far from home after graduation and a long beach vacation with some friends. Yet in truth, their bloodline is a magical one steeped far back in history and shrouded by mystery even from many of their own. Their ancestors on a far larger scale have ranged from ancient Mesopotamia all the way to the modern day USA and in-between. It all began with a girl born into a well-off family in Sumeria with oddly pale skin, deathly white hair, magical potential, and heterochromatic eyes (one blue and one gold respectively). She was seen as a fragile thing, and equal parts “blessed by the gods” as well as an inauspicious sign by some others. She would ultimately be trained to be a priestess of Inanna, as well as seeking to hone her gift and build it for the sake of the people. And yet when a new king took the city she lived in, she and many were cast out of their positions and sent out into the plains to die. Living among the afflicted she became an outcast, even, and as her former fellow priestesses withered away and cursed the gods she continued to walk onwards. Even until her feet bled upon the river banks and upon the plains she continued to walk, and all the while decided to push her craft onwards. In her journey she saw suffering. She saw war. She saw pain of an incomprehensible kind. She saw the pride of those who lauded themselves on high. She saw the humility of those who had lost all and barely clung to a sense of self-preservation. Yet in all of this as she came to terms with her own loss of purpose and life...she saw something, something she deemed to be ‘more beautiful than anything else’. It became a purpose as she moved onwards, even beyond her lands of birth and away. To see it all, to see the joy and the sorrow, the pain and the pleasure, she wanted to witness this world forever. She used her gifts to extend her life, as well as to heal and to hurt, and ultimately to continue her journeyings. She continued to push onward from place to place even beyond the span of a normal human’s lifetime for so long as she moved and saw and learned about the world. In a sense one could call her motive ‘pure’ at it’s very core, the desire to see it all that had become her new purpose in life. She swore to witness the struggles of mankind until its bitter end, even if she had to continue to travel until she could move no more. Along the way she made acquaintances, at times a friend who might travel with her for a time, and at other times enemies that sought to spill her blood upon the ground until it ran no more. It was a long life, and yet one that she sought to treasure every second of despite everything. Perhaps it was madness that drove her along, perhaps it was hope, though in the end she would work to make her dream a reality as she came upon an idea of how to do so. To see through her own two eyes was a view that, in time, would only grow duller as she extended her own lifespan through the use of magic. To see through the same eyes over and over was one thing, however, and perceiving the world through the eyes of those from each age was another. It became her grand plan, gathering friends and research and bearing her own children until she forged a ritual that would make her dream come true. At the sacrifice of her own life, ‘immortality’ as she wanted would be achieved through reincarnation. To each generation after her would come her knowledge and memories and self to guide them from the background, and yet through their eyes she would see the world as it changed and be able to learn more of it anew. That would be a most exciting adventure, wouldn't it? [/hider] [hider=Charlotte Herself] Charlotte was born the only magically-able child of 5 to a witch mother and an ex-military (and in the know) human father. Despite being the second youngest among her siblings, Charlotte proved to be the one in her generation (as with apparently every generation of her family for longer than she knew) to inherit the magical capabilities. Her mother taught her the magical arts of a witch, drilling her as best as she could whilst letting her daughter live a life as cover for her magical nature. Of course there were incidents here and there, but also scattered ‘family friends’ (read: related same-coven member families) who helped cover those ‘little mistakes’ up and smooth things over. Of course her family had to move a few times due to these incidents, which made her somewhat sad, though in the end she was still pushed to be the best witch and person she could become. At the age of 13, however, she began to hear ‘voices’ in her head. They were faint at first, but became clearer and clearer as she got older. It frightened her somewhat, though her mother simply calmed her and sought to explain. Even so, it was hard to handle a life where one of your own past lives could just pipe in at any moment and sound like they were standing right there next to you while you were in class or otherwise. Yet she still managed to acquire friends of some sort in her last three years of high school, ones which she considered herself ‘blessed’ to have all in the same place and school. She also managed to get generally good grades, learn some more about the voices in her head somewhat, and even made plans for doing online college after graduation. Of course her plans to simply move far away after graduation became a contention point with her parents, which led to some ‘teenage rebellion’ more so as she neared graduation, though in the end she promised to at least call home and keep contact if nothing else. At the age of 18 she left her senior year in high school, before going on a month-long beach vacation (courtesy of a donation from a friend’s wealthy relatives) with friends...all as she made plans to move into an apartment in a little cozy old town called “Ember Grove”. After that it would take a little time for plans to move, and a bit of ‘family friend help’ to expedite the process, to get her moved there in final by the time she turned 19. Admittedly it was a tiring process that took a lot out of her, but as of late she has begun to finally stretch out her new independence! With her first semester of online college beginning next spring as well, she has hopes to live her life as she wants to and keep up the family practice! However...an incident soon to happen will force her into the world of Ember Grove’s own supernatural. Whether this is for the best or the worst, only time will tell. [/hider] [hr] 》C o v e n None (Never formally entered one. Her mother otherwise part of a highly diffused coven called ‘The Winding Paths Coven’, which is loosely scattered across all over North America and generally is helpful to its own to make their lives easier.) 》S k i l l L e v e l Intermediate (just entered this level, has learned a few on this level [primarily Telekinesis and Soul Sliver]) (Due to her past lives’ presence within her, she has the ability to rather temporarily exert other ‘intermediate’ and even ‘advanced’ stuff and the like that her past lives knew/learned. This can be done by them ‘loaning’ her knowledge/experience temporarily. This ‘loan’ process does drain Charlotte of stamina and strength in the aftermath, however, which is a penalty...the more potent the ‘loan’ making the draining side effects that much more potent in return.) 》S p e l l S p e c i a l i z a t i o n -Telekinesis -Soul Sliver (A unique spell originating from the reincarnation research of the Wardwell’s founder/ancestor, and practiced by their bloodline, it allows the caster to insert slivers of their soul into target things/objects and turns them into a ‘golem’. While the spell is active, the caster is able to see from the perspective of and communicate through their golems. From a living tree or plant, to statues and park benches, to drones or cars, to even the skeleton hanging up in a high school classroom, this spell is highly versatile and able to transform the world around the caster into a potential tool or weapon. If cast on something like a pool of water or patch of earth, the resulting ‘golem’ takes a vague humanoid shape. This sort of golem also might need to reform again if hit hard enough, due to parts of its body breaking, though provided enough of the ‘material’ it was made of is around it can continue to reform when damaged. Once a golem is fully destroyed or the spell is canceled, the sliver of soul automatically returns to the caster. At the Basic level, a witch/warlock can only make one ‘golem’ at a given time. At Intermediate and Advanced levels, however, this spell can create more and more golems at the same time. It is also acceptable to use this spell on a dead animal body or dead plantlife, though in regards to the former this is seen as distinctly creepy in this particular usage. [b]However[/b], the specific use of this spell on a slain vampire, dead werewolf, or dead human/witch/hunter is a blatantly possible but forbidden magic and has the associated social and personal ramifications of forbidden magic in this case. [Does not work on still living sentient things though.]) [/hider] [hider=A Russian Werewolf In America] [center][h1][b][color=FF1493]Valya Karaznov[/color][/b][/h1] [b]*Human Form*[/b] [img]https://i.imgur.com/iLQdUSf.jpg[/img] [b]*Werewolf Form*[/b] [img]https://i.imgur.com/BwsEDou.jpg[/img][/center] [hr] 》B a s i c s [color=FF1493]Full name:[/color] Valya Alexandra Karaznov [color=FF1493]Age:[/color] ~4770 [color=FF1493]Date of Birth:[/color] Vaguely around June 2750 BC/BCE [color=FF1493]Gender:[/color] Female [color=FF1493]Where are you from?:[/color] Ancient Siberian Wilderness (originally, at least, has lived in various places around the world at differing times otherwise) 》A p p e a r a n c e [color=FF1493]Height:[/color] 6’0” [color=FF1493]Weight:[/color] 162 lbs (due to dense muscle in her case) [color=FF1493]Hair Color:[/color] Dark Wine Red [color=FF1493]Hair Length:[/color] Butt-length [color=FF1493]Skin Color:[/color] White Caucasian [color=FF1493]Eye Color:[/color] Wine Red [color=FF1493]Tattoos, Piercings, etc skin markings:[/color] Two piercings in the right ear, one of which holds a longer hanging earring on a silvery-colored chain and the other right above that which holds a smaller gold ring earring. [color=FF1493]Detail your werewolf form:[/color] Whilst her aging has stopped, her growth as a werewolf continued on for some time after. Her werewolf form stands at the staggering height of a whopping 10 feet, packed with rather dense muscle, bright green eyes, and powerful claws. Whether she is the actual ‘largest’ is a total unknown, but she is among the largest members of her kind. [center]***Werewolf/Non-Transformed Appearance Links (Respectively)*** [url=https://i.imgur.com/BwsEDou.jpg]https://i.imgur.com/BwsEDou.jpg[/url] [url=https://i.imgur.com/iLQdUSf.jpg]https://i.imgur.com/iLQdUSf.jpg[/url][/center] [hr] 》R e l a t i o n s h i p s [color=FF1493]Sexuality:[/color] Bisexual (leans distinctly more towards women) [color=FF1493]Relationship Status:[/color] Single [s]and Available[/s] [color=FF1493]Any predetermined friends?:[/color] Has some varied connections over the years, mainly in the form of the descendants of young she had in the far past that are scattered about the world in a few places. [color=FF1493]Siblings' Status:[/color] Dead [color=FF1493]Parents' Status:[/color] Dead [color=FF1493]Pets:[/color] None [color=FF1493]How open is your character to friends from 1 to 10?:[/color] 8 [color=FF1493]How open is your character to romance from 1 to 10?:[/color] 10 》I n t e r e s t s [color=FF1493]Likes:[/color] Three minimum. ✡ Interesting TV Shows ✡ Rare Steak ✡ Firearms ✡ Skinny Dipping under the moonlight ✡ Beers and Fine Wine ✡ Nature [color=FF1493]Dislikes:[/color] Three minimum. ✡ Soap Operas ✡ Overconfidence/Arrogance ✡ Coffee ✡ White Chocolate [color=FF1493]Hobbies:[/color] Three minimum. ✡ Drinking ✡ Traveling ✡ Video Games [color=FF1493]Skills:[/color] Three minimum. ✡ Martial Arts/Firearms ✡ Extremely Prodigious Polyglot ✡ Superb Memory [hr] 》P e r s o n a l i t y An ancient wanderer who enjoys seeing the world and occasionally settling down here and there for a time, which for her is longer than most, before setting off once more. The kind of person who holds memories of those they connected with close and dear to them, but also is willing to go out and make new memories and enjoy it all. One could call her a bit of a hedonist in regards to her passion for enjoyment and self-indulgence at times, though she can rather easily switch to being serious and otherwise back and forth seemingly on a dime. In fact, her anger can be something fierce when stoked...and even worse if one considers the dedication this 4000+ year old immortal can exert after more than a fair share of practice. However, even in her long years she is the sort of long-lived being who has kept enough in touch with mortals and learned enough in her past that even now she generally looks at the value of even a simple human life with a keen and empathetic eye. 》H i s t o r y [hider=The Beginning] As a pureblood werewolf she was born long, long ago to the alpha of a great pack living in the woods near a primitive village amidst the Siberean Wilderness. For much of the first part of her life, she was raised with the mind that her people were the strongest, bearing a lineage and might that no human nor other being could match. They were one with the wilderness, with their senses, and with their pack. She was raised in a harsh manner, lending to her combat prowess and learning of self-control and discipline to become a productive member of the pack...and a potential future alpha in her own right due to her parentage. Yet one day, a strange traveler would approach the small village and seemingly bring its people under her sway over the coming days. Almost like an allure beyond the natural...something that indeed would end up being entirely unnatural. To her father, it was like the stranger had intruded upon their grounds and their area. It was seen as an affront, and so her fathis and the pack went to ‘deal’ with the intruder as she was left behind to protect the more vulnerable parts of the pack. It was a decision that, ultimately, would save Valya’s life and lead to her seeming ‘destiny’ as she first phrased it as back then. By morning the fighters of the pack had not returned, and with the pressure from her mother to seek them out she went to go find them. She ran through the woods, hoping that her fathis and the others were alive, and yet when she arrived in the village a macabre scene lay before her. Mauled bodies, twisted looks of pain, severed heads and limbs, and the corpses of her brethren and myriad humans covered the ground in an array of carnage that made even her stomach turn to its core. Even the permafrost-covered ground was stained, nay seemingly drenched almost entirely with crimson red blood. What had once been a place of people and territory of her people was now the very grounds of death itself, nothing short or more than that, and at the center of it all sat the stranger as she cooked around a fire. The stranger turned her head to her, smiling as if nothing was wrong and motioning her over. He, for her part, was left stunned and filled with a swirling vortex of pure rage and the most primal and deep-seated instinctual terror she had ever felt in her years. Only after a few moments of staring did her legs even allow her to move, before she took several steps forward and stopped cold in her tracks once more. The woman only seemed to lightly sigh back before she spoke. [i]“You must be a member of that pack from last night! Truth be told, I came here to hunt for some rare herbs and plants I heard were about here and study your people, but in the end I had to defend myself from your people it seems. Nothing much to do about it but do what I had to.”[/i] She seemed to regard the scene about them with a certain neutrality, as if she had been simply held at a mild inconvenience by it all and yet regretted that it happened at all. [i]“You grew up learning to become strong to survive, yes? At least I’d assume so with how these ones fought. Strong, mighty warriors of the wilderness, but ones who underestimated the people here and their own will to survive. ...But being from a pack, you know the price of trying to kill that which ends up stronger than you? Right? It’s very simple when you go by the rules of nature. Only the strongest come out of the battle for survival. Though I’d add that knowing when to fight and when to not fight is just as great a strength...one that these ones don’t seem to have learned before it was far too late.”[/i] She couldn’t believe it, but even as her instincts willed her to fight and flee she felt herself drawn in by the stranger’s words. The woman’s appearance was one of incredible beauty, that much even she could tell, and yet the carnage about her was undeniably tied back to her and the people here by her own admission. Still, however, she found herself still unable to even so much as move still. The stench of death seemed to linger about like a torrential miasma whose sheer pressure stopped her limbs and physical being, as if she’d stepped into the underworld itself, even as her mind raced and battled to get her to do something. [i]“People, animals, vampires, your kind, and every living thing is put under the very same bar when it comes to surviving. You do or you don’t, and that is the cold truth that these lands seem to hammer into those who live here in the most harsh of ways. Animal or human, or otherwise really, it still holds true...yet even so I still mourn the lives lost here. It...it didn’t need to happen. Those who lived here had so much potential, and yet they spoiled it on stupid things like ideas of superiority and refusing to adapt to what was going on around them! They could have worked with people here and been something better! But you seem...hmmm...how do I put it? Different? Different! You recognize the danger here, even if those others didn’t last night. Even as they died their companions only kept coming at me, even as the bodies piled up they lashed out with claims of being ‘superior’ and a total lack of self-preservation. But unlike you, they refused to learn and at least listen for a moment.”[/i] The woman smiled at her again, before starting to walk towards her in a relaxed manner. Yet even so it caused her instincts to flee to finally cry out loud enough to win over the swirling twister of emotions within her. In a heartbeat she began to turn to run, her body pushing her to enter her werewolf form simply to give her the strength to get out of this faster. [i]Run[/i]. [i]Flee[/i]. [b][i]Escape[/i][/b]. her very flesh pumped with the one thing she could process at the time: Survival. She had to survive. The remainder of the pack didn’t even come to mind at that very moment. She [b]had[/b] to get out of this. ...Yet as she tried to flee this time, her very body shook as something stabbed into her turned back mid-transformation. Poison coursed in her pulsing veins and arteries, flowing through her heart, and even her desire to live couldn’t make her body move as it would finally collapse limply to the ground. [i]“Don’t worry! You won’t die, but after all of this I still need someone to study from your people. Bit of a pain, but you’ll do very nicely regardless! I promise I won't let you die either...gets a little lonely being by myself and all. So let’s be friends!”[/i] [/hider] [hider=Ever Since] After that day her life became that of a servant, bound with a number of enchanted items and poisons and such. She was taken around the world as a traveling companion by the witch, and at first she loathed every moment of it. She tried many times to escape, to her own self-admitted credit, and yet each and every time it didn’t get much of anywhere. Yet the witch seemed to regard these attempts as ‘funny’ for some reason! So much she tried to get back to her people, and yet all the same she was harshly denied and continually pulled around. It was infuriating, and yet at the same time she found herself ultimately giving up on a quick escape after some time. As the decades then began to pass, the witch would talk to her more and more...and more and more she found herself listening to her. At first it was a desire to learn about her in some manner, and perhaps use that to escape. Then it became a simple curiosity about her mindset regarding the world at large. Then it became normal to talk to and learn from her. Bit by little bit, part by part, the desire to go back began to slowly but surely be whittled away like an eroding hill. Even when passing an area bordering her old home, she knew she wouldn’t be welcomed back anymore. In the eyes of anyone descended from that time, she had died long ago and they had probably moved on or otherwise dashed themselves to death against the harsh truth they refused to accept. She’d been kidnapped from her home, her mightiest kin slaughtered, and yet in her travels with the witch she found herself. To her it was a journey that in the end brought her to terms with her life and family, and allowed her to think for herself for once. A new perspective created through tragic circumstances and being forced to stop and listen for once. Her fathis and people had been fighting with the mind that they were the strongest, the best, and the most powerful beings in all the world. Perhaps that explanation was exaggerated a bit, but even so that was the true ‘gist’ of that old mindset. All else was lesser than them, and in the end that had come back and taken their lives and kept them from coming back home. They had died savages among savages, in some twist of irony, and it had been someone that destroyed that world who showed her what else was out there and what it was like. In the witch she found someone who she came to understand more than anyone else. An individual that wanted to see the progress of life until the bitter end, someone whose drive was fueled by witnessing great misery and death before taking some time to come to terms with it. Someone who had seen life and death over and over, only to decide that she wanted to see it through to the end with her own two eyes. Or rather, see it herself through the eyes of others. A stupid immortal dream, an old man’s fantasy, and yet she found herself admiring the witch’s zeal to witness things through the very end in her own way. In the witch’s experiments for ‘true’ immortality, one that defied her meager mortal coil, even her own werewolf flesh would be warped and twisted into something ageless. She could still be killed, that much was frankly true, but hell she hadn’t expected as much as that to come about. Yet when the witch ultimately found compatriots and settled down, she came along for the ride as she always had. No magical bindings or the like needed this time. But when the witch eventually enacted a ritual she hoped would make her desires come true, Valya stood there and felt like a part of herself died that day. The person she’d cared most about, came to care the most for anyone, shared moments with that she had with no one else...ultimately burnt out like a final spark of fire in the dead of night. Even so, she knew she would be back among another generation, and she [b]would[/b] find her again. Every single time she would find her, every generation, every era. Though she was another person, and those moments of the past could never return, she’d always remember her somehow when they finally met. In this they could talk about the world through new eyes. Hopefully this latest reincarnation would be willing to at least talk to her. Besides, Ember Grove seemed like an interesting place to by anyways! [/hider] [hr] 》P a c k None 》P u r e b l o o d? Pureblood, descended from the original line. [/hider]