Member
"It's a funny thing -- y'know, curses."
| {Full name} |
Ray Adeline Masons, but she won't be giving that middle name out to just anyone.
| {Nickname} |
I'd say she's open to them, but she's not been in town long enough.
| {Date of Birth} |
January 8th.
| {Age} |
She looks a little older than what she is, 22, but mentally? That's a question to ask.
| {Gender} |
She's a woman.
| {Sexuality} |
Pretty homo.
| {Relationship Status} |
Single, and untrusting. Yet.
| {Role} |
New in town. An Omega at best, but she's trying to fit in.
| {Occupation} |
Part-time at the local cafe.
| {Face Claim} |
Cara Delevigne
| {Dialogue Color} |
Lavender. I didn't want to make this whole CS a purple mess though.
| {Appearance} |
Alright, here goes. Ray is a little rough around the edges, but her body and heart are soft. She's a medium tall woman: she stands at 5'10". She's pretty butch, and that is to say she keeps herself soft and sweet and pretty while keeping up the butchness. She's soft physically too -- she's got all the right curves, but she has the hardness of muscle under that. She has a septum piercing and a lip piercing, some unspeakable piercings under the cover of clothing, and another permanent fixture is the soft smirk on her face. She's a bit worn, her eyes settled into a face worn a little too roughly for how old she is and how soft they'll look at people, her hands calloused, but she doesn't look much older than she is. She keeps her hair buzzed for the most part, and her eyes -- god, those eyes -- stare right into you. Brown and rich like dark chocolate covered secrets you'd love to unfold. She keeps her clothing casual, t-shirts to work with some jeans mostly, but sometimes she'll dress up with something cute (ripped jeans, crop top, Docs -- thrift shop cute, but bordering tacky.) She wears a lot of black and tries to make herself seem relatively intimidating, but don't let her fool you. She's cool, she's soft, and she's wonderful.
| {Habits & Quirks} |
She taps her foot, taps her finger on any surface (her thigh, a table, her hip), or bounces her knee. She laughs very heartily and talks without fear. She manspreads, of course, but it's a look. She likes to take up space, but she shrinks back for anyone she deems respectable (a pretty girl who needs the door held open, mostly).
| {Hobbies} |
Working. Building things. Biking. Knitting, but you don't see her doing that too often. Working out.
| {Likes} |
Women. The feeling of tools in her hands. The freedom of the open road. The hunt for knowledge. Waking up early to take on a new day. The smell of hardware shops. The feeling of belonging. Somewhere to be; a place to call home.
| {Dislikes} |
Loud, obnoxious men. The emptiness of loneliness. The cold under rain with no shelter. The "family" she left behind, as much as she wants to know about them. The hurt in her heart of abandonment. Liars and cheaters. Sleeping -- well, she likes sleep, but she gets too little of it.
| {Fears} |
Having nowhere to go. Having no one to love or be loved by. Abandonment.
| {Secrets} |
Her birth father, his tragic, unforeseen death, and her lycanthropy.
| {Abilities} |
For a werewolf, she probably has all the usual, right? She turns into a wolf at the full moon, feels it whispering in her ear the coming days before and feels its powers over her when she turns. Problem is, she doesn't know anything of herself otherwise. She'd never been around wolves growing up, and while she's made use of the extra strength she has, she's still learning what she can do and what her limitations are. So far, she has a very heightened sense of smell and powerful hearing.
| {Limitations} |
Well, she doesn't know her powers, for one. She's also very afraid of herself. Her powers are too much for her, and she couldn't bear hurting someone with them.
| {Personality} |
♦ Positive Trait ♦ Negative Trait ♦ Caring and gentlewomanly. ♦ Lonely and scared. ♦
So Ray is new in town, so she's trying a little hard to make friends and fit in. She's loud, she takes up space, and she loves herself for the most part. She's had lovers in the past, and is charming and flirty enough -- funny too -- but she tries not to love any more for fear of breaking hearts, either someone else's or her own. She tries to be cool, jacket hanging over one shoulder in her hand while she slams down a drink faster than you'd think possible. She's a bit of a show-off too, wanting to make people like her. She really, really wants people to like her.
After having no family to support her, and no love to hold her in its warm arms, she's trying a little too hard. She fakes smiles as often as she means them. Her eyes zone out sometimes, and her mind wanders a million miles away. She's sharp-tongued and witty, but sometimes her responses have a bit of a delay. She'll look so, so tired under the surface, and those eyes that some days shine with love and vigor and excitement will show the wear of loneliness and the pain of those years alone that account for that. She's trying, sure, but sometimes she's drowning.
After having no family to support her, and no love to hold her in its warm arms, she's trying a little too hard. She fakes smiles as often as she means them. Her eyes zone out sometimes, and her mind wanders a million miles away. She's sharp-tongued and witty, but sometimes her responses have a bit of a delay. She'll look so, so tired under the surface, and those eyes that some days shine with love and vigor and excitement will show the wear of loneliness and the pain of those years alone that account for that. She's trying, sure, but sometimes she's drowning.
| {Place of Origin} |
She'd prefer not to say it to you, but the records say she was born in some small town in New York. She was homeless in NYC for a while too.
| {Background} |
Ray was born some mistake of a day a while back to a man cheating on his wife, but she wasn't really the mistake.
Her family tree began with Melinda Grey, a werewolf from Salem. In the witch trials, she ran. She had found a witch, begged her to make sure none of her family take on this curse she had. They had agreed "those born of your family will never be touched by the curse of the moon," and so they thought they were fine. A few hundred years later, Randal Thoroughmoore, as the generations had made him, had gone against his family, and she was with child. He was quick to abandon the little family he was supposed to start, which was the first crack in the magic. You see, the spell was a little bit fickle with its words -- "born of your family" it says, but he had abandoned them, right? They weren't his family, and after that? They had abandoned him right back. That gene that had been suppressed magically, the one for werewolves that he carried in him and poured into Ray's mother, it wasn't affected. Ray was born, and her first full moon brought absolute terror to her mother. She had gone back to Randal furious, but he had again turned his back to her. None of his family were werewolves, magic is bulls**t. That kind of thing. Madeleine, that was her mother's name, took her baby and ran, just like Melinda had under the pressure of the hunts.
In order to take care of a child, Madeleine moved to the Big City. She looked for work, but she always took a day off right smack on the full moon every month. What kind of sitter would be able to help her? Well, the first few years were fine, the terrible twos came with peeing on the carpet that she wasn't really a fan of, but her daughter had grown. For fourteen years she had watched her daughter grow and transform and grow in that form too, but she had grown weary watching. It was when Ray had turned fourteen that Madeleine saw her end approaching, so she had told her all she knew of her birth father.
"I was never able to get answers from him," she had told her daughter, clutching her hand, "but seeing as you are the charming bastard's child, I feel you could do a little more than I could."
In the wake of her mother's passing she had been given to her maternal grandparents. She lived with them for a few years, but took to her adventure when she was 18 with hope for answers in her heart, and headed back to the Big City where she had known his family to have found its resting place.
She had arrived at his family house, knocked on the door, and said "hi, is Randal here? I'm his daughter," to the lady of the house, who had quickly known the statement true through just the look of her and all the fights they'd had on his infidelity. He showed up at the door, shouted something obscene, and slammed it on her. She kept coming back, watching their divorce proceedings scream through the house while she rang the doorbell, and found the door in her face a few more times. Gianna, bless her heart, had had enough of this man, but even through the pain of catching his infidelity had tried to help Ray. She told her all she knew of his family, all she could tell her of his ancestry, and even went so far as to give her phone numbers to call. "Call me if you need anything else, dear," the woman had told her, clutching her shoulder, "and please, don't be a stranger. It must have been hard losing your father at your birth, and losing your mother so soon after, but I hope in me you've found some sort of replacement."
Ray had continued to visit her, walking between bus stops and cutting through crowds to listen to screaming matches of her newfound family -- a woman cutting ties with all of this nonsense -- and this man who threw life at her birth mother, and she concocted a plan to find someone who could help her understand her situation. One day, though, she came back to visit and was met instead with an eerie quiet. She knocked on the door and was answered by a terse Randal that she was out. Ray, however, had smelled it far more powerfully than he could have imagined her to, a person he had considered human. She smelled blood. She pushed past him, stronger than him and faster than him, and found her dead in their previously shared bedroom. He had followed her, angry and scared, and was caught in her terrible, hateful stare -- he watched those eyes turn from the warm brown they were to the slitted eyes of the beast he soon found in his house. He skittered backwards, she pounced, and then there were two corpses on the bedroom floor.
Out of her anger and back in her much smaller and more hairless body, she found his corpse on the floor and panicked. She took some of Gianna's clothes to replace hers, torn and bloody, and ran. She ran into the city, afraid, and let herself hide among the crowds she'd always known but always pushed through. She let them cover her, let the waves of the crowds be her blanket, and learned to be invisible. She couldn't go back home -- not like this -- but she didn't know anywhere else to go. She had found abandoned buildings in the outskirts of the city and tore them to shreds one night a month, locking herself away in fear of what she'll do. Her body grew weary throwing itself at the fortresses of metal and brick she had found and her heart grew weary living and hiding alone in the city. Without anything else to do with her life, she found some directions, stole a bike, and headed out to Salem, Massachusetts with the hope that she could find someone to tell her who she is and how to control herself.
Her family tree began with Melinda Grey, a werewolf from Salem. In the witch trials, she ran. She had found a witch, begged her to make sure none of her family take on this curse she had. They had agreed "those born of your family will never be touched by the curse of the moon," and so they thought they were fine. A few hundred years later, Randal Thoroughmoore, as the generations had made him, had gone against his family, and she was with child. He was quick to abandon the little family he was supposed to start, which was the first crack in the magic. You see, the spell was a little bit fickle with its words -- "born of your family" it says, but he had abandoned them, right? They weren't his family, and after that? They had abandoned him right back. That gene that had been suppressed magically, the one for werewolves that he carried in him and poured into Ray's mother, it wasn't affected. Ray was born, and her first full moon brought absolute terror to her mother. She had gone back to Randal furious, but he had again turned his back to her. None of his family were werewolves, magic is bulls**t. That kind of thing. Madeleine, that was her mother's name, took her baby and ran, just like Melinda had under the pressure of the hunts.
In order to take care of a child, Madeleine moved to the Big City. She looked for work, but she always took a day off right smack on the full moon every month. What kind of sitter would be able to help her? Well, the first few years were fine, the terrible twos came with peeing on the carpet that she wasn't really a fan of, but her daughter had grown. For fourteen years she had watched her daughter grow and transform and grow in that form too, but she had grown weary watching. It was when Ray had turned fourteen that Madeleine saw her end approaching, so she had told her all she knew of her birth father.
"I was never able to get answers from him," she had told her daughter, clutching her hand, "but seeing as you are the charming bastard's child, I feel you could do a little more than I could."
In the wake of her mother's passing she had been given to her maternal grandparents. She lived with them for a few years, but took to her adventure when she was 18 with hope for answers in her heart, and headed back to the Big City where she had known his family to have found its resting place.
She had arrived at his family house, knocked on the door, and said "hi, is Randal here? I'm his daughter," to the lady of the house, who had quickly known the statement true through just the look of her and all the fights they'd had on his infidelity. He showed up at the door, shouted something obscene, and slammed it on her. She kept coming back, watching their divorce proceedings scream through the house while she rang the doorbell, and found the door in her face a few more times. Gianna, bless her heart, had had enough of this man, but even through the pain of catching his infidelity had tried to help Ray. She told her all she knew of his family, all she could tell her of his ancestry, and even went so far as to give her phone numbers to call. "Call me if you need anything else, dear," the woman had told her, clutching her shoulder, "and please, don't be a stranger. It must have been hard losing your father at your birth, and losing your mother so soon after, but I hope in me you've found some sort of replacement."
Ray had continued to visit her, walking between bus stops and cutting through crowds to listen to screaming matches of her newfound family -- a woman cutting ties with all of this nonsense -- and this man who threw life at her birth mother, and she concocted a plan to find someone who could help her understand her situation. One day, though, she came back to visit and was met instead with an eerie quiet. She knocked on the door and was answered by a terse Randal that she was out. Ray, however, had smelled it far more powerfully than he could have imagined her to, a person he had considered human. She smelled blood. She pushed past him, stronger than him and faster than him, and found her dead in their previously shared bedroom. He had followed her, angry and scared, and was caught in her terrible, hateful stare -- he watched those eyes turn from the warm brown they were to the slitted eyes of the beast he soon found in his house. He skittered backwards, she pounced, and then there were two corpses on the bedroom floor.
Out of her anger and back in her much smaller and more hairless body, she found his corpse on the floor and panicked. She took some of Gianna's clothes to replace hers, torn and bloody, and ran. She ran into the city, afraid, and let herself hide among the crowds she'd always known but always pushed through. She let them cover her, let the waves of the crowds be her blanket, and learned to be invisible. She couldn't go back home -- not like this -- but she didn't know anywhere else to go. She had found abandoned buildings in the outskirts of the city and tore them to shreds one night a month, locking herself away in fear of what she'll do. Her body grew weary throwing itself at the fortresses of metal and brick she had found and her heart grew weary living and hiding alone in the city. Without anything else to do with her life, she found some directions, stole a bike, and headed out to Salem, Massachusetts with the hope that she could find someone to tell her who she is and how to control herself.
| {Extra} |
Okay, I was thinking she found the wolf pack by kinda smelling them, and now she's kind of only barely a fledgling into the pack. I don't know how the other wolf characters would take to her just yet, but I feel like she's trying her best and showing up whenever she can and trying to get some sort of control over herself and some sort of family. I think she's also a little afraid of all of them, not particularly trusting but not really having any other kind of plan to deal with her lycanthropy, so she's sticking through this and trying to find a purpose. She'll probably follow her almost-packmates around like some kind of hurt puppy until she starts to understand how the pack works. Hope you like her!