Korianna Elizabeth Grey

Gender: I have a vagina, thank you.A Normal Noble :Ranking

Age:19-ishI have a lighter? I can burn your eyebrow off. :Weapon

Sexuality:Bi-SexyNope... Only fancy purebloods get Guardians.:Guardian

Race: The Resurrected:Type

Relationship: Forever Alone.You may refer to me as Sir Gallihan. Just kidding.:Title


















What's it to ya? No one cares to get to know me.... Well...Still insisting? Ok, just remember. You asked.

I was born to a family of freaks. My mom was a distant, self absorbed, former model -- and my father is a dedicated business man who loves his cars more than his family.

When I was 19, about 10 some-odd years ago, I was dicking around at a party with some friends. Someone spiked my drink,which got me drugged up to the point where I knew what was going on, but my body just wouldn't function, then one of the guys proceeded to take me upstairs and rape me. Too much information? Well, sorry, you asked for my history. They were into that whole choking aspect, in which I died. My brother came and found me, just a few minutes too late. The drug had gotten in my system hard, and I was a goner.

Lucky me though, my wonderful brother brought me to a Necromancer. Sure, I was brought back, but with wonderful side affects, so it wasn't a gift from him anymore... It was a curse. A terrible one at that. I can't die, which means I have to watch all my friends get old, or move far away and cut contact with everyone I love. Another thing to add to the list, I can't eat [food turns to ash in my mouth], my thirst is never fully quenched and I'm bound to sleepless nights of pain and memories. So I kind of gave up on sleeping, and eating all together. As for my brother? He traded his soul for my resurrection. Hows that for guilty conscious?

I slowly began to figure it out, how to deal with everything, and slowly, I started not to care. I keep to myself now, and I guess I'm detached from reality, my state of being made me begin to question myself. I hadn't aged, and what if people starting figurint it all out? I began to become worried, shutting down from talking to anyone. I only talk if needed, or if I have something to say.

I'm sarcastic, and I honestly don't care if I hurt your feelings. I'm quiet most of the time, mostly because I am stoned half the time, or drunk. I'm always carrying something with me. A flask, a blunt. Who gives a fuck? I'm not dying anyway. So many days I've craved to be normal again, but that's wishful thinking in a harsh world. The entire ten years of existing in this state has turned me into a terribly cold, hard shell I'm afraid... Not that I really care. I don't have many friends, I'll be honest, yet people seem to like me. Or at least act like it.