Erin Silver Alier
The Mori Bloodline
The Mori Bloodline
At A Glance
Full Name: Erin Silver Alier
Age: 21
Birthdate: 3rd of May 1991
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Bloodline: The Mori (The Infernal Brood)
Personality
Likes:
- Eyeliner
- Privacy
- Old books
- Cars
- Intelligence
- Painting
Dislikes:
- Ignorance
- Country music
- Loud people
- Over-excitable people
- Whining
- Judgmental people
Fears:
- Christianity, for obvious reasons. "Freaks me out, oh and then there's the whole fact that the believers can easily kill me. Not a fun thought."
- Discovery. "Imagine if humans figure it out, then what would happen? Gives me the creeps just to think of the prospect."
- The cold. You might not call it fear exactly, but she more than just dislikes it. Freezing to death just seems very unbecoming.
Goals: Living off of her art. "I love painting. It sort of helps with the darkness inside of me... like I'm transferring it onto canvas. It sounds weird, I know, but it may be why my art is so... dark." Erin would also like to actually be able to keep her darker nature hidden with minimal effort extended.
Erin is pretty hard to figure out, constantly fighting the darkness lurking within, she likes to keep to herself a lot of the time. She's not the social bird in any way, but the few people she does let in will see a loyal, intelligent, protective, although slightly apathetic, young woman. She's not rude or mean on purpose, but she may come off as such just to keep you at a distance. In her experience, people close to her get hurt, so she tries her very best to keep most people from slipping through the cracks of the ice wall she put up around her heart. She never spends time worrying what you think about her; she is who she is, and if that's a problem... well, then there are fortunately many millions of people in the world you can talk to instead of her.
She won't be the girl you'll see laughing and smiling with a group of people. Not because she doesn't find things funny, but because her past has taught her not to show it. Most of the time, Erin is expressionless and impossible to read anything off of. Her demon companion, Irayah, is the only one she publicly shows outright affection for. To others, she removes herself with cold indifference or sarcasm. Oftentimes both. Still... she secretly longs for the warmth of true, close friendship, or maybe even more. Erin has convinced herself, and has to keep reminding her heart, that such things are impossible for her to achieve. Behind her outer bravado, Erin truly does cares, despite her stubborn attempts not to, but she most times lacks empathy; the ability to put herself in someone else's shoes. Perhaps because her own are already so damned difficult. She doesn't need to take on those of others. Aside from that, her inner darkness compels her not to care. She has to fight that every time someone gets hurts, because deep inside herself, she knows she should care. That she doesn't, tends to worry her.
Appearance Notes:
- Tattoo on left shoulderblade
- Her emerald-green eyes tend to darken when she's angry, which fortunately isn't very often
Capabilities
Bloodline Gift: "They like to say I'm gifted in the art of binding, compelling and summoning my so-called relatives. They might be right." In all honestly, Erin scares herself with her abilities sometimes. However, that doesn't keep her from using them. In fact she's keeping a demon pet. It's a lesser demon at the size of a young cat, although bigger than a kitten, but it's bound to her and usually sits on her right shoulder.
Bloodline Weakness:
- Christianity, as is norm for her kind.
- Her dark side. Erin has what she calls a devil on her shoulder, almost like a separate part of her, but powerful all the same. Sometimes it takes her a great deal of effort getting it under control, keeping herself from hurting people around her. She doesn't always succeed though.
Other Skills:
- Painting. Erin paints dark, but eerily beautiful pictures. They will almost captivate you with the intensity of the strokes and colours applied.
- Kickboxing. She was taught by... a friend, and she's very good at it too. Erin swings a mean right hook - don't be fooled by her slight form.
Biography
"I was a terrible child. I admit it. In all honesty, I guess you could blame my brother... and parents. Or... well, parent, since the plural version doesn't apply if you only have your father around. My mother died giving birth to me, and my father hated me for it. I'd killed the love of his life - something he'd very often remind me in one of his drunken stupors. Oh, I wasn't raped until the age of 10, though, and it wasn't by my father. In fact, my older brother had thought it a fun game the first time. "Shh, we're just playing, Erry-bear. No need to be afraid. See, it's nice? Just lick it. That's it... now put it in your mouth." I'll never forget the gentle, soothing tone of his 16 year old voice guiding me to my very first blowjob. Sick creep, he was, and though I knew my father was quite aware, he never made a move to stop the sexual abuse Jake executed on his only 10 years old sister. It kept right on going for a while and my behavior grew violent and defensive, doing everything in my power to act out whichever way I could. I stopped going to school, preferring anything to the petyful look in my teachers' eyes. They could tell something was wrong, but I wasn't talking. Then, at the age of 14, I ran away after my father had finally admitted to me that he knew about Jake abusing me, and that he was glad I finally got what I deserved. He told me that I should never have been born - that I was an abomination. Until then, his hate had only been evident in his eyes. Hearing the words stung.
So yeah, hurt, abused and broken, I ran away from home, never to return. I wasn't alone for long on the streets; I'd begun looking like a woman, so I suppose someone taking notice of a lone, vulnerable girl shouldn't have been surprising. That's when I met Wesley Pertner, a small time drugdealer with a a serious love of his leather whip. At the time, however, he was just a smiling, attractive young man who offered me a roof over my head, and food. Naivety has since been beat out of me, fortunately. And when I say beat, I do mean it quite literally. I hadn't stayed with Wesley for more than a week when he first entered the small livingroom with a long whip in his hands. The look in his eyes was as sadistic as anything you'd ever see. Although Wesley's abuse was degrading and painful, he never made sexual moves, safe for the fact that he always forced me to take his beatings naked. I'm sure he just wanted to see the art he was making with my blood, though. Laughter and smiles only served me more whippings, and so I learned to hide those things. It wasn't hard... amusement wasn't a part of my everyday life, and I merely stopped watching comedy on TV.
I was 15, and half a year had passed with Wesley, when my awakening came. Of course, at the time, I'd had no clue what was going on and merely considered the dreams very life-like nightmares. Or dreams, perhaps. Mostly they were of me killing Wesley in the most horrific ways; me standing in front of a great wall of fire, creatures of nightmares spilled forth in hordes, running past me and into the world, or things very much to that resemblance. I don't remember much of the day Wesley died; most of it is a blur, I have to say. It was the same day I met Irayah, such and ugly, yet adorable creature. I was standing in a pool of blood, in front of my dead tormentor. To this day, I'm still not sure what went down, but I think I might have called for the help of my ancestors in my sleep, and ended up summoning Irayah. How I ended up standing in front of him, the bloody creature in front of me, I have no idea. I'm not sure I want to know. I later learned that I had subconsciously bound Irayah to me, not that any of us minded. She likes my company, and I enjoy hers as well. She speaks to me in my mind, although she's always stayed silent with everyone else. I've also found that I can reply in much the same way, focusing to send a certain thought her way.
I don't quite know when the darkness began taking over, but it did... gradually. It changed me into what I needed to be instead of what I actually was. It's odd how I needed this part of me to awaken before I could finally learn to get by on my own. I spent the next long time of my life on the streets, running, afraid someone would come look for me... and find Irayah. That sure would've brought up a lot of questions, wouldn't it? We got by, she and I, begging, stealing... whatever got us food and water. Fortunately, she didn't need it. It wasn't until later that I found out that she's actually living off of me, lapping up some of the energy I get from food. I suppose it's only fair. It's just like I'm sharing my food with her. I became cruel and well.. downright evil, using my natural intellect and the dark whispers to find my way. Then I met Johnny Sterling, and I'm not going to dig very far on this subject. For one, it hurts too much, and other than that I can't say I fully understand what he did for me myself. All I know, is that Johnny was the guardian angel I'd never had. He brought the best out in me and I learned to control the dark side. He became more than a friend - much more, even though I had to hide Irayah from him. He was an artist, and through him, I began painting myself, finding that it helped relieve me of the darkness inside. He'd often compliment my art... stare at it for hours at a time, muttering to himself about it being entrancing and scary at the same time.
I didn't understand then, how the painting could captivate him so. Now I know, however, that my paintings are evil. They're demonic in and of themselves, and humanity has always been drawn to their darker urges. My paintings are temptations hard to resist... which is why I hide them most of the time. I'm working on changing the effect they have on humans. Johnny grew quiet, his moods changing from ecstatic to brooding in 0.5 seconds. When I awoke one morning, he was staring at me with widened, frozen eyes. His body had grown cold, his mouth open in a soundless scream. With that, I ran and the darkness came back. At this point, I was 18, and truly confused, not understanding what was happening to me, or what had happened to Johnny. All I knew, was that I needed to find out, and that I had to keep running. Along the way, I met several people who I let in, searching for someone to fill the void Johnny had left in my heart. They all ended up just like him. Lovers and friends alike. It didn't matter. One day they were alive, and the next they just weren't. I think it's the darkness... demons who that part of my summons while the other part is asleep. It doesn't want to let go, and so it kills every ray of light entering my life.
My Guardian, Dustin, came into my life about 7 months ago. I don't want to bore you with the details here, but after a great deal of consideration, my lonely heart couldn't quite resist the temptation. He offered me people just like me, a place to stay, a chance to learn about my powers... a chance to understand what had happened to my loved ones. I couldn't refuse. Besides... I'd weathered so much already, if I died, then I'd die. I keep to myself mostly at the isle, although a few people are starting to breach the walls around my heart. I'm afraid to let them in, though. What if they die like so many others? I don't want more people to die because of me. Dustin is one of those few. He's taught me how to control my powers. First, though, he took care explaining what I was, what I would be able to do. It's given me a little hope that I might be able to keep a lid on the darkness even in my sleep at some point. Then, perhaps... sometime, I might be able truly let someone in again."
Irayah - Erin's demonpet
Name: Irayah
Species: minor demon
Appearances:
Irayah looks like this in her real form, with black hair, pit-black eyes and a darkred body. Although, most of the time, the little demon conceals herself and looks like this, so very few actually know that she's a real demon. If you touch her, she will feel exactly like the kitten she looks like.
Demonic Powers:
- The art of concealment, meaning Irayah can both become invisible and/or change her appearance. Although, she can only change into that black kitten - the one most people see her as.
- She cannot fly as a cat, but in her true form, her wings carry her effortlessly. She's also very fast.