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Vera Valentine

"I was chosen for something 'great' they said - but where was my choice?"

0 · 2,119 views · located in Dark World

a character in “After Dark Day”, as played by Kura Ravengade

Description

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"To be completely and wholly yourself is nothing to be ashamed of. To live to please others and fulfill their unrealistic expectations is, however, and I give no respect to those who attempt to do so.

Rise Against | Savior
Somewhere | Within Temptation
Love is a Beautiful Pain | Endless Tears[


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"Why hesitate before the adventure has even begun? It is when you live life to the fullest that you truly experience mortality."




| Name |
Vera Vona Valentine
{VEER-UH VOH-NUH VALENTINE}
"Yup, that's my name - don't wear it out!"

| Nickname(s) |
Triple V, Hummingbird, Cardinal, Red/Red Riding Hood
"They're just names. They're no big deal."

| Age |
24
"How dare you! That's almost as insulting as asking my weight!"

| Gender |
Female
"I swear, if you meant that as an insult, you're going to feel quite a bit of pain very quickly - and soon, all at once."

| Species |
Human
"My race may have many more weaknesses than yours, but we will prosper and conquer nonetheless - and that is a promise."

[color=]| Birthday |[/color]
October 31st
[color=]"The night of mystery became even more shrouded when I came into this bitch of a world."[/color]

[color=]| Occupation |[/color]
Feral Group's Leader/Teacher/Trainer
Been in the position for nine years, since the age of fifteen when she first formed the Feral Group.
[color=]"Responsibility is a bitch, but who else is competent enough to step up to the task?"[/color]

| Romantic Interest |
TBD
"Who has time for romance anyway?"

| Sexuality |
Heterosexual
"Sorry girls - I don't roll that way."


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"'The beauty is in the eye of the beholder', or however the saying goes."




| Hair Color/Length |
Vibrant Red.
"Apparently I'm unique not only in my personality, but also in my appearance."

| Eye Color |
Palatinate
"Careful - you may lose yourself in them if you aren't. I'm quite a vixen."

| Height |
5'4"
"So what if I'm a bit on the short side? I'm not short, I'm fun-sized! Plus, I'm average for a female in this day-and-age! And I'm much more of a threat than you would expect."

| Weight |
111lbs
"How dare you ask me something so rude!"

[color=]| Body Type |[/color]
Hourglass; Athletically Toned
[color=]"I've worked hard and well to achieve the body that I have. To allow yourself to grow lazy and overweight is only a detriment to yourself and what causes you may or may not be fighting for."[/color]

[color=]| Distinguishing Features |[/color]
Her hair and eyes. Her being a vibrant red since birth, it has attracted the eyes of many people - not all of them the best of characters. Combined with her uniquely purple eyes, she is a rare human being who, when on the market, would run for a high amount of money. It also didn't hurt that her blood type was the rarest of them all - AB-.
[color=]"I've been told that these are the reasons why I would run for such a high price in the vampire slave trade."[/color]

| Nationality |
Dublin, Ireland
"I'm not an illegal alien - I promise."

| Ethnicity |
1/8 Scandinavian, 1/8 Swedish, 1/8 Norwegian, 1/8 Danish, 1/8 German, 1/8 Italian, 1/4 Irish
"So my family got around - have a problem with that?"

| Scars |
She has several along her back that criss-cross in a way that they cannot be followed. Along with those, she has one that curls around her neck, the explanation of which will be in her History.
"Yes, they're very noticeable - but why should I care about if people see them? They aren't what define me. They are simply reminders of what I have survived through. Besides - with these, vampires are less likely to want to buy a tarnished item if I ever have the misfortune of finding my way back into the trade."

| Tattoos |
None
[color=]"Why mark your body senselessly? Plus, for some reason, some vampires tend to like tattooed slaves quite a bit."[/color]

| Birthmarks |
She has a rather large one in the shape of a sun on her left hip-bone.
"I've been told that I was marked from birth to become the idol that restored sunlight to a dismal world."

| Piercings |
Three studs in her right ear, along with two cartilage piercings, and one in her left ear. Also, she has one nose piercing, one tongue, and one belly button piercing.
"I'm not a complete delinquent - anyone with eyes could see that. I simply like piercings."

| Oddities |
♧ It's been found to be impossible for her to fall for anyone anymore. She can admire an attractive male specimen, but that's where it ends. The vampires destroyed love for her, and her greatest fear is that it will never be restored and she will end up alone.
♧ Vera is basically a living lie detector. She is very skilled when it comes to telling if someone is not being honest with her, and there are many people who fear her for this talent.
♧ Although she isn't an emotionless robot, she is able to perform some and certain tasks without any emotion at all. It's simply a form of protection for her - although she does often come off as not caring about a thing.
♧ She experiences very severe night terrors, to the point of mental trauma. Not only is she scarred by the images she sees, but she often injures herself in her sleep due to thrashing. Because of this, she is forced to restrain herself in some way before sleeping. The worst part of this? She remembers the dreams.
♧ Most people know very little about her past, and those who know more have never lived to tell the tale.
♧ When was the last time someone saw her smile?
"Everyone's a little odd in their own, special way. It's when you embrace that oddness that you truly embrace yourself."


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"I'm me, and I enjoy being this way. No one will ever change me, no matter how hard they try. You'd do well to remember that, kiddo."




| Race |
Human
"If I were to ever become else-wise, I would take my own life. And if I were unable to, I would hope that someone else would take me out - no matter what I would say in my new form."

| Personality |
{WIP}
"I'm me, assholes - and don't you forget it. I'll put you in your place so quickly you won't know what hit you!"

| Dominant Emotion |
Determination
"I will fight until my last, dying breath to restore honor and dignity to the human race. We are not sheep to simply be coddled and toyed with - we are bears in sheep's skins."

| Danger Level |
Normally, she's about a 3. She doesn't really care about what other people do, so long as they don't disobey the laws she first set for the Feral Group. However, when antagonized - say they hurt someone she did manage to care about - she soars up to a 9 1/2 in her threat level. Not just because of her skills in the art of fighting, but also because of her technological intellect.
"I'm a pretty scary bitch when I want to be."


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"Prying too deeply into someone's past - that's quite a troublesome trait you have there. Not only can it hurt the person you are delving into, but it can also hurt you - and not just mentally."





| Keepsakes |
{WIP}


| History |
{WIP}





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So begins...

Vera Valentine's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dinah Character Portrait: Vera Valentine Character Portrait: Jason 'Doc' Lachawr Character Portrait: Cyrus
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"'Live, Laugh, Love'. Honestly, I'm much more attentive to the first of that list."




When a girl meets a boy, it's supposed to be romantic and sweet, isn't it? Well, apparently not always. It would probably help if the boy was, you know, a boy. And that his face wasn't completely covered in blood. And that he wasn't currently following two of her family members to the one building that housed all of her family.

Shaking her head, Vera smothered a sigh. Honestly, what would she do with these kids?

Lifting her scarf up and over her lips and nose, she adjusted her tight jacket. It was only a bit chilly for the autumn season, but she had been sitting guard outside of the church for a few hours at this point. She lounged up in a tree, completely still most of the time, her leg dangling down and her eyes closed as she listened astutely for the sound of movement in the surrounding nature. However, the slow movement of feet had drawn her attention downwards. The voices of Cyrus and Dinah had been gone for a mere minute or two when the sound had risen, causing her to draw a brow upwards.

My, my - the Leech definitely had some balls to not only come to her domain and threaten her people, but to also follow them so closely was ballsy. It would be admirable if it weren't for those two, pesky first problems.

Rolling, her eyes, Vera silently drew and arrow from its sheath, notched it, and quickly let it fly. It drove him, slicing directly through the neck of the vampire. Blood immediately spewed out, and the leech shrieked in pain, clawing at the Garlic-laced, Holy-Water-Drenched, Cross-shaped arrow.

Hey, you can never be too careful, right?

Swinging a leg over the side of the branch that she rested on, she lithely dropped to the ground, her years of martial arts training allowing her to land without fault behind the vampire. The thing in question spun as she dropped, his clawed fingers lashing out at her. She easily leaned backwards, just out of the vamp's reach. This cause the creature to hiss in anger and launch itself in her direction, which she easily side-stepped out of. She yawned, her gloved-hand lifting to pat at her lips.

"Honestly, you are probably the worst leech I've ever had the misfortune to come across. You can't even touch me, let alone take my blood. I thought you vampires were supposed to be a higher-species than I, a mere human? And yet, here I am - completely avoiding your attacks. Hm, I wonder why that is?" she asked, cocking her head to the side and clucking her tongue questioningly.

The leech snarled, but his lips quirked up a bit at the edges. "Whoever said that I was trying very hard to touch you?"

Pausing, she finally shrugged nonchalantly, her disinterest in his hinting nature obviously lighting the flames of his anger once more.

A rustling behind her was the only forewarning she had of the ambush.

It was only one other vampire, but this one obviously wasn't as furious and injured as the one that she had only just been facing. Turning, she made it so that she could see both the new vampire and the old one, her hand moving ever-so-slowly to her sword.

"Man, don't you know it's completely unfair and unethical to outnumber someone? Come on, how do I even stand a chance at this rate?" she whined, sticking her lower lip out in a pout.

The new vampire snickered, his dark eyes flashing. "Well, my dear - seeing as you admit that all hope is lost for you, why not submit yourself to me? I would love to get a delicious taste of you. I can already smell your blood type - and it is a rare one indeed. Ah, perhaps I will keep you around, if only for the fact that your blood is so deliciously different."

Leaning back, she tapped her finger against her lips. "You know, as appealing as that sounds, I think I would much rather do [b]this[/i]!" she said, her hand flashing out so quickly that a vampire's eyes would barely be able to follow her movement. In and instant, she was on the opposite side of the old, already-injured vampire, and in her one hand she held her arrow. In the other, she held her sword, the tip of which was pointed directly at the grassy floor of the earth.

The following few seconds felt like eternity, but finally, out of nowhere, blood began to spew up from the vampire's neck. His head slowly fell to the side, before completely dropping to the Earth. It bounced a couple of times before rolling across the dirt to come to rest at the still-living-vampire's feet.

The body fell a few moments later - first to it's knees, and then to it's front.

Tilting her head, she glanced at the living vampire with a twisted, dark smile.

"Would you still like to keep a pet that could severe your head?"

The man's eyes darkened in fury, his face contorting in unbelievable anger, and he was moving in an instant.




"Hey, Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber - both of you should stop bickering and just ... Well ... Shut up entirely," she said, and as she passed by both of them, her fists moved out and, if they had made contact, would clonk on the top of their heads with just enough force to jar them a bit. She had only just returned to the church and the entire front of her body was coated in blood. Half of her face was decorated in it, and her vibrant red hair had darker red splotches throughout it. Her light samurai sword rested in its sheath against her thigh, while her equally-light Recurve Bow tapped gently across her chest and back. Her quiver rested lightly on her right shoulder at this point, the feather of the arrows protruding from over her shoulder if she were to be noticed by anyone in front of her.

Turning slightly, she dropped the back of her hand lightly on her hip, her head tilting back so that her often-disconcerting eyes could easily bore into those of the wolf siblings'.

"Next time, be more careful when you're transporting bloody carcasses, not matter the distances from the church. You're welcome in the Clan for so long as you wish to be here, but you both know the rules. If it is found that either of you pose any sort of threat, or cause any type of harm to those who dwell within the Feral Group, you will be banished and will not be allowed to return."

Letting out a breath, she lifted her hand and rubbed at the back of her head.

"Look kids - I'm not trying to be a bitch. But let's just say that there was a bit of a problem caused by the scent of the bloody deer, and I can't afford to have a bloody riot on my hands," she said, dropping her hand and focusing back on them again. "I can't protect you from everyone and everything, and if enough member of the Feral's protest your being here, I can't save you from the obvious outcome, if such an event were to arise. I'm trying to protect you," she said softly, her Irish accent thickening her voice.

Turning her back to them once more, she brushed her hair back from her face. Moving over to where the rations of food was stored, she hefted a bag that wouldn't have been easily noticed beforehand up onto the wooden table that was there. Untying the strings, she removed several items of fruit that she had picked from the small garden that she had started for everyone, placed them all in a bowl, and moved the bowl to the center of the table.

However, Vera's eyes strayed for a moment to a succulent-looking apple in the bowl. They remained glued to the fruit for several heartbeats, and she was jerked from it only by a light touch to her thigh.

Turning her gaze downward, it caught the watery eyes of Schini, a six-year-old orphan that she had found holed up in a hollow, rotting tree-trunk. Despite the members of the Feral's and her own efforts in the ways of obtaining food and other nourishment for the members of the Group, some of the people were a bit malnourished. It wasn't that they were skin-and-bones - it just wasn't a healthy amount of food that they were receiving.

"Vera, may I have an apple please?" Schini asked, his voice trembling with tears. The poor child was undoubtedly starving, for she had found out countless times that he had either given his food to an animal, or that one of the other children had stolen it from him.

"Schini, what happened to your luncheon rations?"

His dirt-smudged face tilted downwards a bit, his toe scuffing the small sheen of dirt that was on the floor.

"... Hala took it ..." he mumbled, a soft sniffle being heard at the end of his words.

Stifling a sigh, she reached out and snatched the apple up, wiped it clean with a cloth, before holding it out to him. "Here, you can eat this one. And this time, don't let one of the other children bully you into giving it up to them," she said sternly, before reaching out to lightly ruffle his hair. He beamed a smile, took a large, hearty bite, before taking off to God-knew-where in the church.

"You're too easy on the boy."

"Ah, Margaret-Anne - always a pleasure. And what do I owe this lovely chance to speak to the all-ruling queen?" Vera asked, the sarcasm almost tangible enough to cut.

The older woman sneered in her direction, her hand lifting to waggle a finger of disapproval.

"You're far too easy on that child. He's going to grow up weak - a loser."

"Margaret-Anne, he's six. He can barely even hold a weapon, let alone wield one."

"I'm just saying, if I were his mother, I'd-"

"Well, you aren't - and neither am I for that matter. I merely took him in, just as I did everyone else here. If you hold such intense and immense qualms when pertaining to my leadership and my ways, than I suggest you find elsewhere to live. Not that there is any such sanctuary out there, but you're welcome to look for one," she said snarkily.

The woman gaped at her, her anger evident in her shock. She suddenly waggled her finger again, before turning and scurrying away, muttering to herself as she did.

Shaking her head, Vera scowled after Margaret-Anne. "'Tis only proof that one does not truly and fully grow up and mature," she murmured, turning back to face the large entrance room that had once been the ownership of pews, idols, bibles, candelabras, and far more objects that were often used in that of the Catholic Religion for mass. Scattered throughout that room was the base cover-up of the feral Group's operations. If they were ever to be found by the vampires, they would not discover them easily.

Instead of their equipment or rooms in the entrance area, they kept only their immediate supplies in the vicinity. Their common weapons, such as arrows, swords, daggers, holy water, a variety of holy items, and like-wise. Vera had long before disbanded the need for guns - not only did they cause and unnecessary amount of noise that drew not only vampires, but other predators that were long-forgotten by many when the vampires came into play, but they also proved useless against vampires. The only thing that they could do was slow them down, but not even long enough for a person to flee.

In addition to the weapons, they had a small array of food and a small amount of their stored water up there, in order for returning scouts, scavengers, and otherwise to be able to seek immediate relief of their bodies' needs.

That was only the beginning, however. Unbeknownst to anyone who had never been in this particular church, there was a dungeon kept below the building, built into the earth. It was a dreary place when she had first arrived, but after nearly a decade of organizing the Feral Group, she had made it into a warm, welcoming home. There were more than enough rooms - cells, whatever you wished to call them - to go around, along with enough home-made cots, blankets, and other essentials to go around. So long as the person was willing to assist in anything that the Group needed, they were allowed to stay.

However, that was not where the building ends. There was a small room that was used to teach the children and teenagers that had come into the Feral's care, along with a training room that Vera used most often to train in new members, a science room that was used for medical research of medicinal plants - that of which Jason Lachawr was the Head of -, a smaller room for people to relax in, and a rather large room that was used solely for the purpose of weaponry and machinery. Not only was there a large array of weapons in it, but also quite an immense amount of technological devices that she worked on quite a bit. Sometimes, she would go three nights without sleep while working on a new weapon or device to use against the vampires - and it wasn't useless in the least. She had succeeded in creating several new weapons that were quite useful on the field. Garlic-bombs, Holy-Water-Sprinklers, Cross-Bows; literally, they were cross-bows. They shot out crossed laced with garlic and doused in Holy Water. Those were only the beginning.

After the weaponry room, there was a storage room designed only for warm-season food, and a storage room solely for food for the cold seasons.

Crossing her arms, Vera leaned her bottom back against the table, her ankles moving over one-another.

"I believe it is past time for me to call a meeting of the masses, don't you agree, Mr. Lachawr?" she asked, her eyebrow quirking upwards inquisitively.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dinah Character Portrait: Vera Valentine Character Portrait: Dallas Cassidy Character Portrait: Jason 'Doc' Lachawr Character Portrait: Cyrus Character Portrait: Rags
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"The usual. Not much to be said. Woods have been quiet enough." Dinah responded as she grabbed her utility knife to start skinning the deer. She did most of the butchering herself, as well as treating the hides, something that most people seemed to stay well away from. The shed out on the edge of the church yard dedicated to it invariably stunk like a dead pole cat when it was taking place, and that was to human noses. A werewolf nose was considerably more sensitive, so it could not have been pleasant. Still, it allowed for furs and leather for clothing in limited amounts, which allowed them to repair stuff they'd otherwise have to steal to replace.

Cyrus who had been holding the deer's legs dropped them onto the flags once they were done hauling it, looking over to Doc over the other side of the animal.
"Nothing worth having. Woke up with a shredded badger nearby which I suspect was me, and something really nasty on my hands and face. Smelled like the goddamn grave. Makes me wonder if the leeches are burying people in the woods now. Always up to something, and of course The Wolf is all over anything dead. Think it was rolling in the stuff or or something...." he was going to speak more when Vera showed up and promptly hit them.

Something that ever-stoic and apparently resigned Cyrus took without a flinch caused Dinah to yell, slipping with her knife, slicing not only the hide but also the back of her hand. The werewolf shouted an obscenity, hopped to her feet again and glared, not in the least bit impressed by the lecture.

"Yeah, yeah I'm such a bitch for bringing you all three days worth of food. I'll remember to know better next time. "she growled.

Cyrus was not the most personable of people, but he did have the virtue of consistency. He was ill-tempered and yet tended to stay more or less on one even keel all of the time. Di, on the other hand, was moreof a creature of extremes. As cheerful as she could be one minutes was always offset by how angry she could be the next, and her brother could tell she was about to go off on one and did not relish it.
"Don't you think it's a little early to be getting on your soap box?" he asked.

Dinah was not dissuaded.
"Fuck off Cy. I spend all my time trying to get enough supplies together so people won't have to steal this winter, skinning them, butchering them, salting them, carting disgusting fucking bags of deer guts miles away from the church so no-one cottons on, and the rest of you don't even want to known how nasty tanning the hides is, and all I ever get is shit for it! Screw it, you can deal with the damn thing yourselves if having the dirty wolf around dealing with your food such a burden to you. I'm going for a walk."

The young werewolf stalked over to the door, punching the masonry so hard it dislodged some of the mortar before walking off into the churchyard. Cyrus had absolutely no intention of stopping her, partially because once she was in that kind of mood she was not listening to anybody, least of all her brother who she didn't listen to even when happy, and partially because he was less than pleased at the welcome himself.

The fact that their inhumanity got brought up so frequently as a topic was a sore spot, and that was kind of an understatement. The two had been part of the group for going on fifteen years, since Cyrus was six and Dinah was four, and Cyrus had hoped that they had moved past the 'if you slip up we'll kick you out because you're wolves' stage, but it was always clear that it hadn't, and in a sense it was Dinah who was a lot more upset about that fact than he was.

Regardless of what she said, Cyrus was pretty sure DInah wanted people to like her. Far as he was concerned that was her first mistake. He could not really care less what people thought of him ultimately and it'd worked pretty well for him.


-----

The figure who had seemed to be dead until recently, was knelt on the sand, forehead resting against the ground as it struggled to catch its breath.

That was until the click of a gun being levelled forced her to her feet.

The figure, a female, stood up to full height....which admittedly was not that impressive. She probably did not even clear 5'3 despite being, if not an adult, not far off it. Reddish hair hung down her back, chocked and matted with blood and dirty, and the eyes that turned to regard the man were not the same colour. One was a sort of greyish blue, the other cloudy and bloody, clearly of no use.

She regarded the gun for a moment, then looked to the man holding it, as she drew in rapid breaths, after a few moments beginning to speak up.
"...D-designation 22475...."Ragna"....f-forth generation nordic werewolf subspecies import....academic and commercial usage...p-property of Morningside Research and...Education Centre..."

It was spoken in the intonation-devoid manner of something that was learned by rote. Many wolves had been taught to memorize their designation and repeat it when asked, as being a shape-changer it was difficult to supply them with any ID. However the majority of wolves with such designations were law enforcement or security. 'Academic and Commercial' was a designation category not often used, and indicated a werewolf not trained in combat....and for most 'employers' of wolves, combat was the only thing that interested them.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dinah Character Portrait: Vera Valentine Character Portrait: Dallas Cassidy Character Portrait: Jason 'Doc' Lachawr Character Portrait: Cyrus Character Portrait: Rags
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#, as written by CutUp
Dallas studied the scarred female werewolf as she started giving off her designation. "Ragna? Morningside?" Dallas repeated to himself. "Academic and commercial usage? What are you talking about? All our kind is to the vampires are soldiers, glorified cannon fodder."
Dallas then began looking around at their surroundings. "This isn't the best place to be having this discussion. Come on, I've got a hideout not to far from here." Dallas then motioned for her to move in the general direction his cave was in.
"Name's Dallas. Don't ask for my designation, I don't work for the leeches anymore." Dallas introduced himself, somewhat rudely.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Doc glared at Vera when she started berating the werewolves. Dinah stormed off as he expected her to. Doc had thought about going after her and try to calm her down, but he knew it wouldn't help any.
"Yes, I suppose it's time for a meeting. Although I suspect Oscar isn't here. He's probably out doing whatever it is he does." Doc replied. "I don't understand that boy's fascination with the city. It's nothing glamorous."
Doc then went up to Vera's side and whispered in her ear. "Is it really necessary to berate Dinah and Cyrus like that? They've proven themselves plenty of times. Their place in this group should be as secure as anyone else's."