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Lorelai Harkness

the banshee

0 · 284 views · located in Beaumont Hills

a character in “calamity”, as played by Terraformer

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LORALAI.HARKNESS
"If I take refuge in ambiguity, I assure you that it’s quite conscious." - Brewster, Kingman, Jr.

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LORALAI HARKNESS (lo-RAH-lie ; HARK-ness)
NICKNAMESxxxxxxxxlora | those closest to her

AGExxxxxx.x.x.x.xxxxxeighteen
DATE OF BIRTHxxx.xnovember 5th

GENDERxxxxx.xxxxxxfemale
ORIENTATIONxxx.x.xheterosexual

ETHNICITYxx....xxxxxirish
NATIONALITYxxx...xxamerican

DIALOGUExxxxx.xxxx#228b22
THOUGHTxxxxx.x.xxx#319135


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HEIGHTxxxxx.xxxxxxx5'11"
WEIGHTxxx...xx..xxxx130
HAIRxxxxxxxxxx.xxxxxdark brown | long | curly/wavy
EYESxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxgreen

APPEARANCExx.xxxLoralai is every bit of her Irish heritage in appearance. Pale, alabaster skin, with cheeks that get rosy xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxif she stays out in the sun too long. Her hair is very dark, almost black and falls in unruly curls down to xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxher waist. Loralai is also taller than your average high school girl and at 5'11" she can look most high xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxschool boys in the eye too. Her height is probably the feature she dislikes most because you can't xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxblend in when you're a head above the rest. She does, however, take pride in her physique. She xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxdoesn't like to sleep, she dreams about death too much for most people to handle, so she exhausts xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxherself with martial arts and calisthenics to the point where she can pass out without hearing the xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxvoices.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxLoralai's eyes are bright green, but you'll often see her wearing sunglasses to cover them as they can xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxbe red and dark from fitful sleep or tears. Being a harbinger of death hasn't done much for her beauty xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxsleep. On that same vein, her style is your typical coffee-shop college goth. Just a bunch of dark xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxfabrics layered around semi-stylishly. She just genuinely likes to be comfortable.

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POWERSxxxxxx.xxxx sonic screamx.The Scream of a banshee is their primary supernatural tool. Banshees scream xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxwhen they are experiencing a premonition of death. Their Scream can only be heard by those with a xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxsupernatural sense of hearing. They can be heard from miles away, even to a werewolf's magnitude of xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxhearing. The banshee can use their Scream in the manner of a trigger, as a lever over their abilities xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxand hearing. The Scream is used to drown out all other surrounding sounds so a banshee can zone in xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxand focus on what only they can hear. Another purpose of the Scream is it can be used as an xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoffensive weapon. Because of their hearing, other banshees or other supernaturals who possess a xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxsupernatural sense of hearing, will be harmed by a Scream. Also, with enough control over their xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxtalents, a banshee using their physiology: ie, their palms or legs can project the Scream against an xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxopponent with concussive force.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxdeath whisperx.A banshee's power largely manifests as the ability to hear. They hear voices in xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxtheir heads that only they can receive and translate. These voices they hear are the messages of their xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxown kind. Banshees are attuned to a level of the universe nothing else is. This network broadcasts xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxsupernatural messages surrounding death to a banshee. They are able to connect to this network and xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxissue messages of their own, broadcast their own 'whispers' surrounding death, or communicate with xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxother banshees
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxdeath harbingerx.Banshees cannot only predict death, they can identify where death occurred, xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxand sense someone's death becoming aware of their passing away just by 'feeling' it. They, upon xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxsensing a death caused by the supernatural, will be drawn to where the death has occurred in order to xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxalert others to what has happened. Harbingers of Death, after sensing that a death has occurred, will xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxtypically be drawn to the site of the death; if the Harbinger in question is a Banshee, the woman will xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxeither scream upon feeling the death, or they will scream after they have been drawn to the body. In xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxnewly-activated Harbingers, they will go into an unconscious trance-like state and wander to the site xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxof the death, but as they gain experience, they will be able to stay at least somewhat conscious in xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxorder to have better control over their actions.

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LIKES
chess | reading | dancing | hard rain | singing |
scary movies | hot tea | being alone | listening to records |
70's music | sleeping | cold weather |
quiet walks | drawing |
DISLIKES
attention | the voices | bright lights | labels |
rules | sports | the bubbly types | the smell of vanilla |
coffee | tight spaces | vulnerability |
coffee | bugs

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STRENGTHS
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXXnatural intelligence | she's always been very book smart and excelled at her studies
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXXempathetic | she's natually compassionate even if she has a hard time expressing it
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXXartistic | she tries to find some positivity in the arts plane
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXXhonesty | it's not in her to lie
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXXself-regulating | she's self aware enough to know what's appropriate

WEAKNESSES
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXXbit pessimistic | it's difficult to keep a positive outlook in hersituation
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXXreckless | she hasn't taken the time to ponder whether it's bravery or lac of concern
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXXanxious | in these times she has a lot to worry over
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXXdepressive episodes | she's still human. sometimes the resposibility is too much.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXXunpredictabilty | kind of goes without saying

β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬

PERSONALITY
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Loralai is a girl at the mercy of her situation. It can tend to affect her...everything. She copes the best she can, what with the gore, the hallucinations, dead bodies, and supernatural beings attempting to personally take over her study time. But she's not perfect and more often than not she finds herself dealing with these things alone. Ever since her mom married her current husband she's been pretty absent. That coupled with Loralai's crippling fear to get close to anyone for fear they'll be violently shuffled from their mortal coil, means she's just plain lonely.
That said, she's not just a huge Eeyore sucking all the fun out of the room. At school she the "cool, coffee shop type". She wears drapey, moody clothes, sunglasses inside and she's known to be monosyllabic. She might even offer a head nod hear and then if she accidentally makes eye contact. To her, it just wouldn't do any good for anyone to involve people in her problems. She's pretty good with icebreakers and punchlines, and she can definitely spin a yarn. Anything to distract herself and others from the truth. As stated previously, though, she is human, and thus she does have wants. She does want friends, she wants to fall in love and do all of the things other teenagers do, but she's afraid.
Loralai is a creative soul. She loves all kinds of music, and finds solace in reading and creating her own art. She could spend hours with a canvas and some coal or paint as it's one of the only things besides extensive exercise that quiets her thoughts and allows her to relax. This only adds to her "art kid" persona since she sketches whenever and wherever the mood strikes. That might get most kids in trouble considering how much time the average teenager spends in a classroom, but as far as she's concerned art has never been at the cost of her studies. Honestly most days she's just trying to make it just like everyone else, only with a significantly more gruesome(loud) secret. Just remember cool kid with a dry sense of humor and cries a lot and you should be fine.

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ORIGINS
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Loralai was originally born in a no-name hamlet in rural Ireland to a teen mom with no prospects, or a father for her kid, and the sweetest grandmother in the world. If you asked her who she considered her mother 9/10 she'd say, granny Siobhan. Only one other time if her mom was around. Her mom was just... a teen. She wasn't ready to be a mom and Loralai always suspected she never really wanted to be a mother in the first place. This would manifest in late-night parties and just general emotional neglect. But her grandmother was always there. She has no proof, but she's almost positive her grandmother was a banshee as well. She used to sit Loralai on her knee and tell her stories of supernatural beings and the energy that holds us all together. Loralai would sit wrapt with attention as Siobhan told her at length of Werewolves, druids, and ghosties. Her mother hated it though, said she didn't want granny to fill her head with nonsense like she tried when mum was a child. So, of course, they did it in secret.
Loralai spent 8 wonderful years with her granny and she would have never believed it could come to an end so violently. One day they were sitting and enjoying their evening tea, her mum watching tv, when granny went quiet suddenly, and just slumped over the table silently. Loralai, of course, was terrified and she jumped up and started shaking her granny and yelling. Her mother ran into the room and looked on the scene, Loralai sobbing and sputtering while shaking granny's arm, and that was the first(and last) time she saw genuine concern on her mother's face. Her mother lightly pushed Loralai away and lifted up granny's head and checked her pulse. She turned and yelled at her to "CALL 999!" and Loralai ran to the kitchen and dialed an emergency on the phone. Minutes later, too long in her opinion, the ambulance arrived and she was being looked over by the paramedics. Her heartbeat was faint they said, but Loralai's heart couldn't have pumped harder. Suddenly her whole world had seen to be reversed and she had no idea what to do. And as she stood and watched her granny being loaded into the back of the ambulance she knew somehow her life wouldn't be the same after that. Of course, she was pondering this and just trying to wrap her child's mind around the situation while the Earth kept spinning. The paramedics closed the doors loudly and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Her mother brushed passed her, putting on her jacket and unlocking her car. "Lora, stay here and be a good girl. I have to follow the ambulance to hospital." Loralai instantly started to object, "No but's, you're too young to be anywhere near an emergency room. I'll be back as soon as I can or try to call. Lock the doors and try to go to bed."
And that was all she said before entering her vehicle and driving off with the ambulance. Loralai slowly made her way back into the house, dragging her feet as she turned off all the lights, the tea still warm on the breakfast table. She vaguely remembers climbing into bed and turning off her bedside lamp before burying herself neath her quilt. She doesn't know if whether what happened next was a dream or some kind of strange hallucination but she was suddenly bombarded with visions of her grandmother bleeding everywhere, a sinister cutting across her throat. Some looked like her grandmother was drowning. The worst one was the shadowy figure standing over her granny's body, her bloody and still-beating heart in it's disfigured hand. The horror, the stress, and these visions became too much for Loralai to handle, and she sat up and screamed. She screamed with all her might and pain as tears streamed down her face and the house shook. And she hasn't quit since.
I could go without saying now that granny Siobhan didn't survive long after being admitted to hospital. Her mom came home in the wee hours of the morning looking haggard and distant. "Granny's gone home to God Lora. Nottin' dey could do." and they both cried together for a while. Life after that passed like a blur and before she knew it the funeral had passed. It wasn't even long after that that her mom was telling her they were selling the house which of course was very upsetting news. "I don't want to hear it again Lora. We're leaving. There's nottin' here for us anymore." And so they packed up their lives and moved to America. Loralai can remember dozens of schools with dozens of nameless faces of friends she couldn't keep while her mom was too busy finding herself. Well on that quest she seemed to find herself a husband at least. Apparently they met at the country club her mom worked at while they were settled in Charleston and he wanted to whisk her( and the kid) to sunny California. Not much Loralai could say really at 14 so she congratulated her mom and tried to be civil and grateful. She just hoped this marriage meant they'd actually settle down for once. But nothing would ever settle for her.
She had all but forgotten what happened the night her granny died. The visions, the screaming... she had apparently put it out of her mind. But one foot in Beaumont Hills and it all came rushing back like a flood. As the years went by of course they got worse. Loralai remembers nights when she'd bite her cheek so hard she'd bleed. She denied it for years, still does to this day. Sometimes though, it explodes out of her and she can't control the sheer magnitude of pain she feels. Voices she can't hear clearly speaking words she understands or waking up in strange places, she gets progressively more confused and terrified. She doesn't know why she's constantly seeking something she can't find or why she sees terrible things and can't control her own voice. And she has no one to ask. Now she's a senior in high school and she's wondering where her life went and where it's going to go when she graduates. One thing is for sure though, something is tensing up in Beaumont Hills, and she feels like a walking homing beacon.

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ROLEPLAYERxxxxXXTerraformer

CS BYxxxxxxxxxxxxXXRubyTuesday

FACE CLAIMxxx.xxXXLorde

β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬β–¬
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So begins...

Lorelai Harkness's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Reagan Venandi Character Portrait: Hiroto Naozaki Character Portrait: Riley Montgomery Character Portrait: Thomas Jackson Character Portrait: Lorelai Harkness Character Portrait: Dorothea Henley Character Portrait: Brook Delaney
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by mombie
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Reagan Venandi

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the hunter | #3592a0 | outfit

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The night had gone by, perhaps more slowly than it had come. Reagan could not remember if she had successfully closed her eyes or not, or if she was maybe sleeping wide awake in some crazy nightmare scene. A lot of things have been brought to a new and uncomfortable light - she may have seen the Alpha for who he was as a human, and she now had undeniable proof that Riley was something else entirely. The greatest confusion comes, not for seeing them for what they were when the moon rises and the night takes them over, but in knowing that they weren't bad people. Her mother always said that these monsters were so because they were also monsters in their mortal lives.

But that seemed untrue.

She's also pissed at Brook - so pissed that she can't fathom seeing his face without also watching as her palm uncontrollably connects with his overly handsome face. She doesn't know what happened to him or where he went, either, and he let her worry like that. It almost made her sick to her stomach. He's such an asshole.

What was she supposed to do, though? Armed with all of this information, does she just go out into the light of day and roam the school like nothing ever happened? Was Riley going to be scared of her now? Most of all - was there something for her to be scared of? Maybe there was. Maybe there wasn't. She didn't quite know right now.

The first rays of a Saturday morning sunrise peek through the curtains, and Reagan finally rolls herself out of bed. After a very slow shower, if one could call it a shower and not contemplating in a sauna, she tugged on a pair of bright pink leggings, a sports bra, and some running shoes. There are a lot of things to do right now - errands to run. She had to go to the store, maybe get through a workout at the gym, go for a run, take a look over the armory, avoid people if that was possible. Her mother was far too busy with hunter stuff to deal with her today, and Reagan was fine with that.

She spent most of the morning to the early afternoon by herself, but that was just her life.

By the time the late afternoon rolled about, around three pm or so (she wasn't keeping track), she had accomplished all of her tasks and slipped into a t-shirt sans bra, jeans, and some white flats. She didn't look her best - a face without much makeup save for brows and a spot of mascara, a light dusting of pink for her lips. Her hair was obviously towel-dried and laid a bit messily, and the dark circles under her eyes accented her just rolled out of bed look.

She dipped out of the house and strolled down the streets of the town, which are always busy at this time of day. Children were with their parents at the park, families roamed hand-in-hand to this shop or that. It was just small-town America doing what it does best. The only thing that separated it from the rest was that the residents seem to always be a little more alert, but not for all the reasons you might think.

There was police activity at the school; an active crime scene since the Chimera Amanda chomped a boy to death. The Sheriff was there along with other authority figures; many of which operated under the long lineage of hunters and or other Supernaturals since the town's conception. While the Sheriff was not in the know of all the Supernatural stuff, his concern for a death in a town like this was not at all surprising - he was very much on the alert. This place hasn't seen a ton of murders for a long time, just the every now and again tragic accident; like the one that had awoken the Nemeton. That was ruled as an accident, and it was case closed.

This, though, was different. Reagan stood back behind one of the buses; a palm placed on the yellow surface as she peeked around its back corner. They even called in animal control. Everyone who was anyone was here, and that included friends of her mother that operated as a deputy or two and even the principal. The crime scene tape was stretched across the doors of the Beaumont High, and parents were going to get the call that school would be canceled for Monday.

She turned around and placed her back against the bus, looking up at the clear blue skies. She pushed herself away and started to walk in the other direction, making a mental note to grab a friend and come by the school later. Maybe Brook, after she's done giving him a piece of her mind.

cron