BASICS
- Nickname: Maria
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Home: Holly's League- a brothel
PHYSICALLY
- Appearance:
Hair: Her deep, dark black tendrils are thick and full, voluminous curls tumbling down her back whenever she lets it down.
Eyes: Maria's eyes are peculiar indeed. Despite being a dull black in color, they still manage to captivate, enchanting those who have courage enough to look at her directly. It's almost as if the hollow, black pits rimmed with her long, dark lashes suck in their prey. Her gaze is unsettling to most, and she's notorious for making intense eye contact, never downcasting those haunting eyes of hers or shying away from a person.
Build: Maria is curvaceous with an hourglass figure, though her hips are just slightly wider than her bust. Although she's got plenty of bosom and bum to go around, her waist is thin. Being a wench in the brothel, her body is just about the only good thing about her, as far as others are concerned. She definitely prides herself on it.
Skin Tone: Pale as death
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 138 lbs
Voice: Husky and sensual, her voice is a combination of both her natural tonation and the act she puts up to get more costumers. It is deep for a woman, though not unfeminine.
MENTALLY
- Personality: Maria is a snarky, manipulative, lecherous, sensual creature. She is bold and offensive, never having been one to pussy foot around the cold hard truth... or a well placed lie, for that matter. She seems to be honest when it is most troublesome and most deceitful when unnecessary. Indeed, a fiery woman filled with all too many contradictions. Many - especially well-to-do women- find her repulsive and dirty, since she refuses to play coy or conservative, letting her carnal instincts run rampant and unafraid to speak of debauchery. Maria is no fool, and while she may be a whore by profession, she does not lack substance. She's actually quite clever, though this should be no surprise to the countless men and women she's duped along the years. Quite frankly, the girl is a riot. She's never without a witty insult, taunting and teasing being one of her specialties. Her humor is odd and sadistic, and she is well exercised in banter. Maria is ridiculously curious, going above and beyond to keep her life as interesting as possible. She is rough around the edges, and isn't one for "feeling". Just the word is enough to make her roll her eyes and scoff. Insults and jeers roll of her like water off a ducks back and pledges of unrequited love don't even begin to burrow into that frosty heart of hers. Everyone who knows better understands that Maria is a con artist and never to be trusted. You'd be surprised the extents she'd go for personal gain.
Bio: Believe it or not, the boisterous Maria you know now was once no more than a mild mannered, aristocratic Miss Mereworth. Maria spent her childhood coddled by her wealthy parents and force fed education by private tutors. There was nothing all that remarkable about her until she was about fifteen years old and she met, of course, a boy. She had been sent to the store to fetch some milk and had taken to exploring the streets with fever, as it wasn't often she was allowed to roam without a guide to keep her "safe". As she inspected a fruit stand, she was surprised to see a hand dart out from under the table and snatch one of the oranges there. The man running the stand, noticing that one of his fruits had been stolen, instantly began to scold Maria for her theft and demanded that she return the parcel. Maria was shocked and could only barely manage to nervously spit out that she hadn't stolen anything when she felt the hand from before place something in her hands. The manager, preoccupied with searching for a phone, didn't notice this, naturally, but did notice the orange peeking out between her pale fingers. Enraged, he grabbed Maria by her collar and screamed at her for her insolence. All the while, Maria was much too preoccupied to feel guilty because she could hear a boyish, impish snicker from under the table. Just as the large, brutish shop keeper set her down and called up the authorities (and Maria finally realized the seriousness of this prank), the boy from under the table dashed out, grabbed Maria's hand, and bolted away in a sloppy escape that would leave the two teens panting furiously a good distance away. Both of them plopping onto the ground and catching their breath, Maria finally took a gander at this mysterious boy, noting his peachy skin, sun-bleached blond hair, scattered freckles, and shockingly green eyes.
She would soon learn that her name was Dag Merrington, he came from a troubled home, his favorite smell was lavender, and that he had the softest lips in the entire world. Inevitably, she fell in love. Dag was nothing more than a bad influence on the young girl. She had lived a sheltered life and it seemed that he had set his mischievous eyes on corrupting her in every way possible. Maria, so enraptured by the charming, bold, handsome blond was so easily influenced by him that it wasn't long before she'd picked up his thieving, vandalizing, instigating ways. She found herself bound tightly to the street lifestyle- just as tightly as she was bound to his heart. Much to her parent's dismay, she would skip tutoring to go have a drunken go with her boyfriend, suddenly the chaste, proper raising dissipating in those smoldering green eyes of his. She'd become a bad egg, a disgrace, a whore. This wasn't all Dag's fault, of course. He'd merely been the spark to the fuse, and the rest was undeniably her own motives. Still, you couldn't blame Maria's concerned parents for feeling he was responsible and they strictly prohibited him from spending anymore time with the girl- even after three years of dating. In a brash rebellion, it only made sense that Dag married her that very same day. This lead to her getting kicked out of her own home and being forced to inhabit the streets (and sometimes Dag's bed when his father wasn't around).
Through this time together, Maria met Dag's step mother who just so happened to work at the brothel. While Dag was embarrassed of this, Maria found herself wildly interested in it. The woman made the lifestyle seem so exciting! Why, she'd bedded with famous artists, musicians, politicians, scientists! She visited the brothel, dubbed Holly's Leaguer, in secrecy, keeping this fact far away from Dag's overprotective nose. She got a job there to get money for her and Dag. They were planning on running away, but with both of them being dirt poor, there was little they could do. Maria will always claim she did it because she loved him, but it also had something to do with her burning curiosity. Perhaps you didn't know this, but being a whore and being in a relationship rarely coincide. Dag found out about Maria's antics because he was visiting the brothel to see if his step mother was there and witnessed Maria... well, doing her job. Outraged, he ripped her away from the man and practically dragged her to their "home"- an alley way. They fought, as couples might, tears streaming down both of their faces as angry spits were chucked at one another. They didn't mean what they said, but it hurt nonetheless. The fight ended with Dag slumping onto the floor, placing his head in his hands.
"Dammit, Maria... Then maybe we shouldn't be together." his voice cracked as he said it, obviously crying. Maria felt her breath hitch in her lungs, devastation at his words crashing into her. She would have said something if she wouldn't have been so heart broken. They fought all the time, but he'd never said something like this before. Her black eyes widened as he continued. "My father offered for me to move in with him up north to get a job and start a real life. I'm going to do it." Now his voice was even, firm, factual. He raised his face to pierce into her with those green eyes of his. That night, they made passionate love. Maria assumed that meant his words had been withdrawn, that everything was alright again, but to her horror he was missing the next morning. That was the day Maria stopped feeling. Now, she's as calloused as calloused can be. Love is meaningless in her eyes, and it certainly doesn't belong in her heart. Not ever again. The boy who'd introduced her to this sick life had called chicken and left her because of it. It's been four years since then, and in between then and now she's made tons of money in the brothel and has managed to shove back all feelings and emotions. Nobody knows of his aristocratic past or about the suppressed angst she still feels towards the boy she has vowed to kill.