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~;Vesta Genevieve Carter;~

"Darkness does not always equate to evil, just as light does not always bring good."

0 · 199 views · located in Earth

a character in “Heaven and Hell (Just for a Girl)”, as played by Michaelis_xXx_Elly




“Without accepting the fact that everything changes, we cannot find perfect composure. But unfortunately, although it is true, it is difficult for us to accept it. Because we cannot accept the truth of transience, we suffer.” ~Shunryu Suzuki



(Real) Full Name:

Mallory Genevieve Coatl. A name she has come to despise with every fiber of her being- her own factual mother that she never came to know, naming her such a thing. Her real mother didn't deserve to name her at all after abandoning her and leaving her with the monster called her 'Foster Father'. Vesta never came to terms with people calling her Mallory, the origin of the name gave her chills.

MALLORY: English surname transferred to unisex forename use, from a Norman French byname for an unfortunate person, derived from Old French malheure, meaning "unfortunate, unhappy, unlucky."

XIUHCOATL: Nahuatl unisex name meaning "fire serpent" or "weapon of destruction."

Her name held so much truth in it that she wouldn't be able to stand people calling out to her. She felt she was just down-right unlucky to be Blessed with such a name. What was running through her real mother's head when she looked down at her newborn child- naming her something so.. so malicious? Getting fed up with all the bullying and crap she was getting for her name she decided to rename herself. Vesta Genevieve Carter- Vesta meaning one of the three Greek goddesses that were the keepers of the 'Sacred Fire'. Meaning Light... and Hope. The two things she needed in her life- the assurance she needed to get through each day. The past is the past, and the only thing to do is to move forward with no regrets. Maybe she'd find them both one day... and that day is coming sooner then she thought.



She's been called a lot of things throughout her years of growing up, her foster father's weren't exactly the best. Though she hates nicknames because, well, they feel like pet names- and she hates the feeling of being owned or trapped. Her free spirit not allowing such a thing happen- she's only really had three nicknames that she's approved of.

A regular nickname for her (Known on the streets as-): Due to her street smarts and clever brain she's been called Zula which means brilliant or ahead. Though it's not her favorite nickname, it does give a boost to her pretty much non-existent ego.

Of course she's been called other names that are just a shortened version of her actually name. Mal, Jen, Munchy, yea anything stupid and under the sun. Her favorite so far would probably be the wondrous and majestic Coat. People are just so creative sometimes that it actual just hurts.


Vesta isn't one to purposely mark her body with tattoos, though she's not above piercings. She has a dream catcher belly button ring that signifies hope in her eyes. It's probably the only and last piercing she'll get. Scars? Of course she has a few here and there, running rampant through the streets for years will do that to you, no? Though she barely will stop to fight someone, if it's to survive it's a natural human instinct right? On her upper right shoulder blade there's a scar that starts from the tip of her shoulder blade to the middle of her back from when she was jumped on the first night out alone. But she'd take any hit, kick, bruise, punch, as long as she was away from them.

Likes, Dislikes and personality:

Not many things catch her interest but she does have a few activities that she thinks of as hobbies. As odd as it is, she really loves to design outfits in her spare time. She'd doodle little sketches of outfits here and there, adding hair styles down to what color their nails should be. It's an embarrassing hobby that she'll never admit, perhaps her imagination never truly left. Another hobby of hers would just to be caught up on the news and long walks by herself. Not being able to come to trust someone easily- being alone isn't a weird thing to her. Around large groups of people she puts on a front- pretty much saying- say one wrong thing to me and watch what happens. Probably where her personality emerged from. Although she hates when people brag about themselves, she does end up finding her self bragging about things herself. She likes to think that everyone respects her, letting her street smarts take over and do the talking whenever speaking. Get to know her a bit more, and your view of her will change completely. Modest, caring, and a bit protective. Being one to throw herself in front of a bullet for someone she loves. No one like that has entered her life since her childhood- so trusting someone right off the bat is a bit foreign to her. She does push herself somewhat to try and make some acquaintances, but she can never really truly open up to someone. Especially when it comes to men- her history with them explains enough.

Appearance and Style:

Standing at the height of 5'6, Vesta isn't your average short and curvy teenager. Being out on the streets gave her a more unique build then anything, her eyes seem to be a wild and untamed Auburn ashes. A waist of 23", hips 34" and wildish layered black hair, she almost has an exotic look that makes you double take. Her chest isn't exactly flat but not exactly huge either, at a comfortable 32". Her lashes outline her eyes, making them pop- her lips full, with a heart-shaped face. Though she seems lanky she's not as weak and defenseless as she appears to be, knowing how to throw a good punch when needed. Her teeth are white and nearly reflect the sun when she smiles. She wouldn't really be under the 'model' category but more as a natural beauty- one that's hard to tame. Her eye's give off a challenge with every flicker of her gaze. You wouldn't even catch her dead in a skirt or dress. She much prefers a laid back sort of style, baggy t-shirts and an old pair of ripped up jeans. Her favorite pair of gloves are always on and if not they're always in her back pocket. When it gets warmer out she'll start wearing her black or red capri's to keep away from heat stroke- along with a tank top.


History/Back Story:

"I haven't smiled once since the day you were born."

These words were etched into her head as a newborn baby and repeated to her throughout her childhood. She never could fathom why it was her that got thrown into this kind of situation. The typical abused teen that runs away from home to join the circus, right? Well no. Never laid eyes on her factual mother, didn't know her name, where she was, why she gave her up... What did she do to deserve this?. Her small frail six year old body shook violently as she looked up at the monster in front of her. Monsters didn't exist is what parents would tell their children every night after telling them they loved them with all their hearts. But what do you do when your parent was the monster? Vesta will never forgive that man for what he did to her as a child. She remembered when her heart would always nearly jump right out of her chest as she heard the front door slam open at midnight. Always exactly at midnight... she's hide under her blankets, quivering as she heard the monsters feet drag across the carpet towards her room. She'd squeeze her eyes shut, knowing the monster would disappear when she opened her eyes again. Then she'd feel it. His disgusting moist breath that smelled of alcohol and death.

'Well hellloo durl'in, wanna play wit' dadda?'

So what did you do, when your father was the monster?

After eleven years of putting up with that man, she finally did it. He passed out She finally got away from him, and all the stress and hatred that had built up in her throughout the years washed away with the rain as she hoped onto the train tracks and made her way under that huge willow tree in the back woods of the town. Nature never looked so comforting before, and now she could breath. After running from her home she made sure to bring a few necessities such as money (that she had taken from him) about fifty bucks, his pocket knife, the ring she always wears since it's the only thing that she felt connected her with her mother, and three duffle bags full of clothes.

She hated being alone, but anything sounded good then. After about a month of being alone on the streets she met others, some like her, other that had been dropped in an alleyway at young ages. She came to trust them, but never fully. Most of her acquaintances were female and they taught her most of the things she knows to this day. She quickly adapted to living life on the streets- never doing anything too risky, avoiding fights and the cops. After getting a job she lives alone in a small two-bedroom apartment that had a pretty decent living room, kitchen, and bathroom. She doesn't exactly know why she rented a two-bedroom apartment, maybe just the thought of another room made her feel less lonely? Though it'd all change soon enough, not even her streets smarts could get her past this obstacle.

Character Quick Facts


-Smokes (When Annoyed)
-Taps her nails on hard surfaces (When Nervous)
-When staring off into space she glares, and it seems like she's glaring at someone when she's actually not

Favorite types of Music:

Acoustic - Alternative Rock - Blues - Jazz

Favorite Color(s):

Turquoise and velvet

Favorite Food(s):

Watermelons and Cherries

Also Chinese food.


Sketching - Lazing around - Being caught up on News

Writing Sample--"E S C A P I N G":

Loud pants could be heard, echoing off the wall of the small inhabitant of the room, hyperventilating would be more accurate. The frail child clutched at her head- it felt like a jack-hammer was pounding in her head mercilessly. All but clawing at her head- she bit down on her quivering bottom lip as she peaked out from the crack of her closet. The monster wouldn't be able to find her there, right? His games of hide n' seek weren't ever fair- she'd always loose and nothing good ever happened when she lost. Her shoulder length tresses covered her small innocent face as she buried her head between her legs. The monsters footsteps were getting louder and louder and louder. Then she'd hear it, him crooning her name softly to cox her out of her safety and only sanity. Mallory.... Mallory... 'No, please stop, my names ugly..stop..' Tears trailed down her cheeks causing her shirt to become soaked, moving further back into the closet she could hear her door to her prison swing open.

"Mallory...darl'in i'm gun' find you anyway', so why not jus' com'in out now? Let dada' play with you...."

She'd whimper and without thinking she found herself holding onto of her metal coat hangers. It all went in slow motion from there. The doors to the closet swung open and there he stood, a monster couldn't be anymore terrifying. As he reached for her with that big grin on his face she swung the hanger- impaling his hand with the end of it. In a quick flurry of action she pushed herself up and past him as he swore and pulled the hanger out- a string of curse words flying from his mouth as he made another grab for her. He wasn't always like she remembered when he'd play dolls with her, tea time, and eat the cookies him and mom made for him. No, not her real mother... but she was the closet things she had to one. That faithless day she was in that accident he'd never been the same. That gentle glow of his eye faded into something monstrous- his drinking becoming more greater, and that's when the games started. She ran, she ran as fast as her little feet could go as she ran into the kitchen. Her eyes darted around hopelessly- trying to think of any type of plan her eleven year old brain could muster. His heavy but sluggish footsteps were speeding up down the hallway towards her.Quickly ducking behind the counter, she grabbed onto one of the rollers from the table.

"That wasn' 'ery nice Mal-Mal, now dada's gun' have to punish you. I was gun' make you feel real nice..."

Mentally beating herself up- her sudden hiccup caused him to whip around and smirk down at her. The roller behind her back as she looked up at him from under the counter. Trapped, cornered... alone. All her thoughts faded as she could only think of one thing as she slowly began to inch the roller out from behind her, and swing in upwards into his chin. 'Bye-bye daddy....'. As a child you wanted someone to look up to, someone who'll protect you. Protect you from the bad guys and monsters. He fell back onto the floor with a thud- Mallory's breaths evened out after five minutes, shaking like a leaf in the wind as she stood and dropped the roller to the floor. Shakily stepping over his being- the wallet in his pocket was quickly taken from him.

She ran towards the front door but stopped herself- she needed clothes. Taking his pocket knife and three duffle bags full of her clothes she ran out of the house into the rain. Rain..of course it'd be raining. Rain never felt so good as it rinsed her fears away- promising a new day. She ran and never looked back. Don't look back cause that's not the way you're going.... After spending six hours alone under her favorite willow tree, shivering and sobbing to herself- she felt a hand on her shoulder. They hushed her before she could scream, causing her to look up. It was a girl that seemed to be around the age of sixteen, she had beautiful exotic green eyes and wild unruly blonde hair. Her face marred in splotches of dirt and her clothes not exactly clean, she knew that she could trust this girl. Her name was Bella... and she'd never forget the day she leaned down and held out her hand to her and said four words to her.

"You're not alone anymore..."

So begins...

~;Vesta Genevieve Carter;~'s Story