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Vivian Cross

aka Ghelhiest "The Transgressor"

0 · 138 views · located in The Infinite Void

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Emmi-Heldt

Description

[align=center]Image
(Left: Sane Vivian Right: Frenzied Vivian)[/align]
General
Full Name: Vivian Cross, Ghelhiest
Age: As old as time itself.
Gender: Female/None
Species: Doppelganger
Race: Currently Human
Descent: English (Body)
Honorifics/Titles/Nicknames: "The Transgressor"
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual/Asexual
Birthplace: Yorkshire, England (Body)
Date of Birth: Questionable.
Strengths: ...
Weaknesses: ...
Disabilities: ...
Abilities (Magical or Otherwise): I'm a doppelganger, I eat bodies and then have the ability to become them. I also can drift through time and space, but honestly, I can't control where I land. I can do a tiny "rift walk", but I can only go short distances.

Appearance
Markings/Tattoos/Piercings:
Height: Five foot, eight inches
Weight: One hundred and twenty pounds.
Physical Condition: Thin, almost emaciated.
Eye Color: White, void of irises.
Hair Color: Silvery.
Skin Tone: Pale, on the grey end.


Occupation and Location
Occupation: Drifter.
Education:
Language(s): Any and all.
Now Lives: Questionable.
Lives With: Lover (Vivian Cross)


Relationships
Relationship Status: Single/Married. (Vivian Cross)
Family/Relatives: Ezreal Cross (Deceased)
Accomplices: None.
Organizations/Tribes/Clans: None.
Former Affiliations: None.
Current Relationships: Vivian Cross (Lover/Wife)


Hobbies and Interests
Likes: Fresh Blood
Flesh
Intelligent Conversation
Keeping Sane
Ogling Bodies
Dislikes: Flying into a Frenzy
Gibbering
Real Vampires, I dislike the competition.
Crowded, Congested Areas.
Loosing My Self Control.
Hobbies: Socializing with upper crust societies.
Interests: Money, Men, Women, Bodies, Fresh Meat...


Hopes and Fears
Goals: Currently: To find her next meal.
Life's Ambition: To find a body for Vivian to take over.
Fears: ...
Crippling Fear: ...


Personality
With Friend(s): ...
With Lover(s): ...
With Enemies: ...
General philosophy: ...
Least Outspoken About: ...
Most Outspoken About: ...
Mannerisms: ...
Psychological Condition: ...


History
The Early Years: We live between worlds. We walk rifts, contort through realms, we bring with us the unimaginable and the impossible. We are many, we are none, we are all, we are none. We are doppelgangers. We are you, yet not you. We are monsters, we feed upon you, then take your shape. We covet the bodies you work so hard to manipulate into your warped image known as "beauty". We take you as you are, suck you in, and spit you out. We are no one, we can be anyone.
I have no name, but at one point I was called Ezreal. I had eaten a noble ages past and took his form. I lived his life, married his wife, helped consummate his daughter, but I wasn't Ezreal, I was just some thing holed up in a hollowed out husk of a man that used to be. His wife was a harpy, his mistress was bland and tasteless, but his daughter, once she grew old enough to marry, she was perfect. I had staged Ezreal to die a "natural" death, but in all honesty, I fed on a charming young man who was no one of any status and riches, and left what was left of Ezreal in a bed, covered in blood. No one spoke of him after that.
The man was named Johnathan, such a plain name. He was a beggar, or a stable hand, or some lower class worker of some sort. No one would assume a thing. A killer has to change their modus operandi often so patterns do not shock the general public. I made Johnathan into a millionaire in a manner of months, I had lived long enough and in enough realms to know how to not alter the course of history as well as make inconspicuous money in bulk. I charmed my way into Ezreal's family once more, since I knew everything about his wife and daughter, I did marry the woman in my last body and help raise the child, and somehow won the affections of his daughter.
Later On: Before we got married, however, something struck me as odd: the girl had white hair and eyes, I had known that since her birth, and I didn't find it all that odd, but it was the telepathic connection that all doppelgangers share that somewhat scared and confused me. She seemed to know what I was going to do to her once I had whisked her away, she didn't seem to be scared, but fascinated. She wanted to know more about us riftwalking creatures who fed upon others to survive and maintain balance. For once, I had fallen in love with this body for all that she was, and not because she was perfect in every way for my tastes.
On the night before our wedding, I consumed her, but a piece of her consciousness seemed to latch onto mine, feeding off of me slightly to survive. The feeding she practiced on me was mental, but she managed to suck out my sanity little by little. She made me hungry all the time, hungry and insane. I would fly into little blood lusts, and I found that feeding upon the blood of a living creature would sate my frenzies for a while. I became what was known as a "vampire" in so many types of lore, but the craving for flesh was what I had, not the blood.
The blood just kept me from eating people alive. At least with the sanity that was being sucked out of me, my daughter, nay, my lover gave me a sense of self control. My only goal now is to give her a body, one that looks exactly like the body I stole from her, and the consciousness of a doppelganger as opposed to one of a human's. Both are nearly impossible tasks, but I will continue to walk rifts and avoid my own to provide for my lover. I only hope I can find a wonderful female body after this is all over, I'm tired of being a man all the time.
I am nameless once more. I am no one, but I can be anyone. I am a doppelganger.
Now: ...

So begins...

Vivian Cross's Story

Setting

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Character Portrait: Vivian Cross
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An uncomfortable sensation of a rip within the Multiverse slowly manifesting itself seemed to open up in the side alley, and a curvy, almost emaciated feminine figure who's overall appearance could be described as monotone stumbled out, the remains of her last meal still smeared over her face. The woman tried to smooth her hair back, streaking gore through the silvery locks as she gave a slight scowl. Her dress was ruined: ripped in multiple places most unfavorable to herself, covered in blood and chunks of something, well, more like someone.
The woman's blank stare seemed directed to the door of the bar, where she nonchalantly walked inside and escaped to a bathroom, finding a way to clean herself up with as little fuss as possible. Blank, milky-white eyes that seemed to shift and flicker with streams of silver as they examined the reflection of their owner in the mirror of the small, cramped space. It could be worse. You could have no clothes, covered in gore, and still in the midst of a frenzy. The woman frowned and tried her best to fix her dress, making the useless ripped skirt into a shawl of sorts and showing off more leg than she really wanted to. At least the assets were covered, and at this point, that's all she, and her companion feeding on her psyche, really cared about.
Walking up to the bar and sitting down on a stool, crossing one leg over another, the grey woman stared blankly at the wall behind the bar, her finger making circles on the smooth wood surface of the bartop.

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The woman's abnormally long tongue slithered out of her mouth, making a greeting flicker at the wurm, then rolling back into her mouth. The woman held an extremely sleepy look in her eyes, as if she had just had a large meal (which, in truth, she did just have said meal). Blinking extremely slowly, the woman responded slowly, her body's accent giving her away as an English woman at one point in time. "Good evening." The woman nodded her head politely, her body almost making contact with the wurm. It held an unusual aura to it, but of course, it wasn't made of flesh, and therefore held no interest to the woman. Perhaps intellectual discourse would be the only thing she found here, as she took note that none of the humanoids within the room were what she was looking for in her quest to restore her former lover's body.
"Is it odd for one to be quiet when making their way into a new place? Why would I want a spotlight on me?" The woman's appearance seemed to warrant questions from anyone curious enough to ask, with the red streaks, now slowly staining brown, through her silvery-white hair, the poorly cleaned off gore still clinging to the fibers of her dress, and of course, the lovely red smears across her lower face, which were still somewhat there, despite being cleaned off as best as she could in a grubby bar bathroom.

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Close, but no cigar. The newcomer was too young, the hair too short, the eyes not right. The woman wouldn't eat her. She had a taint about her that seemed to make both halves of her psyche uneasy and unimpressed. "Well. I just had a meal, though, I'd rather not talk about that. It's impolite for a proper English woman like myself to discuss what they consume unless it's proper food." The new arrival still reeked, and the woman just wanted to eat her to at least get the scent out of the room...

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The woman's eyes seemed to dull at the sudden invasion of conversation. Suddenly, the young one started to yammer about the wurm to her right, insisting she mentioned phalluses. The teenage psyche was never something the woman enjoyed experiencing whenever she took the form of such a thing. As the wurm made a show of force, the woman simply picked a piece of flesh from her dress and popped it into her mouth, chewing upon it as if she were a viewer of a new action film at a local cinema. Had the wurm not been on the bartop, the woman would have propped her head up upon her hand, using the bar as an armrest for her elbow, but for now, turning in her seat to watch this scene unfurl from a subjective viewpoint (something the creatures of her ilk were too good at doing), the woman simply stared with a sense of apathy.

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The woman shrugged and began to lick the gore off her fingers, finding that her current company was somewhat safe to practice cannibalistic acts in front of, no matter how annoying the dæmon seemed to be. Granted, her arms looked quite delicious, and she could do without a finger or two. Maybe three. Blinking slowly, the grey woman started to clean herself in a slightly feline way, licking her fingers and the backs of her hands, wiping away gore, and then repeating the process. "I don't remember. I think it had something to do with my dietary supplements, but to be honest, if the girl doesn't turn off her Eu De Overwhelming Aura of Power, I might have to nibble one of her arms off."

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The woman blinked slowly yet again, her reaction nonexistent. A cat serving drinks at a bar. That wasn't anything too new to the woman, and blinking slowly yet again, her voice came out slowly. "I would like a dry martini. Shaken, not stirred." The woman turned to the wurm-now-humanoid and shrugged, her actions and response times sluggish. "I eat what or whom I please, granted, I'm not one to go in fang and claw into battle, nor demonstrate my power as casually as some of the people in the room. Modesty is a wonderful attribute for any sentient being to have, no?"

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The woman noticed her martini wasn't yet served, and that any source of 'entertainment' value had left the vicinity. Standing up and giving an irritated sigh, the woman made her exit from the bar and meandered around until she found something to feed off of.