LUAIN, zophiel feidlimid

[AURELIA ZOE BOND]

ZOPHIEL FIEDLIMID LUAIN !?
'i’ll soon forget the color of your eyes and you’ll forget mine'

FULL NAME Zophiel Feidlimid Luain
NICKNAMES Zoe, Zoey, Fia, Fi.
AGE Appears roughly 17, is actually around 1168 .
GENDER Female.
BIRTHDAY Unknown, guestimated around spring 827 AD
SPECIES Guardian angel.
ALLIANCE Light.
SEXUALITY Bi-Sexual.

PLAY-BY Freya Mavor.
EYES almond shaped, dark blue.
HAIR naturally curly, golden blonde.
BODY TYPE slender, petite.
HEIGHT 5'4.
WEIGHT 120 lbs.
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES lots of freckles, wings (she is a freaking angel after all).
STYLE her style is usually varying, depending on her mood, she has a thing for playing 'dress up' so you never really know what her style might be next. However in general she usually goes for something conveient and comfortable, why? Because it's not only practical to do so, but you can't always dress wildly, right? What would be the fun in that? Her make up is jsut about the same as her style, though on a regular basis something minimal or simple is what she's usually found in. The one thing that never seems to change though is a neckles she where, it's a flower pendent and it formerly belonged to her mother.

LIKES

• art.
  
• ice cream.
  
• reading.
  
• music.
  
• dancing.
  
• laughing.
  
• listening.
  
• cats.
  
• clothes.
  
• playing games.
  

DISLIKES

• not being able to feel.
  
• thinking about the past.
  
• silence.
  
• boredom.
  
• jelly/jam.
  
• the smell of sharpies.
  
• flourescent lighting.
  
• computers.
  
• fire.
  
• obnoxiousness.
  

STRENGTHS

• determined.
  
• quick thinking.
  
• good listener.
  
• intuitive.
  

WEAKNESSES

• chocolate.
  
• memories.
  
• fire.
  
• tears (she hates seeing people cry).
  

HABITS

• tends to talk fast and ramble.
  
• bites her lower lip when thinking or 'zoning out'.
  
• looks you in the eye while talking to you.
  

FEARS

• fire.
  
• losing a charge unnaturally.
  
• driving a car.
  

DESIRES

• to find some semblance of true happiness.
  

SECRETS

• is envious of humans.
  
• wishes she had simply died instead of becoming an angel.
  

OVERALL
Stubborn and sarcastic are two words that describe Zoe to a 'T'. It's nearly impossible to change her mind once it's made and god help anyone who tries to stop her, arguing often will get you know where, she could put a mule to shame. Some consider her entirely pig headed and honestly she'd either completely agree or totally deny it, depending on the situation. Sarcasm is her way of both lightening the mood and her defense mechanicism, though sometimes it's hard to tell whether she's joking, insulting, or completely serious. That also may have something to do with her occasionally brutal honesty, the girl does not know the meaning of 'tactful' and as a result she just tells you how it is, fair and square. It probably has something to do with that spunk she has, feisty, a fighter through and through really, always having been an exceedingly curious, slightly wild, girl a real free spirit when it comes down to it.

Of course there's more to her than what meets the eyes, she truly does have a good heart, always hopeful if not a little cynical at times. Despite her unwillingness to admit it Zoe truly does believe that theirs good in everyone and usually she can see it. Perhaps that's left over naivety from a youth she was cut off from, but regardless it's her true belief. On top of that she has a strong sense of right and wrong, a tendency to be fair. Though at times she can be rather hot tempered, for the most part Zoe is quite pleasant, observant and though a little rough around the edges, once she warms up to you the girl is actually fairly sweet.

MOTHER Isolde Mary Luain (deceased).
FATHER Bradan Caomh Luain (deceased).
SIBLINGS Caiside Faelan Luain, Brennus Drest Luain (deceased), Aedh Corraidhin Luain (deceased), Aedan Cynbel Luain (deceased), Eogan Haerviu Luain (deceased).
OTHER PERSONS OF IMPORTANCE charge: Callum Levine.
ETHNICITY Irish.
WEALTH STATUS middle range.
OVERALL
LIFE
Zoe came from a decent sized family, at least back in a time when large families were somewhat of a priority. The youngest and only girl out of five she was doted upon and over protected beyond belief. She came from a small village, one that might not be known today as it was wiped out during the Viking invasion. Her parents had come with several others and settled just out side a trading village. It was quaint, tight knit, and still growing by the time Zophiel was born. Her father was a farmer, growing barely which he sold to the miller or at market, all four of her brothers worked the fields with him. Often she’d beg to go with them, being a willful, curious child she dreaded a days work in the kitchen or the hope. Today she would’ve been considered something of a tomboy, tagging along where ever her brothers went, wanting nothing more than to be one of them. She was forever getting reprimanded, but for the most part a lot was let to slide. In all honesty Zoe doesn’t recall much of her life as a human, just faded memories here and there, mostly of her later years, time having faded the small details she once treasure, like her mother’s face or her father’s rough hands.

DEATH
They came in the night. The smell of smoke woke her from her peaceful slumber, the harsh scent burning her nostrils, twisting in her lungs with the hopes of turning them black. Lids sprang open, fear claiming her indigo eyes only seconds later. Fire. There was a fire, something was burning, but the smell was tainted by something else. That’s when the noise had hit her, reaching her ears and sending her head into a frenzy. Screaming, there was so much screaming, and shouting, endless shouting. A violent cough escaped the girl, head tilting down, strands of long golden curls falling to obstruct her face. Zoe could not make sense of this, nothing about this made any sense at all. Panic set in quickly and as a result the newly turned seventeen year old leapt from her bed, fumbling as she moved, stumbling, scrambling to escape the smoke filled home. There was no time to see if her family was still in the small dwelling they called home, no time to grab anything she may have held dear, no time to say goodbye or give a shout of warning.

The chaos outside shocked her system, mortified her, horror and tears filled her eyes, shock coloring her freckled face. Everywhere she looked hulking men were battling, the clang of metal on metal piercing the air in droves, and fire. So much fire, whole homes becoming engulfed in the bright tendrils of the stuff, screams and shouts and pleading. Everything told her to run, run and never look back, go as far and as fast as she was able. The girl’s feet wouldn’t listen though, they wouldn’t move, she was paralyzed, stunned into immobilization. Knees felt weak, head light, everything she held dear, everything she loved was being ripped apart. Then, all at once she found she could move, and suddenly she was fleeing, making for the far off woods, running as fast and as far as she could. That’s when she felt it, like the ache of a thousand broken bones, and down she went, darkness taking over, drawing her blank as the girl crashed to the ground, limp and unconscious.

That wasn’t it though, she wasn’t dead, though Zophiel often wished she had been. They were merciless, cruel, undaunted by her struggles and fighting and sounds, her pleading falling on deaf ears. By the end of it all Zoe was a hallow shell, she had already left, her mind fleeing unable to cope. Indigo eyes were vacant by the time a knife finally bit into the skin of her neck. There was no feeling of sweet release, no relief from the pain she had been caused, she wasn’t there, Zoe had fled her body before that, she was numb, catatonic. They set her ablaze before she was truly gone and she felt that, the intense burn of the flames, and then nothing. A young life had been snuffed out by greed and war.

LIFE AFTER DEATH
There were no pearly gates, no rush of light, those were falsities. There was, however, and intense feeling of peace, like you had been only a fragment and now, now you were whole, complete, full, serene. Suddenly it didn’t matter what had happened, the hurt, the fear, it was erased, like a waterfall had carried it all away. Eyes looked to her arms, they were free from burns and cuts and bruises, restored to how she was before, to how she was meant to be. It would have been startling if she hadn’t known, if that knowledge hadn’t somehow been programmed into her mind in that space between death and new life. Heaven was more than anyone could explain, there were no words, no explanation, nothing could justify it. Zoe had been chosen for her youth, her innocence, for that fight she held within her. There was purity in that heart of hers when it beat like that of a human. So she had been given a second chance, brought into the light and soothed. For that there was a price though. Zoe would have to watch over those she had once been like, human, guard them from the atrocities of life, save them from such misfortunes as she herself had suffered.

Watching people live, smile, love, when you could not, when you had not been given that chance was in it’s own right like a living hell. You could watch, you could protect, but you could never have what they had, you could never have that chance, you could never get back what you had lost, or in Zophie’s case, you could never get back what had been taken from you. To say her job was easy in any sense was wrong, envy colored her from the start, but she never slacked. In a way, though it hurt to see what you might’ve been able to have, it still gave her joy to see other’s live. She watched them grow from infancy, worrying and fretting like a first time mother, wishing for the life of her she could cushion the world, the little beings so fragile and small. For Zoe that was always the hardest, the babies, she fretted for years, and then, as they crept into childhood she’d reminisce of herself. Bumps and bruises a plenty, you learned from you mistakes, when you fell you got back up. Then as adulthood started to come for them she’d watch heavy hearted as they’d make mistakes, fall in love, get their hearts broken, take foolish risks.

That always seemed to be when they needed her the most, in the space between childhood and true maturity. Eye rolling and sarcasm was heavy in those years and then, all too fast, the years would catch up with them, old age would claim them. Sorrow always hit her hard when the first grey hair sprouted on a charge’s head, it meant their time was now starting to end. Zoey always went to them in those final moments, showing herself, as she preferred to remain invisible to her charges, watching from a far was just easier. They always seemed to know, in those final moments, that she was not there to hurt them. Zoe would take their hand in hers and tell them the same exact things every time “go in peace weary traveler” as they took their final breathes. No matter how hard she tried there was no stopping the tears she cried at the loss of something she had guarded, something she had learned to love in a certain way. Like family.

Then Callum Levine fell into her lap. A deaf little boy who just seemed to attract danger to himself, at least that’s what Zophiel came to believe whole heartedly. Then, the one time she turns away, what does he do? He gets himself bitten and turned by a werewolf, bringing the fury of heaven down on her as a result. Suddenly she went from being treated as a respected, loyal guardian, to silly little dumb blonde teen, the higher ups were beyond out raged, and a critical eye was turned to her. Reluctantly she’s been working to step up her game and now, with a nudge from the powers that be, it seems she may have no choice but to make herself known to him in hopes of keeping him safe. Needless to say she’s not exactly pleased with all this, even though something inside her is a little thrilled at the possibility of actually knowing him.

NAME/ALIAS ria
AGE 20
TIME ZONE est
HOW YOU FOUND US wanted ad on caution
OTHER CHARACTERS none yet
RP SAMPLE

Though they were grown that didn’t mean they were free, Johanna knew that, had been brain washed to believe that. The security in the Caravelle home was merely a parlor trick in comparison to what her family was capable of. Honestly it wasn’t so much about keeping Juilet and Romeo apart, it never had been, instead for her parents it had always been about protecting what children they had left. Johanna could be a hundred and three and her parents would still have found a way to keep her from Roman. The only thing that would fix this would be to erase the blood that had been spilt, but the dead can’t come back. That above all had to be Johanna’s sorest spots, her resentment toward her dead brother. As much as she tried to resist, as much as she didn’t want to, Hanna couldn’t help but resent him for getting himself killed and ruining her life. It was her greatest shame, she felt selfish for it and somehow the remorse she felt for those feelings had been what broke her in the end.

If Roman asked her to run away with him Johanna would say no. To her it was no use, running away would do no good, it wouldn’t change anything. Five years ago it had been the perfect plan, five years ago when they had nothing, but now that they could have everything it seemed destined to end badly. It was funny, in an oddly horrible way, or it would be if it wasn’t such a sad truth. Rome and Hanna had spent their entire lives together just trying to hold on a little longer, grasping at straws just trying to keep each other whole. Eventually that thread needed to be cut, didn’t it? They couldn’t hold on indefinitely, could they? These were all things Hanna considered far often than she ever wanted to, and the decision she had come to was one of much grief. It was time to snap that thread.

Of course that was easier said than done, with her mind hazed by sleep and her instincts revolving around the boy she wanted to be entwined in it was hard to think straight. As his hand trailed up her dress to her neck a shiver sprinted down her spine. Hanna’s mouth fell open, a sharp breath filling her lungs as his fingers traced her collarbone, her weakest point, then continued to trace her jaw line. She hadn’t realized her eyes had closed until they popped open, staring back at him as he watched her, those blues of his feeling as if they were looking straight through her. There was no doubt in her mind that he could, he always had been able to, always knowing or perhaps anticipating her next move. Roman had always kept up with her, had never doubted her, and for that he had always meant the world to her. However her world had changed, shifted, five years had worked hard to reshape the fabric that made her. She saw his eyes fall to her lips and Johanna knew what was coming. Hesitation welled in her but Hanna made no move to stop any of this. All that seemed to matter, all that made sense was the warmth of his body and the way he smelt of cigarettes and hope.

She wanted him, the moment his lips had found hers downstairs every ounce of her wanted him, and that want, that need was only intensified as he kissed her again. Except this was different, it was slow, deep, reminding her they were alone now. Entirely alone, no one would come to find her, as far as they were concerned so long as she was in the Caravelle home there was no need to worry. Undoubtedly what no one had counted on was Roman sneaking in, again. That alone was her deciding factor, it’s what woke her up in a different way, now she had no control over this. Hanna gave into him, gave into that knot in the pit of her stomach. Her hands flew to his face cupping it gently between them as she kissed back matching him, slow and deep, they had the time to soak this in, to hold on to this as long as they could. It wouldn’t last, it couldn’t, but that thought had fled her mind the moment this had started. Of course this was her fault, she should’ve kept her distance, shouldn’t have led him on even if it hadn’t been intentional. Johanna should’ve kept that door locked, she knew that now, but Roman was a hard one to shut out.

He moved, half on top of her, still kissing her in that way that was slowly driving her blissfully insane, and if Juliet possessed any shred of self control or preservation, it was lost in that moment. Hanna’s body reacted, back arching a little to press against him as much as possible, she was giving in to him, if he led she’d follow. And that spark was back, her mouth shifting on his, her teeth finding his lower lip, tugging at it gently like she always used to, letting go quickly. Then her lips found his again, kissing him hungrily, memories of that night on the roof top flitting through her mind momentarily. This time, if neither of them managed to find the courage to stop themselves, there would be no one to rip them apart. Her hands moved, sliding over his neck her arms wrapping around him there now, holding him to her.

[JURATE]