About me: The conditions are simple: Don't copy, jock, steal, redistribute, discredit, or merge. Do so, and I will black list you, h'ok? -Jamie ....................................................................................... ================================= HEADLINE ============================================ I'm not sick, I'm FREE. ================================= ABOUT ME ============================================ ================================= LIKE TO MEET ============================================
Doesn't the world smile on us? don't we make a beautiful couple, thee and me?
a little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now. and rain... will make the flowers grow
there's hope in the air and hope in the water but no hope for me, your last serving daughter
NAME Brona FULL NAME Brona Croft ALIAS(ES) Lily Yerma Frankenstein PLACE OF BIRTH Belfast, Co. Antrim, Ireland DATE OF BIRTH: October 31st, 1865 AGE: 27 - Immortal SPECIES: Reanimated human DIED: 1892 CAUSE OF DEATH: Suffocation CURRENT RESIDENCE: London, England SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: Ethan Chandler, Victor Frankenstein, Dorian Gray EDUCATION: None OCCUPATION: None PREVIOUS OCCUPATION(S): Factory worker, prostitute HEIGHT: 5'5 BUILD: Petite HAIR COLOUR: Fair EYE COLOUR: Brown with a yellow glow SKIN TONE: Porcelain white SCARS/MARKS: A big Y shaped, badly stitched scar reaching from collarbone to collarbone and down the middle of her chest to her bellybutton ALCOHOL: Yes NICOTINE: No NARCOTICS: No PERSONALITY: Lily is a with hatred and sadness filled, strong-minded woman. In this new life she's been given she's found her strength and no longer fears what she used to fear. Death can no longer touch her. She can be manipulative and cruel to all those she thinks deserve it. Her hatred is mostly focused on men, given the horrible circumstances of her previous encounters with many of them. however, she can be very kind, very protective. But her opening up to someone might take a long time. she's not quick to trust anyone. PSYCHOLOGICAL DISORDER(S): Lily most likely has what you could call Multiple Personality Disorder MOTHER: Unknown FATHER/CREATOR: Victor Frankenstein BROTHER(S): Caliban, Proteus † SISTER(S): Unknown CHILDREN Sarah Croft †
BRONA - it means 'sadness' in Gaelic
LILY - The flower of ressurection and rebirth
TEXT TEXT TEXT
MURDERER - Savage beast, Offering, Whore
TEXT TEXT TEXT
Our little god has brought forth not angels, but DEMONS
TEXT TEXT TEXT
TEXT TEXT TEXT
There is this thread that runs from his body to mine, and you can't break what you don't see; an invisible line
His jaw ached with the release of her brief touch. "Tell me how you're different. Tell me all the ways this world made you who you are." Jay enjoyed seeing deeper, and he sensed that she had a wild madness within.
A hollow laugh resonated in his chest. His voice hinted at a growl within its deeper timbre. "Miss, I was born in the gutter. Of-f***in-course I'll be buried in one. Just ain't gonna be yours." Jay's stare was steely but his lips curled with a hint of amusement.
He listened to her speak, seemingly giving him an entire life story. He was no stranger to letting someone else do the talking, expertly picking bits of information from her dialogue to use later. Mostly for questioning, or for anything else that may come onto the table later. He took a seat on a chair across from her, showing he had no intention of doing anything lewd. "My wife died several years ago from that very illness. In fact, I happen to know quite a bit about it. Treatment is possible, but...only if you can afford it. And even then, it's tedious. We could afford it, but she chose to die, taking our unborn child with her."
The thought alone washed a sense of sadness over him. After an accident, he could remember very little about his wife, but the way she died always haunted him. He couldn't remember her name, what she did for a living, where she was from -- but he sure as hell remembered what she looked like and how she died. He didn't speak of the accident or how he'd come to forget that information; she didn't trust him enough yet. Instead, he let his eyes linger on his wedding band. "Despite what I may have thought of you, I would have never solicited you for that reason. She was and is the love of my life, I would never betray her -- not even in the darkness of the afterlife."
Chester brushed a hand over his hair for a moment, adjusting his spectacles before speaking again. "You're right, I do misunderstand your profession, but I'm also no stranger to it. The women who work the streets up in Scotland are no stranger to selling out anyone or anything that seems out of the ordinary." There was a very brief moment before he said anything else, knowing that it could mean any number of things. "But if you can help me at least gather information, you'll have the full support and protection of mine."
That was when he decided to prove his point, reaching over for a letter opener on the table beside him. It may have appeared he would harm her, but instead, he took the blade and dragged it across his throat. He sputtered for a moment or two before the flesh started to push back together, healing itself almost instantly. She didn't have to trust him, but at least this way he could prove that he was honest in his speech. "I have no intention of harming you. All I intend to do is put the killers behind bars. And you, my dear, are hardly a killer." Then he set the dagger back onto the table and closed his eyes. "You don't have to trust me. But you must at least believe me when I say that I won't let any harm befall you, if I can avoid it."