has been damned...
Though she may seem shy, those who truly know Delia would say that she is a girl to be reckoned with. Very lively and optimistic, many would wonder where little Lia gets her energy to maintain her honor-worthy grades and still keep up with her training as an initiated Witch. She is the kind of person you would turn to when you are in need, for she will listen well and offer you the advice you really need no matter how harsh it may be. Unlike most people, she is unafraid to speak her mind though never in a callous manner. Ever polite and tactful, she is not a magnet for intrigue or scandals although she has had her fair share of these given the close-minded and shallow folk of Norridgewood.
She keeps to herself, especially when she knows that she is unappreciated. But given the right company, she becomes the life of the party and her magnanimous appeal attracts even the most discriminating of both men and women. Warm and welcoming, she has the ability to make people feel secure around her. This is why a lot of people find it easy to confide in her, making her a repository of all sorts of knowledge. She is loyal to a fault, upholding the needs of those she loves above her own - especially Dahlia's who has raised her ever since their parents' untimely demise. However, when she is betrayed, expect nothing but misfortune for she is not one to forgive so easily and even when she does, she never forgets.
Ever the romantic, she will put up a front of being overly pragmatic when it comes to matters of the heart. But one should not be fooled for when she loves, she loves with her whole heart. To scorn her would be the most dire mistake one could make for she is ruthless once crossed.
To Delia, there is only knowledge - no good or bad magic as some would deem it. She is a well-behaved and diligent student who is endowed with an exceptional memory and prepared to swallow all of the knowledge she can get her hands on indiscriminately. This makes her formidable enemy and a valuable ally that eventhough her powers have not been completely developed, her allegiance to one group would prove to be an advantage. However, one thing should be made clear: She is her own person, answerable to no one but herself.Race:
Student && SisterAffiliation:
Rogue; Delia might enjoy learning from the members of the Council but her loyalties are with herself and her sister.
How does this damned one appear?
OPEN YOUR EYES
Avatar: Emily Browning
Hair: Delia's hair can be best described as a mix of dark copper and gold locks that stop a little past halfway her back. She always looks for variety and this can be seen through her hair, fashioning it to have soft, romantic curls one day then have it silky straight the next. The only thing certain about her hair is that she likes it long and silky to the touch. A closer whiff would reveal a scent of soy and almond milk emanating from her crowning glory.
Eyes: Hers are curious woodland green eyes with flecks of gold here and there. They are hidden underneath unbelievably long lashes that put more emphasis to her large, expressive eyes.
Other marks: She has a small heart-shaped birthmark at the top of her right breast but other than that, there's nothing else worth noting.
General Appearance: Having been ostracized all her life by the townfolk, Delia carries herself with a slight hesitation. Her height proves to be an advantage as she is grateful that she does not need to be under the constant scrutinizing gaze of her peers; slipping through the halls like a ghost. Although she may exude confidence at home, the opposite applies to her in school. She dresses up appropriately but refuses to wear vibrant colors or anything that could draw attention to her. However, when let loose in the city, she is known to be an impeccable dresser. She is not one to follow trends but sticks to tried and tested looks that compliment her figure. Just like her sister, she is as beautiful as they come. However, very few has gazed into her face fully as she is constantly looking at the floor. The people who have taken notice of her enticing features were immediately discouraged by her heritage and the possibility of being outcasted by their peers for associating with the likes of her. She is a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl with a laidback approach to fashion, a girl-next-door sort of girl whose bewitching gaze and endearing smile can win the hearts of many.
Equiptment and Skills: Born into the legacy of her parents, Delia has been learning the craft from Dahlia and she is progressing nicely. A lot of people from the council has tried to sway her into their cause but she is not so easily manipulated by flattery alone. Unlike Dahlia, she has no interest in the ranch and has no plans of staying in this forsaken place once she has graduated high school and finished her training under Dahlia. Endowed with an eidetic memory, she is quick to recall a great deal of things making her adept in potion-making and rituals. Hers is an unexplored power that has yet to blossom to showcase its full potential.
How tortured is your soul?
PLEASE, DO TELL
Athough it may not exactly be a fairy tale, Delia's life is not that of turmoil or regret. She was born to a happy home with a mother, a father and a sister who love her. She could not recall any memory of her parents, both of them having died in a tragic manner when she was still far too young. All she does remember is Dahlia's face watching over her. Unlike her sister, she prefers to believe that their parents' death is an unfortunate accident and not caused by any one group or person. This might be because she is unaware of the details of their fate but nonetheless, she does not hold anyone accountable until the truth is made known by the murderers themselves.
She does not have friends at school, the superstitious townfolk of Norridgewood warning their children of their heritage. She grew up to be independent of others, turning only to Dahlia for the direst of needs. She does not want to burden her sister further and she cannot expect anything from anyone in the institution she attends. Without pressure from her peers to 'hang out' or whatever it is they do, she turned to academics and her training as an escape. Her power is the envy of many but its extent has yet to be discovered. She has shown proficiency with potions and rituals but only because her interest in this field is most evident. Delia is doing her best to master Dahlia's teachings and she works really hard to learn as much as she can.
Being only a teenager, one could see a level of uncertainty within the young lass. She has no formal allegiance to anyone but herself and her sister. She lives for the moment, doing what she pleases when she pleases but without the reckless abandonment that one would expect from someone of such a tender age. Everyone has been warned of them and though Dahlia's benevolence may appease some, her resolve is not to help anyone who has a record of ill-intent towards them in the past. Delia believes that this lifestyle is not for her and is constantly in search for people who will accept her for who she is, the other half of the Crane Sisters.
|Lorellai observed the crowd with a nonchalant gaze as the celebration fell into its usual stupor. The guests, all of them decadently fashioned into visions of affluence and grace, started to dance in this little masquerade. How ludicrous they seemed to her in this charade of hypocrisy. This was the life she chose to partake in yet she ridiculed such way of life with a passion. A life like this is not a life at all for it is a mere illusion built upon a web of lies and lust. Still Lorellai chooses stubbornly to embrace the life she leads - this lie for it is the only reminder she has of what has been and what could have been. The past was all she had left; her memories were the only things she knew to be real.|
She scanned the crowd once more - their faces mere blurs, seeking a face she knew she would never see again. The Blake residence caused emotions that Lorellai did not want to acknowledge to resurface. Almost four years has passed yet she could not forget those dark grey eyes as his hand trailed upon her skin. What spell was it that he cast upon her that she sees the same eyes when she closes her own. It was a curse, a burden yet one that she willingly bore for no consequence could be as sweet.
Her eyes fluttered open only to find those dark grey eyes staring back at her – the eyes that she loved, the eyes that she betrayed, the same ones that have come back to haunt her. A small gasp escaped her lips as her eyes flashed with anger, fear, lust and an assortment of emotions that even she could not name. His scent, it was as if his scent filled the room and pervaded her nostrils, dizzying her with an uncontrollable desire to touch him, to kiss him, to make love to him and yank his heart out with her bare hands. Her mind has betrayed her just as her heart has four years ago. It could not be, it simply could not be yet there he was, standing before her in mockery.
It left her breathless, gasping for air as dismal thoughts took over her already frail frame. Her already pallid skin was drained of color if such was even possible and it became ice cold, as though winter was personified in her being. Her grasp weakened and the flute she held broke into a million shards of glass. Everyone seemed too involved in their own little world to actually notice but he did and his perspective was the only one that mattered to her at the moment.
Taken from another site I am on.
Prick your finger...
AND SIGN OVER YOUR SOUL
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YOU HAVE NOW BEEN DAMNED
TIME TO START DANCING