Ashworth Academy -> Alyss//&your heart may just stop

Alyss//&your heart may just stop, Incomplete

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Alyss Graymen	Posted: Feb 4 2009, 09:11 PM
Newbie Group: Members Posts: 1 Member No.: 29 Joined: 4-February 09	HELLO LITTLE BOYS, LITTLE TOYS we're the dreams you're believin' Alias: Cheyenne Carlsson Age: 15 Gender: Female Time Zone: California babe! Likes: Ice cream and ballet Dislikes: Bad music How Long Have You Been Roleplaying: about 3 years on and off CRAWLING UP THE WALLS running down your face. Name: Alyss Graymen Age: Apears 17 but is really 141 Birthday: January 16th 1868 Gender: Female Orientation: Straight Species: Vampire Student or Teacher: Student RAZOR SHARP, RAZOR CLEAN feel the weapon's sensation. Appearance: Thin bones framed the jaw line of a harsh face. The bone moved up and down in a grinding motion as she thought of the past. It always hurt, to think. Although she wasn�t human that ping of pain still coursed through body. A small frame pressed against the wall taking in deep breaths as she steadied herself. The room felt as if it was spinning in rapid circles. This caused her stomach to lurch, leaving the unwanted feeling of emptiness. The gold in her eyes pressed to the edges as she lifted her head to window. A fierce growl came deep from her red lips as she pushed against the erg to feed. She hated this, the feeling of being so cold so dead. But, she knew she had to embrace it let it wind down to her hands and press deep through her obsessively cared for nails. That was the problem. She was too obsessed with perfection. She wanted to be the one girl that had control of everything and everyone and this is what she got. No control. Each brown lock kissed her once sun brushed face. She had changed a lot in the last few years. Her body had become lean and tall extending the height of 5�9 with round breasts and supple thighs. She had turned into something that she had always dreamed of. When she was changed something happened. A hormone ate away at the proper duchess and opened up a new present. This present could pull off high heels in the snow and ice. This gift could make a guy know what she was thinking without opening her lips as petals. This beauty had to show nothing of what was happening on the inside. She could mask it all with what was on the outside and that made her live on, in a very dead kind of way. Alyss was the brown haired, blue eyed, tanned women in the magazines. NOW HOLD ONTO ME PRETTY BABY, if you want to fly. Likes: To see people in pain, boys, hopeless people, books, the 1900�s, the old fashion taste of wine, and her appearance. Dislikes: The real her, humans, dumb people, Warm weather, having to feed, the life of a vampire. Strengths: Emotionally killing people, weaponry, seduction, innocence, the catching but not the killing Weaknesses: people knowing the �real� her, drinks as little as possible, human life, young children, people in love Habits: Tapping her foot, biting her lip, putting things in order Personality: [minimum of three paragraphs] I'M GONNA MELT THE FEVER SUGAR rolling back your eyes Parents: John and Marie Graymen Siblings: 7 year old sister, Samantha History: Cold blue eyes stared at broken wine glass. What had brought her to this, such utter disappointment and disgrace? This was nothing like her. Moments ago she was in her room with her fianc�. The love of her life that had given her everything she wanted and nothing she needed. He had done this to her. The wine dripped slowly onto the stone floor, no one rushed to clean it up. History is a cruel thing it eats away at your skin and bones then leaves you with nothing but your heart and your brain. Right now she had a choice, fallow her heart or her brain. That night was the one night that mattered. All of the nights up to it was just childes play. The tutoring in the library never helped her prepare for this. Her main Giselle had never warned her of any sort of situation in this position. As a child she never heard any stories that would have helped her get out of that choice. The choice was to leave, or to stay. A five year old girl held a rose from her father. He told her that one day her true love would give her a rose from the garden that she stood in at the moment. She only laughed and told him that she didn�t want a true love. She wanted a prince. A man to ride up on a white horse and take her to a river where they would live in a perfect little house and drink tea in the evenings. There�s that word again. Perfect. This word plays a big role, now listen. What little child didn�t wish for that prince? Alyss was no different then the average young women in the town. England was her home and she had respected it as much then as she does now. That five year old girl didn�t just grow but she bloomed. Like the flower her father had given her. On her 15th birthday a man walked into her life and changed it forever. Lord Chavis introduced himself as her fianc� that night. He told her that her father had chosen him as her husband. This was custom to have an arranged marriage, especially for a royal daughter. But, there was something different about him. He made her want to run and hide. To push back all the things her tutor had taught her and to scream and cry. That night he took her out into the garden and gave her a rose. All she could do was accept it. This man had cold hands that pressed against her body in dreadful ways. He kissed her hard and made her body shake in convulsions. He loved her. He really did. He enjoyed all things she did that were human. It made him mad sometimes to watch her do nothing with her life but sit and try on different shoes. That was what the 16 year old was taught to be a woman. The night before their wedding he took her into bed. He was gone from the bed when she returned from her glass of wine. The bitter sweet taste made her weak body shiver. He had left her with nothing but a brain and a heart. The world began to spin again as the small frame fell to the ground blood pushing against her neck and rolling down her chest. This was the night that he changed her forever and left her half dead. February 25th 1885 WE'RE GONNA RIDE THE RACE CARS we're gonna dance on fire. Roleplaying Example: This is a random Roleplaying sample that has nothing to do with vampires. [Just for clarification.] Have you ever tasted a triscuit? It's salty at first, making you want to spit out the dreadful cracker. But as you chew and move to the middle it begins to grow on you. Almost like a very ugly thing turned inside out to reveal something beautiful. That�s what she was like. She was something so torn, so broken on the outside the devastating part was that no one wanted to reach the inside. She stood on top of the toilet, her hands moving about with a paint brush on the ceiling, trying to create something. Each brush ended in a black splatter, what was she doing? She had no clue; the room was just talking to her, making her feel comforted. The only way I can put it, is that she is a triscuit! Something insanely invented to piss off the people who liked their saltine crackers just fine.' Her long arms extended to reach every little corner and when she was done all she could do was step down from the destroyed toilet and walk away. Her steps skipped along the white carpet, leaving black trails of matted colors. �Why must things always look good in my head, then turn out to be so vulgar when they are in front of my face?� She shook her head as a flow of blond locks stuck to her face. The paint wasn�t just on the carpet and the walls but it was all over her and she didn�t even seem to notice. Pulling a case of cigarettes from her jean jacket, she reached her hand to the melting door knob. Nothing seemed to be in place, it all danced around her and flew into the air like a flying goose spreading its wings out and covering her body in the flush feathers. Past the melting door knob came the slide, or stairs as a normal person would see it. But as you can see this girl I am speaking of is far from normal, in fact she�s a little loopy, like a Triscuit. As she made her way down the slide, the tattered walls seemed to get bigger and bigger until she landed with an unpleasant bump. The sound would usually make its way up to an old ladies room next to where she had landed but today that lady was out doing whatever it was that she did, the adolescent really didn�t care what that might have been. When she reached the door that lead into the real world she almost jumped with excitement. �ALYSS! ALYSS COME HERE!� Marie the landlord slowly crept down the stairs to reach the spot in front of Alyss. Her fat was pushed up against the rail as she used it to support her neglected body. Spit dripped from her slung mouth as she spoke in an accent. "Where the bloody hell is my money, you damn pot head?!" The women came to a halt beside Alyss�s small frame. There weren't many people Alyss disliked. In fact, there was only one and that person happened to be standing right under her. Not only that, but she was ruining her high. �Please Marie, can we talk about this in about five hours when my head is on straight? Because right now all I can think about is butterflies and melting doorknobs.� She turned around and walked through the door that led her into the jungle. The city was crowded like normal, people of all races, speaking different languages walked past Alyss as if she were a bug smoothed on the side of the street, she embraced the feeling, it was like being alone with everyone around you. A little girl walked past her clinging on to her mothers hand. It seemed as if she was flying by. The way her mother dragged her to wherever it was that they needed to be. Why are people always in a rush? A rush to start things or a rush to end things. This all seemed pointless to the face that enjoyed the different scenarios that would fit these people. The world was so diverse and for some odd reason she felt the same. Her shaking hands reached for the small white stem and within seconds she placed it into her plump lips and lit the tip. A deep inhale brought the world just a little bit more on straight. She could see herself from the outside. The way she slumped against the brick building with sunken blue eyes and flushed cheeks. She was hardly dressed up for the moment, her white shirt was covered in black paint and the tattered jeans hung on for dear life. The life of a Triscut is quite simple. You sit in a box for a while, you enjoy the other crackers but the moment you get out, it feels like a fresh of breath air and once that air is gone, you know that you are gone as well.

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