[Gretchen Weiss]

GRETCHEN HANNAH WEISS
&&
MECREDI ALICE St.SOLEIL
&&
FEAST
Beyond this sleek veneer
Beneath the neon existence
Her face is grey
And everything she longs for turns to black
The chemicals bring little vindication
And white lines lace every vein
Does she realise what she's become?



S I R E N . HORDE

---

My name is not important, and always interchangeable but you can call me things like DJ Kadet, Merci, Di, Gretch, Greta or Mek if you feel like it's really necessary.
Originally I was born in Sherbourg, France and then again in Ukraine and once more in Germany but these days I live up town in a penthouse but I have a couple of properties all over. Usually, if you're looking for me, you might find me at Urchin Records' Studio set up or on the club scene where I'm a resident recording artist.

I might look like I'm close to my mid-twenties but I'm actually not going to tell you my age. ; you should never ask that of a lady. Roughly, I'm 5'4 tall, last I checked, and I'd be the first to admit I'm a little on the kinky side, but don't hold that against me. Loads of people have told me how much I resemble Viktoria Moskalova but personally, I don't see it.

F I R S T . I M P R E S S I O N S

What someone walks away with on first meeting Greta can vary wildly... and that's if you're only meeting Greta.

Gretchen we could easily say is the 'primary' personality. She thrives on the day to day and hogs attention by dint of being completely erratic. She is unpredictable in all ways from her sense of fashion to her sense of humor. Dependent on her mood she can be scathingly witty or playfully coy and likes to flip and change those facets on you mid conversation. Greta, regardless, gives the impression that she enjoys flipping switches and doesn't mind for a second what kind of reaction they provoke. The personality she exudes on first encounter is one of a live wire with not much going on behind that dazzling smile except trouble. Comments are brushed off, you get picked up and dropped without any real consideration and she is entirely unapologetic.

However, if your first meeting falls on lucky happenstance and it's Mercy you get to meet, there's no more perfect and delicate an angel. Quiet, polite, reserved, she is an image of vintage femininity in all her demureness. You can hold a conversation with Mercy and she's responsive on a wavelength with you that you could never achieve with Gretchen. The thing that is lacking, which you will realize after a few minutes of conversation, is any kind of openness. Her answers to personal questions will lead you around in loops but done so with such a lack of abrasiveness that you would never pick up on it unless you were specifically searching for it.

Both personalities hint at an elusive and altogether much greater understanding than anything you might have -- Greta, though, being the only one of the two that lauds it -- and in general have an expansive vocabulary that they use well to their different ends. The only other shared quality they have, a thread of something familiar to them both, is a hunger for something that's never really revealed. With Gretchen it bares a sexual and violent quality, with Mecredi it's more sensual than perverted. When detected, no matter what has gone before, it has an unsettling aftertaste that's likely to leave you puzzling.

The third spoke on this bizarre wheel needs the least explanation. Feast, as it has been identified inside the woman's head, gives only one impression and that would be that this creature is a demon and that you will not live to have that first impression changed. It is always hungry when it comes to the fore and will only be seen when there is no uncertainty that it's intended quarry will be meeting it's end.

F A S H I O N . P A S S I O N

GRETCHEN
Her sole purpose was to act as a shield, a coping mechanism to help Mercy adjust to the new world. So, as if to compensate for the teething issues that Mecredi faced, she embraces all things synthetic and as far from natural fiber as you can find. Latex, rubber, pvc, waterproofed garments, polyester, nylon; the more vivid and elaborate in design the better. Nothing will fly off the rack quicker than a form confining dress or corset that glistens like poured wax around her shapely curves, not when Gretchen's steering.

The designs she goes for, like the creature inhabiting them, are salacious, showing a particular contempt for practicality in ridiculous platformed and heeled mary janes or peep toes, teaming traditional looking pencil skirts with suspenders and nothing but a criss-cross of nipple tape when she's on the club circuit.

When coerced into looking remotely daylight worthy, you'd never catch Gretchen in an ensemble that doesn't have a plunging neck or above the knee hem-line. There's always some flash of flesh that could well verge on being distasteful at times. {She's been known to tear a note from Monroe's book too, creating discreet holes in her stockings that reveal a ladder or two of her china white skin.

It's worth a mention that on the days when Merci started it and dressed herself, if there's an occasion that means Gretchen jumps in to take over, it's likely that you'll see a woman dressed in a skirt that has a jagged hem, rising up above her knees and jagged necklines.

MECREDI
She knows fully well that she doesn't need to put everything on show in order that she might draw an eye to her. Like Gretch, her style is not quite in keeping with the current fashion flow; Gret' is more from the 1980's, possibly earlier from the industrial punk movement at times, Merci's own fashion is many centuries before that. So on the odd occasion where she doesn't need her sister-ego to take control of the situation -- meaning she gets to dress herself to face the day ahead -- she's likely to be found in outfits that are still form confining but lack the fishnet and tube lined openings.

Merci has never been able to get on board with the whole idea of women wearing pantaloons. They should not be considered as practical attire because no work or activity that a woman under takes should require them to wear them. For day to day attire she'll wear more recent fashions, no more so than 1920's, however, full length skirts and dresses, normally with a bustle attached. Her sleeves cover the full length of her arms and if not then she'll wear a jacket or shrug to do the job for her. By choosing fitted garments she manages to avoid looking like she's swimming in fabric though, the curve of her bust always enhanced by a bustier or under-bust corset -- worn appropriately beneath her tops.

When she's dressing for a particular occasion, she has a great sense of propriety there too. Long and flowing sleeves and dresses, antiques a lot of them -- and by designers many years dead -- but she wouldn't look terribly out of place at a renaissance faire; forever elegant but sometimes she needs talking away from lace and ribbon and from piling a ridiculous wig atop her head too.

FEAST
Approximately the same size as it's host, the only thing fashionable about it is the series of blood colored quills lining it's spine and protruding from it's other extremities. Being an aquatic manifestation, it also has interestingly pigmented, pink, black and red scales along with a set of fins sprouting from it's cheeks.

D I M P L E S . A N D . T H I N G S

Any minor scratches and marks she might have endured from her years living wild along the shores as Feast have long been healed as should be expected of all born Sirens. The one very clear mark she does wear is a pair of narrow white crosses, long healed arrow puncture marks, just beneath her collar bone. These we will cover in her history as there is a story to tell either side.

W H Y . D I D . Y O U . D O . I T

Gretchen is forever getting parts of herself pierced and re-pierced, Merci then removing them immediately once she returns to the flesh and discovers them. Some of these findings have been particularly alarming and have once or twice been enough to have her leave the bathroom as Gretchen -- much to everyone at the benefit's dismay.

M A N . W I T H O U T . S K I N

GRETCHEN
It's only right that we talk about this little tart first as 80% of the time she is now the voice of the Harpist otherwise known as Mecredi. Like her attire, this girl is vulgar and salacious, dropping in low brow comments and making no secret of the fact when she finds someone to be attractive. As you can gather she is promiscuous and behaves as though this is a valuable trait to have, making it well known fact.

Gretchen has not got one close friend and that is due not only to the aforementioned hedonism, but because she seems at times to be quite confrontational. She'll cut into a dance without invite and cuss at a random interjection when a peer is speaking. Gretchen was born in the middle of a very aggressive era and it shows; she has problems taking direction or having to abide to rules and frequently she'll react in a physical way. She is unrestrained and is in every way the opposite of her other main Alter. Greta will get angry before she gets sad, she's a liar and a mitigater of dangerous situations.

It's hard to consider Gretchen as having a real personality, when it boils down to it. Her spectrum of emotions is very limited, she doesn't get involved in relationships unless there's a benefit of entertainment to be gained from it and she does not even have a core of beliefs either. She is vain, extroverted and sometimes even a little bit of a bully, but all these things are exhibited in immediate actions and very rarely is there much going on beneath the surface. She doesn't think. She just does. More like a series of improper actions and a dictionary of foul language than she is any person you've met before.

So we'll just say, then, Gretchen is a mask. A character that Mecredi can hide behind to face the modern world fearlessly.


MECREDI
The longer established of the three over all personas, Mecredi is far more well rounded she's just become distorted by the scenarios she has not known how to hand. She was born during the early 1500s whilst Louis XII was still reigning over France and was raised to be extremely old school. {This overbearing repression also had a conducive input to the point at which her mind fractured.} Mecredi holds steadfastly to her morals and this can make her seem quite stern and a little icy, reluctant to change her views but, awkwardly, too much of a lady to argue -- meaning she'll dismiss you if you try and tackle it with her.

Unlike many women of her time, and Gretchen come to think of it, Merci was never under the illusion that to be demure and polite and a second class citizen to man, actually uniformly meant that she also was stupid or had nothing of import to say. Mecredi is fully aware of how intelligent she is but time has never been enough to push her toward speaking out of turn or too boldly. Naturally she has found other outlets when she needs to get something done, resorting to veiled words or else doing the Lady Macbeth routine and working through others. She only ever has to be manipulative to a degree, however, generally speaking she's such a sweet and coy little thing that others are happy to assist if she asks for a favor.

If you're the type to judge someone as being evil incarnate simply because of her nutritional habits then of course you're going to be instantly opposed to Mecredi. If you're willing to go beyond that, however, you will find she's quite a generously spirited individual. A friend knows no bounds to her willingness to give time and energy, she has an open door for those that need to talk -- and are female or else escorted by a female -- and likes to think ahead to meet the needs or desires of others. It's not out of a need to be liked either, she's witty and well educated enough on her own that she knows she doesn't need to ingratiate herself, she's just a good friend. There's a touch of snobbery in there, but it doesn't come from a place of maliciousness, she was spoiled for a great many years and treated as the apple of the Court's eye until she had to leave so of course her self-image is a tiny bit inflated.

Not that Merci' is a nervous nelly, or anything close, but her personality does seem to be that much more stable when she has a male presence around her. Raised around knights and acts of chivalry, she finds she is not so reliant on Gretchen to see her through the more startling arenas of modern life if she has the crook of an arm to hang upon. A man is always a far more suitable shield than a psycho like Greta, that much doesn't need explaining.

F A V O U R I T E

GRETCHEN - Dancing in a mass of bodies.
MECREDI - Talking music over afternoon tea.
FEAST - Eating.

D E S P I S E

GRETCHEN - Attending meetings.
MECREDI - Shopping Malls.
FEAST - Interruptions.

L I K E S

GRETCHEN
Unnatural fibres.
Body modifications/Unusual fetishes, Late night radio shows, Walking bare foot in the rain, Smell of warm wax, UV Lighting, Composing songs whilst .. being physically active, Men and women who surprise her, Grossing out Horde members, Strong spirits.

MECREDI Millinery shops, Carriage rides/Visiting historical castles, Tudor houses, Wooden buttons and toggles, Acoustic music, Taxidermy/Animal furs, Warm milk and honey, Large decorative aquariums, Operas and classics, Being comfortable in her environment.

FEAST Dark, dank, cold spaces/Seaside caves, Welsh countryside and mountains, The smell of algae and blood, Licking it's paws.. cla-- flippers? Chasing fish/people, Making men scream, Dissecting its prey, Sound of it's own song, Moonlight on the water, The sensation of being full.

D I S L I K E S

GRETCHEN
Flower arrangements, Long journeys, Duty to the Horde/Having to listen to Sugar, The feel of bark or just rough wood, Apologizing, Behaving herself, Feeling hungry, Flat shoes, Short nights out, Barbeques.

MECREDI
Fizzy drinks, Answering for Gretchen, Seeing others misbehave or women step out of bounds, Glossy paper, LED facias, Horseback riding, Any kind of machinery that doesn't rely on cogs and steam, Being expected to just 'get on with it' when presented an unusual situation, Lewdness and debauchery, Gas fires.

FEAST
Being caught or chased, Resorting to eating wildlife, Being 'away' too long, The smell of shifters, Beach litter, Shallow waters, Crabs, Pitchfork toting mobs, Low tide, Beach parties.

Q U I R K S

In direct opposition to each other, Gretchen is compelled to maladjust straight edges when she comes across them, putting paintings at an angle et cetera, where Merci is always correcting.

Mec' was born first and lived for many, many years in France. It is her mother tongue but she was quite adept with many other languages when they were introduced and Germany quickly became her second. When she becomes Gretchen she speaks with a very thick and entirely sincere Germanic accent which she cannot fix. To those who have already met her and been made aware of her conditions, it's the main tell tale sign that she has switched.

All personas are extremely musical. Forever humming or chirping or, in Feast's case, howling like a set of bagpipes.

D O W N L O W

Mecredi would love nothing more than to be the only persona. To reclaim her body and have her mind fit into this new world all on it's own so she wouldn't feel so exposed from the inside.
Second to that, she has also considered killing herself or walking into a situation where that would be the only outcome. Where there not so many truly beautiful things to behold in the world, she probably would have done already.

S H O W . O F F

GRETCHEN
Percussion - It stands to reason that the most physical and likely to lash out of the pair would find her strength in music comes from percussion. She's equally skilled in piano and wind instruments as she takes to all things musical naturally, but in percussion she stands above Mecredi as well as many others.

Confidence - There's no putting a dent in it. Gretchen isn't just confident though, ballsy is far more appropriate. She likes to make a scene and she never feels the need to get embarrassed about what she gets up to.

Flexibility - Yeah, we're not talking about the adaptability of her itinerary. Gretchen has the body of a contortionist, possibly because of her naturally curious anatomy.

MECREDI
Hostess - Raised to be a perfect image of chastity, a chambermaid and a lady regent at various points through her life, Merci is flawless as a hostess, knowing her own limitations and what is and is not appropriate for the occasion.

Strings - Having started out with a harp, the first notes her hands learned from an academic perspective were all plucked on dainty wires. Since that point it had been ingrained in her mind that string instruments are the most elegant of tools and they will always be her preference.

Illusive - She has always been very aware of how to present herself, especially since she is so fond of carved flesh, fresh off of the bone, so Merci has learned well how to hide aspects of herself and to make it hard to pin point things about her. Call it feminine mystique, but in Merci it is well honed.

BOTH
Composition - The shared grey matter of these beings has always found it easy to translate the haunting, captivating melodies it is capable of creating on to paper. Merci finds the technical element much much easier than Gretch, but both do well in their own ways.

Limelight/Performance - With a face for all occasions and a demeanor capable of being tailored or tempered, putting on a public show or acting a role comes with particular ease.

Swimming- As always Gretchen is the only one likely to dive in head first, but even Mecredi has, on occasion, been known to wriggle into a long legged one piece to take a dip.

FEAST
Digesting Raw Human Entrails.
Skinning Victims Bare-Handed.

E P I C . F A I L

GRETCHEN
Juvenile - Roughly 27 in terms of how long she'd existed, Gretchen was born with {and holds on to} the mental maturity of a teenager. Big Girl situations don't do anything for her.

Brash - Any excuse is good enough for her to act impulsively. If a situation no longer meets her expectations or else she thinks of a better way to do things, she doesn't waste time to flesh her idea out in full.

Dramatics - Gretchen fancies herself to be something of an actress and takes every opportunity to play the part of hard done by starlet. She still doesn't seem used to the fact that the show isn't always about her.

MECREDI
Technology - The last time Merci saw any grand step forward was with the invention of the steam train. After that, as you'll see from her history, she spent so long 'away' in the form of Feast that she simply hasn't been able to get up to speed yet. It makes it worse because the staff at Urchin need to treat her gingerly or else their classic recording will be an impromptu session in trance beats with Gretchen.

Old Fashioned - She can't get over the fact that men and women are actually equals these days. She will refuse to meet with a man privately, and in public will insist that she have doors opened for her. Her code of morals is rigid but at least she'll never rise to an argument with you. If the situation won't bend around her? Out come Gretch to deal with it.

Conflict - This has pretty much been covered in the above but lets go ahead an summarize it. Gretchen is Mecredi's coping device. If a situation gets too heavy or the subject strays too far from something she knows, or she feels threatened, in fact, then Gretchen is the one who will leap out and handle it with her nails a-swiping. Mecredi as an individual is very fragile in her mental state and it's going to take some serious therapy to address it.

BOTH
Playing With Her Food - Whatever form she is in, though most obviously with Gretch and Feast, she toys with her intended victims.

Decision Making- Mecredi feels she has no right to make any sort of decision outside of her music. Gretchen is too scatter brained and irresponsible. Feast is.. well it's a flesh eating monster.

Dark Men - All of her personalities have a somewhat morbid attraction to men who seem like they might be dangerous. It started with the executioner and went from there; men, and sometimes women, that are in some was perceivable as wicked will always get her heart fluttering.

FEAST
Kitchen Utensils.

T R I C K S . F O R . T R E A T S

SIREN SONG
Actually a rare trait among those named after the watery damsels with their death song, Gretchen has not only a mastery of sung song but once she learns an instrument she can compose powerful music that illicit her desired emotions in those who listen to it. It is Sugar who taught her to temper that skill, do herself some favors and refrain from too wide a notice or else hone it so as much as people love her songs they aren't quite able to fully recall the tunes once they leave. Having been around so long she has fine tuned it to the point where even so little as a hum can conjure the desired effects.

KISS OF DEATH
Contrary to the song that says different, you can't kill someone with song.. at least, Gretchen hasn't quite found out how yet, so she needs another way of killing her meals without carrying an arsenal of tools with her wherever she goes. This beauty comes equipped with poison lips for those occasions, at will secreting an anesthetic venom through her kiss that paralyzes the intended so that she can otherwise take her time.

FREAK COMES OUT
What the likes of Buffy and Whedon would refer to affectionately as Gretchen's 'Game Face', when she gets her monster on she really gets her monster on. A many quilled sea-demon with bulging, reflective eyes, a stub of a tail and webbed appendages that you're not likely to meet anywhere except in a dark alley. No conscious thought, it is pure hunger. A devourer of man.

Not your archetypal Siren at all, in order that she might gain any sort of worth while and lasting sustenance from her meals, it is not sufficient for Merci' to simply drink. She must actually consume her victims and there is very little that goes to waste; bones are hollowed of their marrow and in her creature form she can crush bones with ease. Often the only thing left is eyeballs and fatty tissues -- because even monsters are weight conscious?

M A G I C I A N S . S E C R E T S

Gretchen has been a Siren ever since she hatched {yes, hatched, but we'll get to that} and so a lot of the things that are entailed in that don't really catch her attention any more. She can sense other Sentinels around her but can only really identify full blood sirens. She feels her hunger for blood at all times but unless she's starved she can usually act like it isn't there -- until the moment is more convenient and she can tend to it as ravenously as she likes. She has found that keeping close to the beach at times of high moon is better for everyone concerned though, as it tends to be that the moon pulls at her blood ties and drains her a lot quicker than at other times.

Since becoming part of Plato's Horde some decades ago, it has become easier still to make peace with her separate identities. She's valued for her skills as both a Siren and a musician and Mecredi in herself is sufficiently meek that she is better to be treated as an asset than an enemy. Sugar, the present ruler, has some time been aware that she is better off when she has a protective or shielding presence close by and so if he wants Merci to attend something which might at points prove difficult, there has been a combined effort made to accommodate this.

There had been opportunities for her previously to have joined the Court, but once the Horde's scouts spotted her it didn't take long before she was brought into the ranks. Ever since joining she has been aware of, but failed to indulge, the bad feeling toward both Loners and the Court of Pearls but mostly she'll keep to the rules of her own 'team' but not go out of her way to be malicious. Not Merci anyway... This same impartiality is exemplified toward the other groups though it must be said, whilst she gives the appearance of being even handed and fair with everyone, she does look down her nose on those younger or of lower class than herself. Turned sentinels are the only ones likely to find her a little short on manners.

I M M E D I A T E

Mecredi's mother was a parasitic creature on it's last legs that 'impregnated' a male host and dumped his corpse in a cellar for the incubation period. Still want to see the family album?

She potentially has two siblings running around somewhere out in the big wide world. It'd be nice to catch up, the last time they saw one another was over the decrepit body of their host's body.

S I G N I F I C A N T

Friends, lovers, haters, bosses, current and past, write as much or as little as you like but tell us in brief why they're worth a mention - again, designed to save you going into too much detail about it in your history .. not to mention potentially hilarious.

O R I G I N S

Many of the eggs were unsuccessful when the time for hatching came, of those that were left Mecredi was among them. Normally -- er, normally for this breed of Siren anyway -- the mother would have returned by this point to feed her spawn and nurture them. As it would happen the young ones were forced to feed on each other and scrap it out for their survival as their parent had been slain by fishermen.

Upon her death she had tried to change back into her human shape and through the sludge of decayed matter and scales they had made out enough of her face to recognize her as the crazed forest witch. They visited her home, looking to loot or else wise find proof of the occult and cleanse the area. It would be fortunate they had stopped to bring a priest with them, in this respect, as once they opened the cellar doors the other two of her kin escaped and it was only at the say-so of the father that they hesitated to shoot her down.

The priest upon seeing her child like form {for she was born looking close to the development stage of being a toddler} and her large milky-blue eyes, thought the child only possessed. She would be sent to the nearest convent and from their the necessary measures would be taken to exorcise the demon from the child. A task that would prove most laborious.

T H I N G S . I V E . S E E N

For several years Mecredi St. Soliel-- named for the day she was found on and the convent she was raised in -- was kept in a cell where day and night they would have her strapped to a table while all manner of practices were exampled to try and rid the child of her demon. Many times she came close to death by dehydration when her skin dried out and no sustenance was given. At very chance she bit chunks from clergy members and sisters of the church when they got too close. She barely hung on for far longer than she should have been able to.

Under such trauma it is not unheard of for a mind, weakened by duress, to show cracks.

One dusky October dawn it would be that the monster's shrieks abated. It's chest dropped into shallow, rapid breathing and slowly but surely it's spines shrank out of sight and scales faded. The hunger yielded because it had to, because she was going to die if it didn't come under her control and allow itself to be ignored. She was pale, and deathly weak, but for the first time since she had arrived the shackles came loose and she slept curled up in a ball. Until her release, she ate the living flesh of rats and other small vermin, bringing up her strength until she was able to sing. It started as small chirps, whimsical coos that called the birds to her open windows to, again, be devoured but as her voice grew in strength to be heard by her guardians, it was decided she was at last free of the devil because no child of Satan could have had such an angel's voice.

Treated a s triumph of the Church and the power of God, Mecredi was brought into the daylight and showered with the love of the village. She was taught to speak, where before she could converse only through sorrowful sounds and trills from her throat. She took to both French and Latin quickly, as if she had been speaking them her whole life already and took with even great aptitude to the first instrument they pushed into her hands. It was instinctive as to which notes required which strings to be plucked to produce them and it delighted the Sisters responsible for her upbringing that she progressed so well. God was in her now, and she was flourishing.

When she reached the chronological age of 7, Mecredi was present to the Court of Louis XII. He was in the latter days of his reign and much desired to surround himself with beauty and art as much as he could and had heard tales of the Church's prize being told for some time all around the region. Mecredi, woefully confined each night to a dormitory, forced still to devour animals to satiate her need for flesh, summoned all she could of her knowledge to impress or at least hypnotize the royal. It worked, her spell cast, and the little girl with powerful, wide brown eyes would come to live in the Palace to learn to write properly and tutor under the greatest musicians in the land.

All this time, Merci was still keeping a tight reign on the wants of her stomach, no lean feat for a girl so young, but at least in the palace it got to be a little easier. Her door was still locked nightly but she was getting ever more creative with her Lyres and Harps, placing her wardens under a trance - not too frequently though - so she could venture out. The hunger and Mecredi were still as one, and would remain as such for at least another century, so for now the intelligence of the humanoid mind was on her side.

As she grew up, one king died and another took his place and Mecredi was becoming a radiant creature to behold. Pale and flawlessly skinned, haunting eyes and raven black hair. One could imagine that she would become the basis of beauty that Snow White was cast from. So, with a desire to bring her closer, the new king placed Mecredi as lady in waiting to one of the Duchesses who lived at court. From this higher station she became the object of his obsession but would not bow to his will. Her lessons from the convent around which she had structured her socially acceptable self would not be easily forgotten, so she found herself relying heavily on her music and song to keep her maidenhead safe. Lulling the Prince to sleep before he'd chance to lay a hand on her.

With all this commotion around her about sex as she grew into her fully blossomed form, naturally it would not escape her attention... though with a hunger for flesh it had a very different taste to the other hormonal ladies in waiting.

Obsessed with executioner.
Foul play.
Murder.
European Tour.
Meet with Alexandrian Sirens.
Love?
Hunters.
Running.
Unable to get along in society without being surrounded by Sirens.
Break down.
Living in Ukraine near the dead sea for a century. Became myth.
Shot twice with arrows.
Found again by Sirens. Moved to colonial America.
Too rough and cheap. Sailed for England.
Sensation. No escape from people. Hunger uncontrollable.
Thought to have been eaten by the same beast that killed everyone.
Traveled the water ways and kept to the coast.
Lived on German coat. Endless struggle between two sides.
Mecredi won but she was no longer sufficient to face the modern world. 80's.
Observed from sewers as Feast.
Gretchen born.
Club scene.
Vacationing Horde members found her. Mecredi showed her face.
Initiated.

H E R E . A N D . N O W

Living among them.
Learning more about her kind.
Finds water babies distasteful.

You can call me Lexxibeth and I'm in the law around these parts . You guys better do what I say or else I'll be taking you down!
I guess I'll be sticking around to post both violently, and non-voilently a few times a week. Tell you something though, I RUN THIS SHIT BITCH!

you were not the wrong one

R P . SA M P L E

See Thane, Fiona, Amadeo, Imogen, Adrien or Noah.

[lexxibeth]

. C O N G R A T U L A T I O N S .
guess that means they like you

You've made the ranks love, very well done indeed.
Be sure to claim your face, cook up your own subplot or simply start to network.

Bournemouth's your oyster, baby.