#maeve would certainly run around barefoot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

parabcllums · 5 years

Photo

⧼ stella maeve, cis female, she & her / abrahams daughter by arcade fire + a full moon hanging high in the star speckled sky, skimming the surface of undisturbed snow and drenching in its light the tops of endless evergreen trees and the decrepit cabin you grew up in. your body is more scar tissue than it is unblemished skin, and all you know is how to bare your teeth as if they’re fangs and treat your fingernails like claws. there’s blood on your trembling hands and it doesn’t belong to you, but that won’t stop it from staining everything that you touch. ⧽ ━━ let me tell you a thing or two about VICTORIA CREED. the TWENTY EIGHT year old child of VICTOR CREED ( LOGAN HOWLETT & SILVERFOX ) is a wayward soul in town, and has sometimes been referred to as THE SACRIFICIAL LAMB. they’ve always seemed very INTUITIVE & METICULOUS, though i’ve heard that they can be pretty CALCULATING & RUTHLESS, too. it’s common knowledge that they have the powers of CLAW RETRACTION, REGENERATIVE HEALING & ENHANCED SENSES ; guess we shouldn’t get on their bad side, huh? redirect HERE for her stat page and HERE to her pinterest board.

and THREATS are just PROMISES you actually WANT to keep.

BULLET POINT HISTORY trigger warnings for kidnapping, death, blood, child abuse / neglect, murder, brief mention of assault.

VICTORIA CREED was born in violence. maybe that’s why it’s become all she’s ever known. she never had a CHANCE to be soft - she never had a chance at being someone ELSE. silver fox brought logan howlett the wolverine peace, at a time when it still seemed HARD to grasp. she made him happy. and he, in turn, made her the same, and for providing him with a softness and a kind of forgiveness, he made her feel SAFE. from their love sprung into existence a new life, one that might’ve stood a CHANCE if it hadn’t been for the monsters that hid around every corner of logan’s life. the baby was a SECRET. silver fox worried about what might happen, if anyone knew - and six months gone, she PLANNED on telling him on the eve of his birthday, though it never happened. instead, a monster reared his head. as she died, as her LIGHT went out, silver fox BEGGED for mercy - for her AND THE BABY. it was impulsive, certainly not a part of any plan he had for petty pain, but victor “saved” the child.

no one who would have mattered ever knew about her. with what victor did, to the body… identifying SILVER FOX was hard enough. no one knew she had been with child, and it was sort of perfect, for victor. in this baby he saw an opportunity for a RECKONING of logan’s OWN MAKING. of course she had to survive, first, and he was lucky that her mutation kickstarted as she came into the world - without rapid healing, the preterm and soon christened victoria creed would have died before she could ever have been utilized. she survived, and nobody was looking for her, and with a whole life ahead of her in which she could be molded, victor found himself a WEAPON.

she was never a CHILD. she was HIS DAUGHTER, he raised her as such and he told her as much with a GROWL, but she was not a child. she wasn’t nurtured, or loved. they lived together for a brief amount of time in a cabin, somewhere deep in the canadian wilderness, somewhere that no one would ever find HER - but even when she was young, he had a penchant for disappearing, and when she was FIVE, he started to do that more and more. victoria was never mollycoddled or given a chance to be what she was. she didn’t get to play with other kids, or experience the world around her like a NORMAL child might have. she learned to be SELF-SUFFICIENT, because if she wasn’t, she would DIE. it was that simple.

she learned other lessons, too. victoria was an investment. she was a long term sort of thing - and he treated her more as such than he did a loved daughter, like an actually LOVING FATHER might have. eventually, she would be used to hurt the very people that she SHOULD have cared for. that meant when she was growing, she needed to learn to be a KILLER. her earliest memories, outside of the LONELINESS, are of the metallic taste of warm blood - hunting trips deep into the forest surrounding the cabin, where she was shoved towards mountain lions and grizzlies that would either KILL or be KILLED. he always watched. watched, but never helped - and when she succeeded in toppling the beast, she was not rewarded with words of praise.

for too long, she was too young to understand that this was not the way in which normal fathers treated their daughters. they did not rip their children apart, body and mind. they weren’t forced to KILL, or beaten until they could land a GOOD PUNCH. other kids had birthday parties and a kiss atop their forehead goodnight. victoria never had such luxuries.

his visits to the cabin weren’t frequent. sometimes, she could go weeks without ever having to see him, and in that time, she learnt other things, outside of ABUSE. she learnt the sounds of the forest and how to imitate them. she learnt how to control her mutations, use them for her own good, instead of HIS. she EXPLORED, leaving the cabin daily and running through the area, experiencing the limited world allowed to her.

once, she strayed so far off the track he had told her she could walk in the forest and stumbled across a VILLAGE - the first people to spot the barefoot child as she emerged from the trees with twigs in her wild hair and dirt smudged across her body had gone white faced with shock. they took care of her. brought her to an apartment above a bar, gave her a warm bath - it was the first time she’d ever experienced one - gave her food that wasn’t RAW, told her she could sleep safely in a soft bed that night, while they ‘looked for her parents’. she wouldn’t realize for many years that these people assumed she was a lost child, though she told them, then, how her father was a big, SCARY man, and that she had done some SCARY things. they didn’t believe her. they thought that it was the ravings of a terrified young girl. they allowed her to stay for two weeks. TWO WEEKS of CARE, something she had never had before, and then victor returned and tracked her to the bar, where he slaughtered the customers and found his way upstairs. she awoke to the stench of blood and death and she knew it was him before she had even made her way to the living room, where the owner and his wife lay, bound. this was the first night that victoria killed what WASN’T game - under the watchful gaze of his devil eyes, she didn’t have a CHOICE.

after this, he began to take her with him when he left, sometimes. he had always had ties with the hand, and somewhere along the way, he must have gotten back involved with them. victoria didn’t understand - SHE WAS STILL YOUNG - but she didn’t need to, to do what they wanted. they traveled the world and she saw it all with new eyes, experiencing things that she never could have DREAMED UP in the four walls of the cabin, and along the way, new lessons began. she had always had to FIGHT. it was the only way to make the pain stop, when he started, and sometimes fighting had kept her ALIVE. now he learned to fight for other reasons and he called it ‘training’, but when it came to a hand issued job, all bets were off. victoria wasn’t kept safe by victor. if she needed saving, she needed to do that for HERSELF. this, he said, taught her to be strong. when she had to kill someone along the way, when she hit an animal rage that had been ingrained into her and kept on going - she was learning to be RUTHLESS, and this was a trait that he liked.

he never did care for her. as she got older and began to understand certain things more and more, victoria knew that the neglect, the abuse - they were WRONG. but they were all that she had ever known, and in a way that only children of abuse can understand, she did BELIEVE that he cared. that was why she always did as he said. it was why she never questioned him, when he pointed one way and told her to KILL. LOYALTY. it forms in unlikely places, and it does so with strength that’s hard to break. a mutant in LA during a hand related deal put his hand on victoria’s ass, once, and victor didn’t blink as he ripped that man’s arm right out of his socket. nevermind that months later, he would leave her in tokyo alone for six months. nevermind that he tried to murder her when she was thirteen because she didn’t want to hurt a girl that was close in age to HER. nevermind that three years after that, she spent nine months a prisoner in YEMEN, all so she could kill someone on the INSIDE that victor wanted gone. NEVERMIND that the only reason he sought retribution during that deal gone wrong was snarled not to long later ; because she was HIS. because she always WOULD be.

he was all she KNEW. the life she had led at his mercy was all she KNEW. the limited emotions she was permitted to experience with him were again - all she KNEW. it isn’t that victoria doesn’t recognize that he’s wrong. that everything he’s done, everything she’s done, is WRONG, too - it’s that she doesn’t know anything else, and she’s never stood a chance of it since the day that she entered into this world.

she’s loyal to him, because at the end of the day, the life that he’s given her is the only one she’s ever HAD.

WHAT YOU MISSED ON GLEE:

since this intro was written, victoria arrived in town and set about doing what her ‘father’ asked of her - she killed one of the wolverines grandchildren, she attacked two of his daughters. she would have died for her actions when she finally came face to face with him, had it not been for logan realizing at the last moment that her scent was a mix of HIM & his lost love. it didn’t take a rocket scientist for him to guess what had happened.

she’s been at paragon ever since ; uneasily awaiting the day that either the father who she grew knowing as so comes and gets her, or she is forced to run. the only reason she HASN’T yet is because she has amends to make with the real family who she hurt, and vicki wants to try and do that before it’s too late. she’s aware that someday, she will die, and the life she lives now is one spent looking perpetually over her shoulder for the unmistakable shadow of victor creed - but if, in the few weeks she knows she has left, she can salvage a fraction of her soul - she thinks that dying for what she’s done, and what she has failed to do, won’t be quite as bad.

#sidekick.intro #⌜ ･ﾟ × ･ * she became the bad part of town ― biography. ⌟ / creed.#life is just a series of grinds until ur strong enough to murder ur father kids

1 note · View note

netherwar-rpg-blog · 7 years

Photo

Welcome to the Wardens, Nikki! Your application for a RANGER OC has been accepted with a Jenna Coleman FC.

I cannot emphasize how much I loved this application - I really love how you’ve created this delightful town and proud family which shows that you’ve taken the lore to heart. It’s really unique to see a Ranger awaken far from the Singing Tree but her connection to nature and the Giant Beasts show that Leila has a destiny she has yet to discover. The Wardens can certainly help with that! It was moving to see how Leila desperately wanted freedom and found independence through her friendship with Maeve - which ended messily for them both! It will be interesting to see how Leila interacts with other Priests and if her prejudice against them will continue to seethe!

The application can be found under the cut. You have 48 hours to create a roleplay account (cannot be a sideblog) for your character and we will be updating our opening date soon!

O O C - I N F O

Name: Nikki

Age: 20

Timezone: PST

Activity Level: Usually at least every other day!

Extra: –

C H A R A C T E R - I N F O

T H E - B A S I C S

Name: Leila Briardale

Gender: Female

Age: 28

Class: Ranger

Faceclaim: Jenna Coleman

C H A R A C T E R - D E T A I L S

Nationality: Carnish

Appearance:

There is a raised chin and self-assured stance that suggests higher status, in money or title, of Leila.Yet, the wildness in her walk and the broiling defiance in her gaze-her large brown eyes barely restraining her emotions-hint at something else entirely. They hint of woods, of running, of a risky limitless expanse.

She stands just above five feet but her gestures and voice command room, demand attention. Though appearing unscathed, Leila has a sweeping scar on the side of her abdomen running above her hip while this is not usually noticeable, on account of being under her clothes, this may be seen when she wears looser or shorter shirts.

While she sometimes wears other jewelry, Leila has a plain bracelet made of dark rubber with a leather pad covered by a golden plate. She has smooth stone bracelets and anklets which can usually be seen on her person. Strapped on her thigh, beneath her skirt, is the body of a slingshot and a dagger.

Personality:

- Reckless: Outfitted with a thoughtlessness nurtured from a spoiled childhood in which her problems were cleaned up and hushed, Leila rushes into situations relying mostly on impulse and feeling. Now, knowing that life will always end in death and that nature will continue despite that, she lives with a careless abandon. Leila is enamored with freedom and life but she hasn’t found what she lives for, what will make her afraid to die. Her recklessness is fueled by her disregard for death because she has done more already than she would have done in her old life.

- Self-centered: Being guided by impulse and whims, Leila thinks little of how her actions will affect those around her. She has a certain streak of bossiness and a prying curiosity that knows little boundaries. If people don’t like her, she knows that they can just avoid her and so she’s indifferent to her rudeness. Leila’s thoughts are focused on either her own world or the world, nature, as it is. She’s more likely to work to rescue people she knows or the woods than strangers if she were to have to choose.

- Petty: Though Leila won’t hold grudges for too long, she will act on them. From rolling her eyes to organizing small pranks, Leila isn’t above being absolutely childish to get her revenge. Spite motivates her.

+ Daring: While others may hesitate to take on a dangerous quest, Leila would be the first to volunteer. There isn’t much that would cause her to pause so long as she sees value in doing it, this value able to be something as simple as it being interesting.

+ Honest: Even with her pranks, Leila hates to use trickery. When asked, Leila is usually truthful and straightforward. She doesn’t want to use others or deceive others. If she does trick someone for reasons other than some joke, the guilt weighs on her heavily.

+ Charming: Yes, she is a bit bossy and all over the place but she manages to dance in the space just below annoying, for most people. Perhaps, it is in her openness or her confidence but she has a charisma that, before annoyance, asks people to linger.

C H A R A C T E R - B A C K G R O U N D

History:

“This is it. I always wondered ‘Why must I? Why must I learn these lessons? Why must I be so uncomfortably dressed? Why must I hide my power? Why must I get married?’ But I don’t need to! Call me a disappointment, if you will. A simpleton. A wild child. I am a doll no longer; I am my own.”

The Briardales were a respectable family. Elias Briardale ruled the small town of Blumebell in a way that was neither deplorable or entirely just. Annelie Briardale, the most presentable of all Briardales, kept the locals placated and their reputation as pure as possible. She had married Elias for the town’s love of him and his charismatic cunning in business. Emmerich, their eldest child and only son, was to be raised to be the Baron of Blumebell, taking over Elias’s position. Leila, their lovely and sole daughter, was to be married.

That was Annelie’s plan, unoriginal but fitting. What Annelie had not planned was for Leila to start calling the trees her friends, for the small child of only five to claim her green thumb to be some power. Annelie insisted that she was merely a good gardener but the worry was planted in Annelie and grew as Leila did.

The wildness in Leila struggled to be contained. Running from her lessons, she would drag her brother off to play hide and seek or tag in their gardens. When her brother became too busy to be bothered, she would instead hide among the trees by herself. After disappearing for a whole day to avoid being taught proper posture while walking and sitting among other things, Annelie had their tall trees replaced with shorter ones that could hide nothing but perhaps a tiny bird. It was then that Annelie had to acknowledge Leila’s power, however, after catching sight of Leila from the window crouching into a rosebush to hide and seeing the flowers and thorns moving to avoid her.

Leila learned that this was the marking of a Ranger, that she had been given a gift from the Singing Tree. She wanted to visit it, to ask why it had chosen her and what it was that she should do. She wanted to go there, to go off and away. Distraught, Annelie forbid Leila from sharing her power, from using it, and developing it. This was for the good of the family. This was for her role in the family. This is what she must do.

As a child of ten, Leila learned how to sneak out at night. She had been forbidden from going into the gardens alone and so her night trips had been first purely out of spite. Running barefoot in the garden beneath the cover of darkness and starlight, she felt, she imagined, as how a bird does when lifted by a sudden gust of wind: ecstatically frightened.

During the summer of that year, Leila was invited by Emmerich to accompany him on his trip to a nearby town to meet potential marriage partners. She was almost bursting with excitement, unable to tear herself away from the window of the carriage she rode in. Emmerich rode beside them, insisting on taking his own horse out of his fondness for the beast and so that later he and Leila could ride on it through town together. In the second day of their traveling, they were attacked by bandits.

Leila saw Emmerich’s body slump in his saddle to be then carried into the woods by his startled horse. One of their guards chased him while the other drove the carriage swiftly down the road to keep Leila safe. They did not find Emmerich. Elias became quieter, sterner. Annelie’s desperation sharpened. Leila heard only of dear Emmerich and of her duties.

In the years following, Leila complied with Annelie’s lessons but she still snuck out of their manor, although her wanderings would now spill over into the town. She had seen a flash of the bandit’s face and she had taken it upon herself to find him if he ever were in Blumebell. During one of these searches, she happened upon Maeve.

Messily chopped red hair and a tempest of blue eyes, Maeve’s appearance captivated Leila. The fierce girl had stepped in after other street kids recognized Leila and started to bully her for gold. Maeve shut them up and dragged Leila away to start lecturing her for her goddamn foolish straight-out-of-a-dragon’s ass idea. They became friends soon after.

It was through this friendship that Leila learned of Emmerich’s actual state. While visiting a tavern whose owner would give Maeve free shepherd’s pies and other foods, Leila spotted the face of the bandit who had killed Emmerich. Maeve helped Leila tail the man, or rather Maeve was forced to follow along as Leila ran after him. Upon questioning the man with Maeve’s knife to his belly and Leila standing with all the ferocity Annelie had given and taught her, he admitted to being Emmerich’s friend.

The heir that never wanted to be wanted simply to marry a lady that had traveled to town and stayed long enough to capture his attention and for him to capture hers. Knowing full well that Annelie and Elias would never allow him to marry someone of questionable standing, he orchestrated a plan among his guards and the lady’s close friend to fake his death and run off. Leila had been used to confirm the death. Leila did not share this information with her parents. She tried resigning herself to being a proper Briardale lady but began to practice nature magic while finally allowed in their gardens by herself.

Annelie would have been happy with her daughter had her daughter sat still but Leila did not. At sixteen, Leila had learned how to present herself as someone Elias and Annelie could be proud of and she memorized that person but only acted that way if the situation called for it. Having learned enough, she took to running off during the day.

Maeve would meet her at the docks. Blumebell wasn’t the most well known town in the trade but had a good location at the mouth of a river that exited into the sea allowing for several types of fish. There Maeve would point at different boats and tell Leila of their type, their usage, and their history. Leila would listen but remember none of it, liking the way Maeve’s voice sounded during these teachings too much to commit herself to not needing them.

It was there, too, that they spoke of adventuring. Maeve wanted to become a pirate, to be some rascal on the seas, and Leila wanted to…she did not know what she wanted to do but she promised to eventually meet the pirate Maeve. Perhaps, she would have some special house for Maeve to hide in should she ever need it and there Leila would listen to Maeve’s adventures. Hearing this, Maeve insisted that she would take Leila out to some of her travels then but Leila would need some method to protect herself as to not burden the rest of the crew. The noblewoman began to practice archery and slingshots.

As Leila’s arranged marriage approached, she grew more and more restless. Elias increased the guards around their manor to keep Leila from running off daily. Annelie would bring Leila to her salons, though as opposed to just their created literature it became more a showing of various talents, and book clubs to expose her to other ladies of their status. Leila felt the most at ease during in the gardens during their strolls and evening gatherings but still there were too many people for her to relax. The obligations and the role suffocated her.

So she planned on running.

Escaping to the docks, she told Maeve of her wanting and Maeve agreed. She’d make some plan and they’d go at the end of the week. Leila gathered her things and went to meet Maeve. They set off on a small rowing boat during twilight. Leila did not know where to but assumed they would follow the coast to another town or some hidden house; she was amazed when night fell and she stared up at the lantern light of a ship. Leila had been cooped for some time during which Maeve had met a few others who knew of her and the Briardale lady.

Maeve apologized before pulling out her dagger, forcing Leila up the side of the ship, and tying her up. Leila stared at her friend who had finally become what she had wanted to be. Then she started cursing.

The journey to another settlement was a fairly short one, a week at the most, but it had felt lengthened due to Leila’s behavior. Eventually they threw her into a storeroom to quiet her insults and yells. When they finally arrived at another town, they kept Leila on board while the others went to get supplies and organize a ransom. Maeve and another pirate stayed on board to watch Leila. Hours passed then Leila heard fighting.

Someone had recognized the ship and called for guards and a few other visiting adventurers to deal with the pirate threat. Maeve burst into the storeroom, cut Leila free, and yelled at her to run. She followed Maeve off the ship but some others gave chase. They ran through the alleyways and side streets and had almost reached the edge of town and beginning of the woods when someone cut them off. The priest gave Maeve one chance to surrender but after the very blunt declination fought without much mercy. A guard, hearing the commotion, joined in on the battle. Leila watched not knowing who to help and saw the guard fall to Maeve. There was a brief grin on Maeve’s features before the priest’s sword pierced through her. Leila ran forward as the priest, using magic Leila had only heard about, brought the dead guard back to life.

She begged the priest to heal Maeve; he would not. She drew her dagger; he still would not. Leila darted forward but her attack was blocked. Rangers could heal, but she did not know how. She could feel Maeve weakening, though. She was too aware of it. The priest, frustrated and done with the whole ordeal, moved past Leila to finish the pirate. He was not expecting Leila to react so quickly. The wound in her side screamed but she kept going, taking Maeve on her back and willing her body to go, to go faster, to keep going.

Weakly, she heard Maeve laugh. “You, fucking fool, I am no friend. Get out of here.” And Maeve pushed herself off of Leila. All Leila could tell herself to do was to keep going further, eventually she collapsed in the forest.

When Leila awoke, it was to the sight of an approaching giant wolf. She sat up and used her magic to make medicinal plants to press to her side. Leila only stared, tired and pleading. The wolf stopped and returned her glare. Instead of eating her, the wolf walked off and returned with a rabbit.

In the year that followed, Leila nursed herself back to health and followed the Giant Wolf she named Mona. When Mona disappeared during mating season, Leila journeyed to Siften to find other Rangers and to finally see the Singing Tree. She learned eagerly but found herself missing Mona dearly. Leaving after a few years, Leila ventured back to search for Mona. She tracked Great Wolf prints, hurrying when the tracks indicated some fight and mixed with blood. Leila found Mona inside her den gravely wounded by several spearheads. There were signs of other wolves who had wandered out, perhaps driven by hunger. One, however, stayed behind. A pup as black as the water had been all those nights ago when Leila and Maeve had ran off slept frailly near Mona. Leila left the den and returned with food. She picked up the pup and fed him outside.

Naming him Veit, Leila raised him, traveling around the wilder lands and visiting only the smaller villagers. Still, she felt lost. There had to be more. Leila was finally free of being the tool of the Briardales and even the pawn of Maeve, but she had no other purpose for herself. When she heard about the Wardens, she thought that maybe, just maybe, that could work.

Reason for joining the Wardens:

Leila joined the Wardens to find some sort of purpose for herself. Having finally escaped what she had been ‘meant’ for, she found herself missing any sort of meaning. Maybe, this is why she was chosen to be a Ranger. At the very least, this is a productive way to pass time and hone her and Veit’s skills.

Desired Connections:

Leila is rather new to the Wardens though has probably heard of a few members from tavern talk. She definitely knows of THE LEADER, though, and is wary of her and the other priests. Leila tends to avoid the priests, if possible.

R O L E P L A Y - S A M P L E

(Please provide a sample of your writing to one of the prompts below or use another setting which fits with your character’s background and story.)

In the muffled light of creeping dusk, Leila’s lantern creaked and swung. The tufts of light followed her down and through the narrowed alleys of Blumebell like the essence of an incessant ghost. The weighty blanket of nearing sundown deadened even the metallic clangs and busy jostlings of dinner preparations and shop closings. Leila’s footfalls could have been of a cat’s but still they felt too loud, too rushed, to her ears. She held her breath when passing a window or doorway as if her breathing would make all the difference.

But, she was not afraid. No, she was not afraid. Nervous, yes. Her heart was a persistent pecking bird; it knew no rest. Not even when the looming structure of her manor was far behind her. Not even when the sun fully buried itself beneath its deep purple grave. Leila felt her hummingbird of a pulse up until she saw Maeve.

Standing beside a rowing boat, Maeve raised her lantern to shine on Leila’s face. Her hair flared like fire in the wind and the light. “About time you got the fuck outta there.” Maeve had turned to load Leila’s things into the boat but not before a brief grin.

“I was biding my time.” Leila balanced herself into the front of the boat, raising the corner of her lips with the arch of her brows. “Mother did say to make my entrances and exits as memorable as possible.” She was expecting some comment, some laugh or joke, but was met with a humming nod. But the sea was the sea and they were in a wooden leaf of a boat so Lydia counted the reaction as concern. Though she knew Maeve and Maeve knew the sea and all its modes of transport.

“Where would you like to go first, Maeve?” The question was thrust hopefully into the air between them. “After we complete my daring escape, of course.” Leila drummed her fingers on her lap, the soft claps gone beneath the waves. “I don’t have much gold on me anymore and I won’t be able to give you the safe house as promised but I’ve gotten fairly good at the slingshot. As a matter of fact, if there’s a rock-” Glancing behind her to the front of the boat for a rock jutting above the water, Leila found, instead, a solid shadow in the distance.

In the darkness, lanterns lit. Leila stared. Maeve said nothing but the rowing wavered then slowed then quickened. Within Leila: a dawning and a sinking. In a whisper, “No.”

Before Maeve had even met Leila, she had known of her brother’s death. After Maeve had met Leila, she had found out how Leila had been used. Maeve knew. Leila had shared memories with her as Maeve had shared hopes with Leila. They were friends. They were to be adventurers together.

Again, “No.” Again, silence.

“So, you’ve found a ship and a crew? Where are we going then?” Nothing even with Leila’s nervousness dripping into her speech. “Maeve, I like surprises but this is stretching a bit too much, would you not think so?” Nothing. Leila looked at her friend, she could see her eyebrows ridged above narrowed eyes.

The boat stopped just short of the ship and Maeve reached to her side. She unsheathed her dagger and met Leila’s eyes. Maeve’s lips parted and Leila felt fear then, a drowning sort of dread, a knowing sort of dread. “I’m sorry.”

#accepted #.admin notice #medieval roleplay #da rp #fantasy rp

3 notes · View notes

parabcllums · 5 years

Photo

⌜ STELLA MAEVE, CIS FEMALE, SHE / HER | power by bastille, choleric, the sacrificial lamb ⌟ ⏤ blink and you’ll miss VICTORIA CREED, the TWENTY SEVEN year old daughter of VICTOR CREED / LOGAN HOWLETT & SILVER FOX ! they’re an UNDERGRAD student at paragon academy, and i’ve always found them to be pretty INTUITIVE & METICULOUS, though i’ve heard that they can also be really CALCULATING & RUTHLESS. i don’t think getting their way is a smart thing to do - everyone knows that their ability is CLAW RETRACTION, REGENERATIVE HEALING FACTOR & ENHANCED SENSES. redirect HERE for her stat page and HERE to her pinterest board.

and THREATS are just PROMISES you actually WANT to keep.

BULLET POINT HISTORY trigger warnings for kidnapping, death, blood, child abuse / neglect, child molestation, incest / pedophillia, murder, sexual assault. it’s EXPLICIT, but i tried to be so without getting into the nitty gritty.

no one who would have mattered ever knew about her. with what victor did, to the body… identifying SILVER FOX was hard enough. no one knew she had been with child, and it was sort of perfect, for victor. in this baby he saw an opportunity for a RECKONING of logan’s OWN MAKING. of course she had to survive, first, and he was lucky that her mutation kickstarted as she came into the world - without rapid healing, the preterm and soon christened victoria creed would have died before she could ever have been utilized. she survived, and no body was looking for her, and with a whole life ahead of her in which she could be molded, victor found himself a WEAPON.

she learned other lessons, too. victoria was an investment. she was a long term sort of thing - and treated her more as such than he did a loved daughter, like an actually LOVING FATHER might have. eventually, she would be used to hurt the very people that she SHOULD have cared for. that meant when she was growing, she needed to learn to be a KILLER. her earliest memories, outside of the LONELINESS, are of the metallic taste of warm blood - hunting trips deep into the forest surrounding the cabin, where she was shoved towards mountain lions and grizzlies that would either KILL or be KILLED. he always watched. watched, but never helped - and when she succeeded in toppling the beast, her reward was not words of praise, but an attack of a DIFFERENT kind upon her body. forced to lie in the blood of her woodland victims, forced to stay still with a crushing weight atop her, a PUSHING inside and out of her that was worse than ANY blade.

for too long, she was too young to understand that this was not the way in which normal fathers loved their daughters. they did not rip their children apart, body and mind. they weren’t forced to KILL, or beaten until they could land a GOOD PUNCH, or forced to lie there and face the heavy breathing in her ear and the shaky release that only ever made HER feel more WRONG.

he never did care for her. as she got older and began to understand certain things more and more, victoria knew that the neglect, the abuse, the nights when he invaded her bed - they were WRONG. but they were all that she had ever known, and in a way that only children of abuse can understand, she did BELIEVE that he cared. that was why she always did as he said. it was why she never questioned him, when he pointed one way and told her to KILL. LOYALTY. it forms in unlikely places, and it does so with strength that’s hard to break. a mutant in LA during a hand related deal put his hand on victoria’s ass, once, and victor didn’t blink as he ripped that man’s arm right out of his socket. nevermind that months later, he would leave her in tokyo alone for six months. nevermind that he tried to murder her when she was thirteen because she didn’t want to hurt a girl that was close in age to HER. nevermind that three years after that, she spent nine months a prisoner in YEMEN, all so she could kill someone on the INSIDE that victor wanted gone. NEVERMIND that the only reason he sought retribution during that deal gone wrong was snarled into her ear as she lay face down that night ; because she was HIS. because she always WOULD be.

she’s loyal to him, because at the end of the day, the life that he’s given her is the only one she’s ever HAD.

#⌜ ･ﾟ × ･ * she became the bad part of town ― biography. ⌟ / creed.

0 notes