Born to human parents, raised in a human house, and living around humans all her life, Casey thought that she was human. What else could she be? 

Casey grew up in northern Michigan, and as the only child to two parents who were desperate for a kid, it was easy to say that she was spoiled. She got what she wanted, she had much more than she needed, and she was greedy. But her parents gave in to her every demand without a second thought. She wanted a computer--she got a computer. She wanted a new doll--she got a new doll. She wanted more ice cream for dessert--well, her parents did put up some guidelines. Her room was full of toys and games, stuffed animals and coloring books. Though Casey was clearly privileged and spoiled, her parents loved her, and she loved them more than anything else. 

In school, Casey had several friends who she would hang out with, many of them staying her friends well into high school. Parties, dances, sleep overs--it was everything Casey had hoped for and more. Considered one of the "popular girls," Casey spent a lot of time hanging out and having fun, enjoying all the attention she was getting. She couldn't have been happier with how her life was going. 

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A few weeks after her seventeenth birthday, Casey woke up in the middle of the night in excruciating pain. Every bone in her body felt like it was breaking, her muscles felt like they were being ripped apart fiber by fiber. When she screamed in pain, desperate for help, the sound that came out of her mouth was an animalistic shriek. She screamed again, and the same sound came out. Her parents rushed into her room moments later, her father holding a bat. Her mother screamed, her father just stood there and stared. 

That's when she finally noticed it--looking down at herself to try and see where the pain was coming from, Casey saw red and white fur, followed by a dark snout. Further down her body she saw whiskers and canine legs and a long, bushy tail. She wasn't...she wasn't human anymore. She was...a fox.

Casey can't remember anything after that, she must have passed out. When she woke up again, it was light out, probably midday, and she felt absolutely famished. Her mouth was dry as she sat up in her bed, a raging headache pounding at the back of her skull. Her pajamas must have been somewhere under her covers, because she wasn't wearing them anymore, but she didn't notice. Getting out of bed proved to be more difficult than she had intended--everything was spinning, every part of her was sore--but she managed to get to the door on wobbly legs eventually. Her hand rested in the cool metal of the doorknob and gave it a sharp twist--only for it not to budge. Frowning, she tried it again, but it still seemed stuck. So she tried it again, gripping it tightly, and twisted. There was a popping sound, and then the door opened. 

Still groggy and in pain, and so very hungry, Casey went to the kitchen, not noticing that the house looked ransacked on her way there. She consumed nearly everything in the fridge--left overs, fruit, a jar of peanut butter. She also downed half a gallon of milk, followed by three cans of pop. Finally, her hunger and thirst had been quenched, and she could--Wait, why was the house a mess? Had someone broken in? 

"Mom? Dad?" 

No answer. Casey ran to their bedroom--they weren't there. Their closets and dresser were wide open and empty, as was the safe in the wall where they kept most of their savings. All important documents were gone. All of the pictures on the walls--gone. Out the front door, their cars were gone. In the back yard, there was a smoking pile of ash in their firepit, which Casey ran to to investigate. Tiny bits of blackened or browned paper remained, along with metal pegs that were...from a photo album? Casey picked up one of the singed pieces of paper to examine it closer in her hands.

'Certification of live bir...'

The paper slipped from between her fingers, back into the firepit. Her birth certificate. Her parents had burned her birth certificate, likely along with any other sort of legal documents pertaining to her. They had locked her in her room, grabbed their things, and abandoned her. The memories from the previous night came rushing back to her in a painful flood--screaming, pain, fur, tail, legs, fox--

Casey wasn't human anymore. She was something else. 

An abomination.

Casey kind of just...sat outside, naked, by the firepit, for hours. Her whole life was turned upside down in the worst way possible. Her parents had abandoned her, she could turn into a fox, she had no record of who she was. Of course, her town still knew about her, she still had friends, there was no way her parents had erased records of her digitally, but could she stay? Was she safe to be around? Would she turn into a beast at any moment? 

That night, after sitting outside well after it had gotten dark, Casey made up her mind. 

Casey went inside, ate the rest of the food in the fridge, then packed her bags. She stuffed a duffel bag with as much clothing as she could, dug through her sock drawer until she found an old leather wallet full of cash--containing her birthday and Christmas money, along with some that she might have stolen from her parents, which she in no way regretted now--and filled a backpack with boxes and cans of food from the cupboards. Putting on a baggy outfit, raincoat, and sneakers, Casey walked out of the front door of her childhood home, and never looked back.

The next few months basically consisted of Casey walking, stealing, hiding, and discovering just what she was. A lot of the time she slept outside, even in the cold of winter, incase she changed into a fox in her sleep again. And, actually, she did. But she didn't just turn into a fox--she became a cat, a poodle, a hawk, a squirrel--all while she slept. It took her a while to figure out how she could change while she was awake, and the more she changed while she was awake, the less she did while she was sleeping. It was also far less painful than the first time she had changed. Now it was just uncomfortable, not scream-worthy agony. 

Stealing was something she wasn't proud of, but Casey had to eat, and she had to eat a lot. Apparently after her first change, something about her physiology had changed internally as well. She could burn off food as fast as she could eat it. She stole food from convienient stores and clothes from thrift stores, just enough to keep herself reasonably clean and fed. Sometimes she would actually make a purchase, if there was something she wanted that was too difficult to steal, or she just felt too bad about being a theif. She was already a monster, she didn't want to be a major criminal, too. The cash that she had taken with her from her former home was tightly sealed away in a jar, being saved for the right time. And finally, finally that time came nearly two years after she had first turned into a fox.

{A couple of months before her nineteenth birthday, there was a used car place that she came across that was having a going-out-of-business sale, and Casey jumped on the chance to get a car. Her jar with nearly three thousand dollars in it--she kept a few hundred in her bag just in case--was handed over for any car of her choosing in the lot. There weren't that many, and even fewer that were actually worth the money she paid, but she found a simple sedan that was ass-ugly and rusty but drove well, had all its windows, and the doors could lock. She drove it off the lot before having the chance to do any paper work, but she didn't care. She finally didn't have to sleep outside anymore! She had a radio and air conditioner and heater that only partially worked but it was good enough for her.

Finally, one year after that, she found a job. At the age of twenty, Casey got hired as a busboy in a small-town bar that didn't ask for the papers she didn't have and only paid her in cash, but you bet your ass that she worked her ass off cleaning the place spotless every damn night. Her boss quickly stopped giving her free meals after seeing how much she ate, paid her cash at the end of each week, and eventually got her a uniform, too. Finally, she didn't have to steal anymore, she had a place to sleep away from the cold, and she knew how to control her abilities. Still, Casey had no idea what she was or where she had come from, and she missed her parents even after they abandoned her, but with a job and a running car, she felt...human again.}

EDITING

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Current Life

{Now, at twenty-three years old, Casey still works at that same bar, in that same small town, with that same old car. Now as a bartender instead of a busboy, she made more money, money that she finally got as a paycheck with some...possibly forged documents that might have also been used to get her a bank account and an apartment. Her savings is going towards getting a newer car and paying rent, and she feels happy again. Of course, she didn't think anything would ever make her as happy as her childhood, but she tried not to think about that. Her parents left her, and she left that part of her life behind the day she turned into an animal in her bedroom. Done were the dreams of going to school and becoming a doctor, in were the dreams of being able to get enough groceries and afford rent at the same time. 

Almost every night or early morning, Casey would run in the woods in one of her animal forms, allowing her to sleep more soundly at night so she wouldn't change. Because there was always the chance that she'd wake up as an animal, she never dated, not even a one night stand. It was far too risky. So she remains single, her only friends being her coworkers, who she never spent time with outside of work. It was easy to say that her life was lonely, because it was, but Casey would rather be alive and lonely than experimented on for what she was.}

EDITING

 

Other Information 

Casey's favorite animal to become is still a fox. She had no idea why that was the first form she had turned into, or why she liked it so much--hell, she never really cared about foxes as a kid--but it's still her favorite. As far as she knows, Casey can turn into any animal she visually knows the body of well enough. She had just see a single image of an animal she's never heard of and suddenly become that animal, she usually has to see that animal in person. Mamals and birds are also the animals she can turn into. Reptiles, amphibians, fish, and insects are a no-go, only giving her a headache whenever she tries. Because apparently when you're a shapeshifting abomination, you still have rules you need to follow.

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||Still editing||

{Face Claim: Luca Hollestelle}

NOTICE: A lot of shit is going on, we all know this. I'm having trouble sticking to consistency at the moment but I do still want to write. I'm trying to get back to people timely but that's just not happening as often as I want it to. And I apologize for any inconvenience that caused.

Other character(s) on Writer's Realm:

Malory Grace

Birthday:

October 13


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Character Age

23


Character Species

Shifter


Character Gender

Female


Character Relationship Status

Single


Writer's Writing Style (OOC)

Paragraph, Multi-Para


Writer's Favored Genres (OOC)

Fantasy, Romance, Violence, 18+, Gore, Comedy, Action


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Comments

  •    He snorted unsympathetically.  "The prick got off easy.  I could have given him a lot more to remember his manners by than just a missing tooth, a sore jaw, and a tiny cut on the arm." Callaghan paused long enough to sigh.  He certainly didn't need too, but the habitual action of it was.. calming, in it's own way.  Just like smoking.  Speaking of which..

       The Shadow plunged a hand into his pant-pocket to retrieve his cigarette case.  Made of metal, the outside was matte black, but the inside was covered with a thin layer of felt and coffin red.  Yeah, he thought it was horrendously cliche-- but he'd had it since he was human, and he wasn't ready to throw it away yet, despite his Sires numerous 'suggestions.' 

       "Fuck do you care for anyway? Guy was a grade-A douche-bag.  He probably would have done a lot worse to you, and guess what? No one would have stopped him." Callaghan paused to tug a cigarette free, plopping it between his pale lips.  Willing the Blood to his lips, he smiled around his smoke's filter.

       "..Except for me, I guess.  It's ironic, really." He stared at her for a long few moments without blinking, following her question.  He canted his head to the right, like an animal studying another animal, trying to discern whether it was kin.. 

       Or prey.

       Are you okay? She asked.

       But he'd heard -- Please, drink of my blood.  I beg you.  No, that can't be right.  No one does that.  No one sane, anyway.  He rationalized she couldn't even know what he was... 

       Callaghan opted for pretending the woman hadn't said anything at all.  Yeah.  

       And then he glanced away, scratching the back of his head. "You should really pick up your food.  Who knows what kinda nasty shit this alley has seen?" He probably didn't need to summon emotions unto his face to will his displeasure at the thought of what might be crawling all over the outside of the foods packaging into something almost palpable.  Ozzing from every word.

       It was gone when he spoke next, though, back to the same tranquil lapping of gentle waves upon the pale shores of his lips. "I have a place not too far.  Actual food, too.  Maybe even a little hot water.  So on second thought, why don't you just leave it and join me for the night? And don't worry, I'm not trying to get you into bed for a quick fuck or anything like that." A pause, and he willed himself to smirk.

       "Trust me.   There's only one thing that gets my blood pumping these days, and it's not the pleasures of the flesh.."

  •    Remembering he was still wearing his sunglasses, he reached up and yanked them off his face, sticking them into the collar of his shirt.  His eyes were blue like the deepest part of the ocean.  Vivid pools of color that contrasted the deathly pallor of his skin.  They seemed to carry within them a magnitude of emotions he lacked on his face.

       "Because he was an idiot.  Because he was stupid.  Because he was human." Callaghan sighed. "Because I could." Because I'm fucking Hungry, god dammit, I'm so fucking hungry.  I should have torn out his throat.  

      Should have drained him dry..

       Fuck.

       Glancing towards Casey, he canted his head to the side; emotionlessly asking; "Are you okay?" He wasn't sure himself if he even cared, but it's what he would have asked when he was still human.  Besides, pretending to be human distracted him from his growing Thirst.  If only for a moment.

  • "Yeah, that's right." Brian said as he made sure he had everything. "I'm going to open the door and we're going to run back to where the car is. Just follow me. It's gonna be okay..." Brian said, although he only said it for Casey's benefit. He wasn't sure if everything would be okay, but he had to try and believe it.

    "On the count of three...same as before. Ready? One...two....three!" Brian said as he quickly opened the back door. Once they had both stepped outside, Brian quickly locked it and then began running towards the woods behind his condo. He would be able to find the car by its scent no problem. All Casey had to do was follow him.

    If they could just reach the car before the Hunters caught up to them, they would have a chance. They would be okay. But they had to make it there alive first, without being seen. And that was going to be a challenge.

  •    No doubt.  There was something off about Callaghan-- not so much a stench, as a feeling though.  He only smelled like his clothes, like the shampoo in his hair and the soap on his skin from his last shower-- and probably the last person he touched, this guys sweat on his hands, permeated with the barest hint of alcohol.  With his rampant emotions-- confusion, lust, and a growing anger. 

       As someone with animal instincts, though.. Casey might recognize it for what it is.  Animals always did have a sense for that sort of thing-- 

       death.  

       Here was Callaghan; dead and yet also alive.  Not so much breathing, but certainly walking and talking.

     

       He smiled. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He ran the palm of his hand over the top of the man's head, smoothing the unruly hair back into place.  He kept the casual smile on his face, even after Khaki's pointed out he was right all along.  The girl was a thief, blah blah fucking blah.

         "And you're ugly, and very stupid.  But I'm bored of this, so I'll tell you what.." Feeling the Blood rushing through his veins down the length of his arm, he grabbed the man by his jaw, lifted him up off the ground-- off his feet and high into the air.  Only to quickly slam him backwards into the very same dumpster that Casey was hiding behind-- the whole thing buckled as the mans body crashed into it.  Callaghan had to use a lot of restraint not to break the guys spine-- not to rip the flesh from his face, or crush his jaw like glass.

       He pulled the man towards him, so they could lock eyes-- and that was it.  The man went slack jawed and his limbs tumbled down by his sides.  No ordinary human could resist being Dominated by a vampire, and this guy? He was beyond ordinary. 

      "Go home.

       The man's eyes went wide as his mind was invaded by a foreign command.  Once it took root and Khakis nodded dumbly, Callaghan took a step back and shoved the other male away, towards the mouth of the alley, not even bothering to watch him stumble away. 

       "Idiot." Callaghan muttered under his breath.

  •    Coiling his fingers into his palm, he made a fist.  Squeezing it tightly by his side in order to keep from ripping the douchebags head off.

       But all he could see, all he could smell, was weakness.  Sour and sharp like the stench of urine -- it didn't do much for his appetite, but the Beast was furious-- baring it's fangs, bashing it's head agaist his ribcage, clawing up his insides as it tried to work it's way up his throat.

       It would be so easy.  A flick of the wrist.. dead.  No more douchebag, buh-bye.

       As the smile fell away from his face (it took way too much Blood for a simple emotional reaction.  Fucking humans.) he peered towards Casey, tipping his head.  She was being exceptionally quiet, but it didn't take a psychologist to see that she was upset.

       "That's a pretty shallow apology, isn't it?" He asked her, then turned his attention back to Khakis-- and lashed out with his right hand, the back of his knuckles crashing into the side of the males face.  The force of the blow swung the man's head around, no doubt split his lip, too.  Hopefully, knocked some sense into him. 

       Callaghan was stronger than the average human, but not by much, not unless he was willing the Blood to fuel his extremities-- and luckily for the douchebag, the Shadow wasn't interested in knocking his head off with a bout of vampiric strength. 

       At least, not yet. 

       His fingers snaked out, gripping the male by his hair in order to forcefully turn him towards Casey. 

       "So lets try again, with more feeling this time.  And why don't you try apologizing to her?  Do keep in mind where we are, though.  If you start screaming.. no one will care.  No one.  Hell, there's even a strong possibility that no would even hear it."

       He shoved the man's head a little after releasing a fistful of hair. "And with sincerity, please.  I want to believe you feel remorse." 

  • Okay, damn.  Strong for a little thing.

       So it wasn't a broken jaw, a dislocated wrist, or a pair or bruised testicles.  But it was something, at least.  

     

       The man hit the ground by his feet, momentarily stunned-- he looked up at Callaghan with wide eyes, who simply regarded the idiot with a blank expression behind his sunglasses.  "Hi." He said in a tone lacking emotion, kneeling towards the mans face. "Come here." The mans face twisted with confusion, mouth parting to speak, but Callaghan didn't wait for him to so much as summon the breath to start talking.  Gripping the man by the front of his shirt, he deftly dragged the guy across the floor and into a waiting pool of darkness, vanishing them both from the store without so much as a whisper.

       Even in the Abyss... the stench of alcohol was almost overpowering.  Thankfully, their journey through absolute darkness only lasted a few moments, and then Callaghan was pushing the man at the center of his back, causing him to stumble out of a pool of shadows-- no longer within the store, but smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk.  Into the alley.  Right in front of Casey.

       The street behind them was deserted. 

       And the people on the road didn't care to pay 'Alleyrats' any mind.

       Callaghan shoved the man again, causing him to crash down onto the sticky ground, cussing as he scraped up his elbow.  

       "W-what the hell!?" The guy in khakis shouted, tone betraying his shock, confusion, and fear-- just like his wide open eyes, his bared teeth.  Like an animal caught in a trap.  

       Finally, Callaghan showed some emotion-- grinning-- as he could almost taste it.  The fear.  His Beast screamed to taste the man's blood. 

       "I think you owe the woman an apology." Callaghan whispered with barely restrained menace, his sunglasses reflecting the mortals own terrified face right back at him. "A good one, too.  After the way you felt her up... if you wanna keep those hands, that is."

  • Callaghan grimaced in pain, reaching to his face to push the deep black sunglasses he wore further up the bridge of his nose, closer to his eyes.  Everything this night seemed so damn.. bright.  The light blue walls.  The ugly flashy red carpet, swirling with geometric patterns that looked like they were meant to be a modern artists rendition of the Eye of Horus.  The flourescent lighting that filled the store in itself.  

       He wanted nothing more than to find a nice dark corner to crawl into.  Wait for the store to close, then slip right out the front door with everything he needed for the Prince Panhard's late night soiree, but a shadow in the night.  He was a nobody, so it's not like the Prince would even notice his absence-- or late arrival.

       He started to seriously consider it when the thought was snatched away from him by the commotion to his right--that of a man's voice carrying across the store.  

       Callaghan sighed when the man started to raise his voice, no doubt trying to draw attention to himself.  It worked.  Heads were starting to turn, faces were contorting with confusion and amusement.   The Lasombra however, only pressed his lips together in a thin line, canting his head.  But he remained by the rack of sweaters he'd been lurking by, even as he felt his blood starting to boil.  He simply gripped his own fingers and shoved his fists down by his side.

       At first glance, it seemed like the man might have worked for the store.  An employee coming down on a vagrant for shoplifting.  But upon second glance, Callaghan realized he was just some poorly dressed douchebag from off the streets.  Judging him by the Khakis, Callaghan wondered if he could even afford to step foot in this store at all-- maybe he was lost?  The Shadow frowned, looking to the girl.  The possible "thief."

       Repressing a sneer, he forced himself to remain where he was-- ignoring his tense limbs, ignoring the furious Beast within, demanding he lope across the store and rip the both of them limb from limb for making his headache even marginally worse.  

       Do something.  He thought uselessly towards the girl. Punch him in the throat and head-butt his nose, or something.  Anything but stand there like an idiot and let him walk all over you.  He didn't have the power to project his thoughts into a persons mind-- he could send messages through a curiously man shaped shadow at the corner of the girls eye, but he wasn't trying to freak her out-- or risk breaking the Tradition for something as trivial as this.  Instead, he hoped, prayed even -- though he wasn't sure who his prayers were going too-- whether God, or the Dark Father himself-- he prayed the girl put this khaki wearing douchebag in his place. 

     

  • (He's only been 'dead' for a few months, so it should be an experience for both of them.  Lol, I'm cool with that.  Would you mind starting us off?)

  • (I'm honestly fine with either.  Winging it might be simplest, just to get character introductions outta the way.. but if you wanted to plot, I do kind of have this vision of Callaghan accidentally seeing Casey transform.  It would definitely pique his curiosity and give him a reason to approach her.  ((He likes to avoid humans at all costs, when he can.))

    Yes and no.  It's not really -his- dislike of weakness as it is a genetic disposition shared by -all- members of the Lasombra clan.  Something in the Blood flares up whenever they witness an act of weakness, or a weak person in general.  It's.. instinct, I guess.  Kinda like.. turning your back on a jaguar.  They sense it's their chance to pounce.    But he can fight it.  They can fight it.  If they want too.   Whether they win or not is another matter entirely lol.

    Hm.  I also kind of have this vision of Casey being berrated by someone, and just taking it.  Callaghan would trip witnessing something like that.  Probably even break Tradition to correct it. xD)

  • (NYC is Callaghan's prime playground.  He doesn't travel much outside of it-- doesn't really have any reason too.)

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Callaghan and Casey May Evlin are now friends
Oct 10
Nǝssᴉǝ and Casey May Evlin are now friends
Oct 9
Casey May Evlin left a comment for Victor Blood
"||No problem! I'm sorry for my own delay, I was on vacation.||
Casey felt herself shrink under…"
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Casey May Evlin left a comment for Victor Blood
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Casey May Evlin left a comment for Victor Blood
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Casey May Evlin left a comment for Victor Blood
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Casey May Evlin left a comment for Victor Blood
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Casey May Evlin left a comment for Victor Blood
"||Alright, sound good! I'll finish up the starter and send it you way soon.||"
Sep 11
Casey May Evlin left a comment for Victor Blood
"||Sure, that can work. I started working on a simple starter but I can definitely add a character…"
Sep 7
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