In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the Silence of our friends.....
Willow Freya Hayes
Age: 29
Job: owner of the bar Inferno.
Siblings: 3
Children: 0
Relationship status: Single
Childhood is ment to be the best time of a young girls life, full of dreams and playing with there mothers. But for some of them that is all a dream, the reality is far from happy. Having a crack whore as a mother was only the begining of the horrors that Willow faced. You see as a broke addicted you would do anything for the next fix and that includes letting your dealer abuse your 5 year old daughter. But it didnt stop there, nope it got so much worse. He would turn up everyday with crack just so he could have his way with a little girl. If she put up a fight or screamed he would choke her till she passed out. So may time she would wake up covered in bruises and blood from him beating and raping her. When she was 7 her mother gave birth to her two little brothers and twin sister. It was this point on she stopped fighting for fear he would turn his attentiin to her younger sister. Still this life continued. She never attended school but learnt what she could by teaching herself to read and write. She loved maths and art, would spend any free time she had drawing pictures of wide open spaces with flowers and trees, her dream to live away from any and all humans. She would take care of her siblings everyday while her mother was passed out high or drunk, having to steal money where she could to buy the basic things babies needed, often going without food herself to make sure the babies got the best start at life. Once she hit the age of 10 she could no longer take it, so she came up with a plan. Once her mother was out cold from her hit, she packed up the babies and there few items and left the house. She carryed them down to the local shelter leaving them on the door step with note. " Please take care of them, they need love and a home with a mother who will love them.. Thank you.." She tucked it into there bag before heading back to the hell hole she called home. This was it she was going to try and get her mother help. But when she arrived home she found her mother dead on the kitchen floor with a needle in her arm. She cried for what felt like hours before packing herself a bag and heading back to the shelter to find her siblings.....
In and out of so many foster homes never finding a place that they all fit.. Losing hope that they would find someone to love them and protect them. At the age of 13 she and her siblings landed in a foster home of what seemed to be a nice family, but looks can be diceiving. The father and older brother liked to play games, not the normal games ones should play with young girls. The father would come into her room every night with his son to as he would say teach his son how to please a woman. Either way you cut it, it was still rape but again she took it to protect her little sister from the same fate.This lasted for 2 years before the mother found out what was happening. Of course she was blamed for leading them on, and so they were sent back to the orphanage to find a new home.
The marks Humans leave are too often scars...
At the age of 14 she found out who her father was and why her mother hated her so much. Turned out that she was a child of rape herself, her father had raped and beaten her mother one night at a party and that is how she come to be.. This is also it turned out why she started taking drugs and drinking, she was trying to fotget that night, but she was a constent reminder of what had happened. This is also the year that she found out how different she was from normal children, she always knew she could do some weird stuff like move tings with her mind and start fires with a simple click of her fingers but she never knew how she came to be this way until a letter arrived for her from her mothers best friend. You see her mother a power witch and athe high priestess of a coven untill she ran away never seeing anyone from that life again. The letter told her that her father was a demon prince who enjoyed raping and torturing witches but never before had one gotten pregnant. Her father is none other then Asmodeus the demon of Lust.
At the age of 15 she found a job that paid well enough that she could save up for a home for herself and her siblings. She spent next to no money at all and her boss held onto the rest of it for her. Still living in the system being passed around like some party favor but at least from this point on she was never raped one small mercy, didn't mean she wasnt still beaten from time to time. Once she hit 18 she and had enough for a small house for her and siblings she left the system and moved out of her foster care home. If you could call it a home..
Now days she works her ass off to pay for her siblings to go to school and all the extra help they need, but she doesnt mind as she works in a bar that she bought herself with her old bosses help. She is still very broken from her horrible past but is looking forward to future that she never thought she would ever get..
Learn to enjoy every minute of your Life....
Comments
(Been away. Trying to get back into this miss muse. When I do. I'll send that starter. Think I remember our plot)
Che lifts a hand, tousling it through that mop of unkempt locks, gaze transfixed. This woman appeared nuts. She just… knelt there… facing him, and he didn’t understand why she wasn’t already hightailing it out of there already. The breeze licked at his exposed flesh as he stood unmoving. And when she spoke again, he’s nodding. For someone in his mid-thirties, he’s got the body of an athlete; ropes of sinewy muscle threaded beneath the skin of his arms and legs, his washboard stomach flexing, Adam’s apple bobbing with every swallow of excess saliva that might’ve accumulated at the back of his throat. Disgusting sensation that is, by the way. It was hard enough trying to communicate through feline vocalizations, but now? He’s talking to a parrot.
“Yes-”
He guffawed, furrowing his brows.
“Shapeshifter. Werecat, might be more appropriate or understood. I’m sure you’ve heard of those. Everyone in this region has. The stories have been passed down for generations of the monstrosities that inhabit this mountain. You must be new.”
Heh. He could practically smell her all over the ledge. Her skin, her hair, the naturalness of a woman. Even in his bipedal form - his human form - his senses were heightened beyond that of any regular human. Dirt smeared across his torso and over the sculpted arch of his Adonis belt that melted down his frame towards his… well… he was quite naked. Where were his clothes? Why wasn’t he embarrassed about being seen in all his masculine glory by the female? Perhaps he’s used to venturing out in his birthday suit. It’s not like he went looking for her on purpose.
“I’d ask what you’re doing on the mountain but it’s clear you’re here for one of two reasons. The first, you’re looking at working on your tan. Or second, you’re a jumper. Plenty of them lost to the dawn in these parts. And if there’s a third and you’re only up here to watch the sunrise, you’re better off hiking up the mountain a bit further. View’s a lot better and the ledge is wider. Fits more people.”
A stand-off. Neither seemed to make a move. The feline lowered his head and took another deep sniff, inhaling the scent of the woman from the earth and sky. Intoxicating. The woman unnerved the large feline, one way or another, so when she decided to take it upon herself and pivot, about facing him on her knees, his defenses went up and a low snarl beckoned forth from his maw. Their methods of communication were obstructed by the difference in species. Unless this woman could understand his throaty and guttural vocalizations.
One step forward, two steps back. He inched backwards, creating a canyon of distance between them while refusing to lower his gaze any. Having learned that turning one’s one back on a possible enemy had dire consequences, especially those hunter types. They were dangerous. This woman didn’t appear dangerous at first glance, but again, his instincts weren’t always on the money. Fwump! His rump positions itself on the ground. The tip of his tail twitching. Ears swivel forward, listening. Eyes observing.
The rising sun was beautiful, the woman’s silhouette a stark contrast against the warm yellow backdrop, and the feline content enough that he wasn’t about to attack without reason. And then she speaks, a murmur on the breeze, a whispered echo that traverses the vacancy between them. His shoulders roll forward as he rises, scuffing his paws in the dirt, a throaty rumbling following. A harmless indication for the woman to stay where she was. The transition from beast to man was fluid, effortless, and quicker than expected.
Dark locks settled against the forehead of a man. Mid-thirties in appearance, dark eyes, bronzed complexion. His flesh played home to a number of intricately displayed tattoos. Above his left eyebrow resided a deep pink scar, gnarled and jagged through his flesh from a fight many moons ago. Clearing his throat, those dark eyes making contact with the woman, he spoke. “Shapeshifter.”
Tracking was simple. His prey was weak, injured from the back, and leaving a physical trail of evidence in its wake. The sun had yet to rise, the evening’s rainstorm having swept away any of the mountain lion’s scent. His dense cremello coat tainted with blotches of earth. He treads lightly, working his way up the side of the mountain, paws caked in mud. He comes to a fork in the trees and pauses, lowering his muzzle to the ground. Droplets of blood stained the leaf litter. He’s close. It’s not often he traverses this side of the mountain, and it’s rare that he would approach any populated areas - especially in this form. His whiskers twitch, sensing his surrounds, his perfect vision scouring the landscape. He moves soundlessly through the undergrowth, laying low.
A pitiful cry sounded nearby and he’s off, great loping strides carrying the large beast forward. He’s so close he can taste the blood in the air. Nine feet… five feet… three and a half feet… A snarl tears from the predators throat as he lunges, jaws gaping, canines glistening. His paws land a bone crushing blow to the deer’s ribcage, his jaws enclosing around the deer’s throat, crushing its windpipe. After a feed and a half, the great mountain lion heads towards the sound of a running stream. Fresh water and a bath was looking better with every passing second spent wandering through the treeline. Finally the sun was beginning to peek through the trees, sending rays of sunlight spilling across the damp ground. He’s avoiding any of the main mountain paths used by hikers.
Finally reaching the stream, he plunges into the running water, shivering as the cold infiltrated his pelt and soaking him to the bone. It felt good, refreshing, but it would leave a bitter chill the moment he transitioned back. Dipping his maw beneath the trickling water, he drank deep, gulping down mouthfuls of the water until he’d satiated his thirst. But something else had caught the feline’s attention. A scent. Human, possibly. Licking his lips, he pulls himself out of the water, his body rippling from head to toe in a full body shake, head raised. The smells lingered at the edge of the stream, imbued within the earth, like an imprint of sorts. A roll of his shoulders followed by a burst of strength and energy and he’s loping back up the mountain, making light work of mountainside itself.
As he approaches, the scent grows stronger, the air thinning as he reaches the top. He’s sheltered by a line of trees acting as a guard between himself and whoever was on the other side. By now the sun was well above the horizon, casting its warm glow across the landscape. Forgetting momentarily where he was, he steps through the brush towards the ledge, water still dribbling from his pelt, he stands bathing in the light and staring at the female before him. His predatory instincts tell him to attack, but his human instincts are telling him to stay put. If he doesn’t move, if he doesn’t breathe, then the female won’t notice him, right? She smells good. So good it’s almost a temptation to the large feline.
I'm working through replies and stuff at the moment.
It's a long process, I'm sorry, but we're getting there.
Have some Che to tide you over. <3
{Nice to see you are still around. I will work on that starter. }
(I can try to send a starter and try to recall what our idea was. I think I got it. If you are still around. I will send a starter. }
Wonderful page :) I seen we are friends, was curious if you would like to possibly write?
I really like you character Theo!! Let me know love.
(Ah Yes. Asmodeus is his primary father and Lilith is his mother. Azazel is like a father surrogate. Something opposite a female surrogate bring a child to term. He added his own contribution to the mix that would give birth to Marius.
Different story then a prevous shadowhunter version i did m. Sorry for any delays. Been on a hiatus but should be back now. We can go with whatever location Ava currently is in. How would you like them to meet and any idea as to what direction you want the story to go?)
(Well Zane usually hangs in New Orleans. Sofya is normally somewhere in Russia or Eastern Europe. Marius travels around a lot so he can be in any location. He doesn’t have a set home base but he often is one one of the five boroughs of New York. He is quite the evil bastard but also a charmer)
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