Registration Date: 05-30-2013
Last Visit: 10-18-2013 07:50 AM
Total Posts 23
Played By: Isilzheha

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Age Immortal	Gender Female
Species Changeling	Sexuality Heterosexual
Mate	Pack Council
Rank Refugee	Alignment Sol

Relations:

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Other Info:

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Reference

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Vinea is a sight to behold. She is tall, taller than most females. Her legs are long and lean and bony and that goes for the rest of her body as well. Her shoulder blades jut upward, prodding against her skin tediously and even more so when she is moving. Her hips stick out, curved and elegant though not at all healthy. Her cheekbones are high and her muzzle slender and long. Her spine curves upward and her stomach slips past her rips and pinches up to her hips. If you could even call it a stomach. Her ribs are like washboards, sticking out against her thin skin hazardously. Her eye sockets seem hollow, her ears long and large. She seems to be all angles and bone, really.

Her fur hangs from her body thinly. In fact, she doesn't have too much of it, unlike other wolves. It is fine and wavy and soft to the touch, despite her otherwise ghastly appearances. Her tail, however, is long and thick, much like a lizard's might be. The hairs are very short and fine here and velvet-like in texture. Along her nape, however, the strands are longer and wavier and rather ethereal, the way they move. Along her spine, between her hips is the same sort of hairs, trailing from her body. Her ears are long and slip backwards, no resemblance to a wolf at all in her facial features so distorted by her bloodline over the years.

Her base color is a dull, light green. It covers the majority of her body, wrapping across her ears and back and sides and the better part of her tail. It deviates to a royal blue all along the underside of her body. It starts at her chest and sweeps underneath in a rather thin space and cloaks her tail, cutting off the green and covering the rest of the appendage all the way to the tip. Along her ribs and tail are thin, reaching stripes that cut into the green and reach up her body. This same blue can be found just along her jaw, curving down her neck thickly but narrows out into a thinner stripe, accompanying stripes curving along the marking. More blue can be found upon her legs, her front legs entirely covered by it while her hind legs are covered from the hock down. The pads of her paws are the same green of her body, as well as are her claws. The hairs upon her mane and rump are a dark magenta, contrasting well against the rest of her body. The hairs along her back are blended beautifully, the green fading easily into the dark pink color. As for her face, well, it is capped in a light tan that is nearly a pale gray in color. The same goes for the ridged horns that curve up from her head. On one side, that is. The other is charred a dark gray and shiny like obsidian. Her eyes are a bright, piercing white. She has pupils, though they are a tad lighter than the rest of her eye and that is the only way one could tell where she is looking. The white stands out against the rest of her body, even more so as they are lined with blue.

Despite all of this extravagant and vibrant beauty there is something that mars it entirely. One would think her perfectly symmetrical, the way her markings and colors are, and while they would not have been wrong one day in her past, they would be wrong now. Her entire right side is scarred. It is completely burned off, red and pink and very much like raw meat in appearance. It stands that she cannot see from her right eye, though you would not be able to tell that very well. In fact, more often than not a thin, fine stream of blood can be found trickling from the useless organ. She has no hairs on her right side and the flesh is barely there, covered in thick scars.

Vinea is a dark, ominous entity. There is not a single tricking bone in her body and she is honest to the core. Loyalty, however, is where the problems with her lie. She would have to be thoroughly convinced to follow someone in order for her to actually pledge some kind of alliance with them. While this is not an issue with authority, it is simply how her mind functions, as she does not like to waste her time. She's mysterious, above all else, and hard to peg to a certain personality. She is widely intelligent and educated and full of common sense though that does not always stand for something. She has a way with words and loves to hear a good story.

She loves culture and history and having been alive for so long might have something to do with that. She loves an interesting character and likes to hear about other peoples' lives. This is because she lives vicariously through others, living or dead.

She is very old-fashioned in her ways, and believes in politeness and kindness yet only if someone deserves it enough. She is rather spiritual as well. When she was younger she was in tune with nature and the souls around her, finding peace in the sounds of the world around her and the voices of others. She is elegant and suave, everything she does calculated and timed to a tee. She never misses a beat and is observant of everything and anything. She listens. She understands. Despite all this, however, her untimely assault has not been going well on her mental state. She has mood swings like no other. One moment she may be perfectly content and another she could be a raging banshee or swallowed in sadness. Sorrow is something that clings to her like a plague. She feels it like a cancer in her system and it follows her everywhere. Though many may ask her why this is so, she honestly could not tell you, for the most part. Most of the time it is random and spontaneous, though she hides it quite well. She takes death rather seriously, and pain is not weakness to her. She revels in it, really, though she would not inflict it intentionally unless the situation calls for it. She is mysterious and stoic with her emotions, choosing to keep them mostly to herself and her trust issues run deep.

The most peculiar thing about her sorrowful aura is that it projects upon the world around her. If it is intense enough it will follow her around, the skies darkening to a nearly black, thick clouds raining down droplet of pale red. Many could speculate that it is blood, but it is a phenomenon that is unexplained even to her. In these times, many will find the bloody tears trickling from that one eye.

The world has not been kind to Vinea. She was born in a litter of four, being one of the middle children. She took after her great grandparents in appearance, standing out rather starkly from her gray, black, and white siblings. While this did not bother her parents or even her siblings it did bother the pack she was in. It seemed unnatural. The pack was pure, great, and fantastic in their views on the world. They were all in tune with the dead, each one seeming to find comfort in the silence of the spirits. Having any sort of markings or bright colors seemed to be an omen for them, but it did not deter Vinea from living her life. She grew up well, gleaning off of the playful nature of her brothers and sisters and flourishing well under the care of her parents. The self-proclaimed shaman of the pack was someone Vinea found most interesting. Most nights were spent sitting in front of the fire, listening to her shaman tell of the stories of old and the wolves that had inhabited Adymeria long before their time. She would sit and listen until the skies grew pale blue with the morning light.

She was a Changeling by nature, though she did not associate much with any of the other packs in Adymeria at the time. Vinea had an affinity for the sun worshippers of the land. The children of the sun, the wolves of fire and life and energy. That was what she was most interested in, and she honed in on her Shaman for these lessons and stories and legends. She loved a good story as a child and not much as changed in those regards. While she was scorned and glared at by some of the wolves in her little pack this did not get to her as some might think. She was rather optimistic, really. When she came to be a year old, it was time to find her better half.

So off she went with her beloved Shaman, stealing through the night and days until she found her familiar. Oh how excited she was! It was a large cave lion who seemed to call to her. Her soul was dormant, caged, locked tight in her body and all Vinea had to do was set her free. She was beautiful, gorgeous, the massive beast resting easy in her cave when Vinea crept silently forward. She cast her senses outward, metaphysical fingers prodding at the big cat. She felt it, oh did she feel it. The lion, however, awoke. And she was not at all happy. Roaring loudly she charged the young wolf. Vinea suffered a good blow that day, being flung into the cave wall and scratched along her right hip. The gouges were deep and stung like a bitch, her shoulder dislocated and she figured she probably got a concussion but it was all worth it. The lioness revealed her name to be Aliud, and what a regal creature she was. She bonded quickly with Vinea, both in soul and mind.

When the Shaman healed Vinea and they returned back to the pack not many found reason to cross her path, the large, intimidating lioness guarding her companion well. Vinea lived her life, practicing her magic when she could and enjoying the world around her. She came to be four years old, living happily in the pack even when her parents passed on and her siblings surpassed her in rank. She had no interest in that, wanting to simply find herself and her place in this world. So she decided to leave the pack, traveling out into the deep recesses of Adymeria. She made some friends, gained some enemies, though she always moved and never stopped. Then she met Claudus. He was a fine Halfling, seeming noble and trustworthy. He traveled with her, not having ties of his own to a pack. And traveled they did. They learned much about each other and grew ever closer until they could not bear it anymore and fell in love. For three years they lived healthily, happily. One night, however, that all changed.

Vinea awoke with Claudus standing over her. His body was contorted and changed. Bones jutted against skin, eyes blazing brightly in a foreign face. It was the eyes, really. The eyes told her who he was because nothing else did. Even his colors were changed. Vinea was concerned and alarmed, wondering what happened to him. When she ran to his side, trying to help him, he pushed her away. He said nothing, no words escaping his mouth as he stared her down. His jaws parted, lips peeling back. His chest seemed to glow, throat convulsing and ash falling from his mouth. A ball of brilliant light formed between his teeth and Vinea cowered, backing away, trying to snap him out of whatever it was that had taken him over. He didn't listen, and a massive stream of flames roared from his mouth. Vinea tried to dodge it and get away but it engulfed half of her body. It seared down her side, clinging to the hairs and setting it all afire. She screamed, falling to the ground in writhing agony, trying to put the flames out. She could feel her flesh burning, peeling back like the layers of an onion. The stench of her burning flesh and hairs clung to her like a vicious cologne and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The pain took her, panic and agony both physical and mental claiming her to darkness.

When she awoke she could not move. Her body was stiff, blackened, blood oozing from the burned sores and collecting beneath her. She could see her bone. She could see it all, it seemed, and she did not know what to do about it. She figured she was as good as dead, lying there. A gentle rain began to fall across her, soothing her aches and sores but not at all a reprieve from the piercing pain that still found her. She couldn't move. It hurt too much to move. The rain began to pick up pace, her vision blurred and not even existent anymore in one eye. She was bleeding out, going into shock, and there was still nothing she could do about it. The rain was heavy now, weighing upon her more than it should, and she felt the life slowly draining from her body and once more the darkness claimed her.

To this day she still does not know how she survived. She had been saved, that day, but by whom she never knew. That was many centuries and ages ago, and yet she still remembers it like it was yesterday.