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about Ghost
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Registration Date: 06-25-2013
Last Visit: 08-26-2013 02:17 PM
Total Posts 3
Played By: Lexa
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Ghost Deadfell's Info
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general information
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Age
3 Years Old |
Gender
Female |
Species
Frost Sentinel |
Sexuality
Heterosexual |
Mate
N/A |
Pack
N/A |
Rank
N/A |
Alignment
Luna |
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appearance
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Reference
Mounted with a genuine perfection atop seemingly endless columns is an ethereal creature; divine in creation, the wicked female weighed no less than ninety-three pounds whilst standing sixty-eight inches tall, unintentionally revealing her to be a half-starved, little damsel. Although malnourishment seemed to be the cause of such delicate and lithe physicality, the individual who observes the vixen to be fragile and deprived of proper nourishment is sincerely mistaken. The she-devil's enticing features are often deemed frail and easily compared to that of a flower's delicate petals; the silver-haired goddess is unequivocally comprised of high standards pertaining to salubriousness and blooms with barbaric vigor amongst others of parallel health. Being of Frost Sentinel origin she is held naturally taller than most other species and is acceptably gaunt due to genetics. Her features, indubitably pronounced due to various protuberant bones such as her collar bone, shoulder blades and hip bone. Whilst these particular bones aid in the appearance of a gaunt, highly agile and flawless form they are also enveloped with sleek, glorious muscle; muscle which consumes the entirety of her otherwise lissome physique. All of this woman's ravishing embellishment rests with total comfort atop unusually elongated, thin legs which seemed as though they would continue to extend for all eternity. Elegant, lithe paws all but ended the limitless allurement in which this goddess was comprised of and suggested she was light in tread and quick with precise and decided movements, like a ghost. This bewitching creature of winter's fury retained the prowess and finesse similar to that of a feline's artistry.
A beautiful weapon of war; if not for the achromatic colorant which consumes the wicked creature's gaunt and ethereal features, she would be an utterly flawless asset to any acts of espionage. Winter kissed this moonlit beauty with the ever enticing nature of ice; wisps of silver hair embrace cadaverous perfection, concealing it from the elements whilst continuously ensnaring the attention of male and female counterparts. A thick mane of ashen pigmentation borders her slender, alluring facade with elongated hairs which seemingly curled whilst being raked through by winter's clammy, skeletal fingers as if each tendril were a wave rolling across the vast expanse of immaculate sea. The name, “Ghost”, given to the lady not just for her haunting features and eerie disposition but for the impeccable, frosted veil which carefully cloaks her impervious physique. The wicked vixen is of stark-white coloration and lacked any variety of blemishes that would otherwise taint or ruin her beautiful, frosted pelt; the fur which adorned her enduring features was as alluring and as easy on the eyes as the beauty of a full moon is to her ever faithful audience. Ghost quite often takes on the breathtaking appearance of a goddess; one born of ice and of violence – cherished by many an admirer, in particular the season of the dead; for she is graced with winter's eternal embrace. Though the female takes on the very mirrored image of perfection, she like many others is marred with the afflictions of her past.
Scars riddle the female's face and legs, though none caused for much attention there is one of particular nature that grabs at even the most difficult of audiences. A cluster of claw marks adorn the outer structure of her right eye; fortunately these wounds did not damage the eyes in the slightest way. One other scar stands out amongst the others and perhaps conceal the most prominent of pain. This scar cannot be seen or felt, because it lives within, imprisoned by a box of ice which for most of her life has replaced the once warm, beating heart in her chest. Many have felt the rare creature of hurt that lives within this particular organ, but being a true rarity herself, unlike most, she is able to mask the fact it affects her so deeply and has managed to replace it with the most furious of embers. Whilst this unseen scar may trigger the curiosity of many an individual, it is not the most alluring feature of her physical being. Her eyes are the true captors of admiration as they are comprised of a lurid winter which carries in her cold, barbaric embrace a sombrous rage.
A distinct feature of the Frost Sentinel is an ice consumed nose as well as eyes. Commonly these creatures are seen with both blue eyes and a blue nose; Ghost is a rarity in deed for her nose is of black hue, though still glistens of ice and her eyes are not any color representative of the element. They are a deep, blood red pigmentation that demanded absolute admiration. Death lingers in their frozen surfaces; cold and seemingly void of warmth and life. The intensity of her eyes are a harsh, violent and bitter reality that sting with the pain birthed from the early stages of frost bite. Each eye is comprised of an intoxicating silver tint frosted with the ever alluring white of ice, though this glaze did not hinder the actual color of her eyes it did enhance their luster causing them to glow enticingly. Unlike their light and airy counterparts they are incapable of manifesting a reflection nor did they enable an onlooker to gaze within her soul. The chilling horror of her eyes not only implores attention but may also bewitch an individual who may be more susceptible to beauty. Like ice, her eyes seemed destitute and void of life – they are haunting as if they are phantoms themselves, and though they compose a sense of vacancy, they actually burn an admirable brand of passion that confines a far greater intensity than wild fire. Ghost's eyes are wicked breaths of temptation; her piercing gaze has been rumored in the past to penetrate an individual's soul and at times this belief may actually wield truth. They are very wise, sharp, attentive tools which are equally and highly capable of ensnaring deep admiration from some who dare to stare within their cruel, glass-like depths. These are the eyes of a forsaken soul; enticing, arcane, morbid and austere. To stare into them for a second is to become lost within them for a lifetime.
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personality
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The beautiful and long lived season of the Ice Moon is one which rarely pays its tribute towards lives birthed in its frore and murderous embrace. The Ice Moon is a cold and heartless season whose furious wrath is known by all. It is believed and known to many that the souls who are brought to life during this treacherous time of year are fated to live lives as barbaric and filled with violence as the season from which they claim origin. Many forms of natural order cling to the very fibers of this deadly and merciless, cold solstice and the one that first comes to mind is death; for this reason the Ice Moon is commonly associated with the Goddess of Death and to my family she is the only deity, the one true Goddess. Luna is Her name and for as long as my family's bloodlines have been flowing, it is to Her and Her alone that we give praise. My ancestors passed the Word of Luna down from generation to generation and her belief runs strong in even the youngest of Deadfell's; the youngest being my late brother and best friend, Naterík Deadfell, who is survived by his only living son, Kaeden Deadfell.
My mother always said to her children that the moon dictates the soul's right of passage and that one day the glorious, silver sphere would rule us all, not from Her place in the ominous black of night, but in the throne of the world when darkness slithers across the sunlit skies to embrace and devour us all. I was young then but remember a very intense feeling that washed over my body like a rush of warmth; I had pledged my life, the lives of my unborn children and allegiance to the darkness and felt as it soon began to slither throughout my youthful body, filling me through with a confidence which could only come from true belief and proof of my devout convictions.
From the very moment I could feel Luna's presence within my very soul I knew, much like a slave, my mind and body were nothing more than a puppet whom she had control of by various, unseen strings. I first felt the strength her love provided me at a very early age, and from that point on her influence greatly aided in the sculpting of my soul and personality.
Darkness lurked within every corner and often enjoyed playing tricks on the eyes of those least expecting. As the young female blossomed into a beautiful and devout agent of chaos she began to realize things about herself that might cause another man or woman to worry for her sanity. Lunacy was such a thin, unstable line to walk along to begin with and Ghost found great pleasure in playing with its frailty. The female, since a very young age, had always been bold and often played pretty close to the chest with things of high danger and rates of imminent death. The idea of death itself had always been a topic of amusement and rather than fearing it as most individuals do, she welcomes it and prays that one day death meets her in an untimely manner during a heated battle or some form of dangerous endeavor.
Ghost is wild, out of control and due to the failure in some aspects by her parents she does not conform easily to authority especially those found undeserving; she would best be suited in positions of leadership as she finds following rules and orders to be mundane and of little value or asset to her and her devious agendas. The mischief that shines brightly in her blood-soaked eyes might unintentionally lead someone to believe her to be outgoing and friendly; Ghost was certainly not outgoing in any form of friendly mannerisms. Some would say that any form of kindness has permanently escaped her grasp only to be replaced with an indisputable rage. This rage has kept her alive and safe; in this rage she has found a strength that quite often attracts those in need of true and devout leadership. She is what is defined as a natural born alpha; those to whom she pledges her undying loyalties will be without disappointment for this woman lives to surprise even herself.
Her temper is as unpredictable as wildfire. It does not take much to get a rise out of Ghost and whilst most others do not operate well when angry, she is at her best. This wicked creature lives and breathes anger for she has much to be angry about and many reasons to feel an unsuppressed sense of hatred. She is clever, snide, competitive and without pity. Though it would seem that she is completely void of compassion it simply takes a kindred soul to discovered the warmth harbored within her murderous soul. Not only is she the most honest individual one will come across, her loyalty is without question, her spirit cannot be matched and the love that she is capable of providing is unwavering. If one should take the time to get to know her, they may find themselves cast within the spells of her soul and quickly subject to a love for her that is heard of only in stories.
This mysterious vixen, ethereal, unique and bewitching cannot simply be explained with a few paragraphs of words. She is more than what meets the eyes; she is excitement, she is hunger, she is pain and above all else she is chaos. The type of chaos that is worthy of praise for she is enticing, dark, light, devious, compassionate – she is not a force to be wrecked with for while one can have no better friend they may also find there is no greater enemy.
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history
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The Deadfell's are amongst the oldest and most notorious families that still live in the vast world of Adymeria. Their bloodline originated from that of the first wolves. The first wolves were the first created by the gods and while there were several bloodlines created, the Deadfell's were created of royal blood and so remain one of three royal families created from the blood of the first wolves. Over time these ancient bloodlines have been wiped out; as in any civilization there is always someone working to better their family and the easiest and quickest way to do this is to remove those of royalty from the picture and replace them. Many have been successful at there personal agenda's, but all have failed when attempting to take down those named Deadfell.
Deadfell's are not known for their weaknesses, in fact it is told in many stories that they had none, and many believe the reason why is that when they were created they were favored by the gods. In ancient folklore the Deadfell's are considered the children of the gods; many of them had powers and all of them were fierce and built to last. Many responsibilities come with being a Deadfell and whilst they were perhaps the most feared and respected of the first bloodlines, one thing remained of utmost importance and this single moral has withstood the test of time and still runs as deep and as strongly in the veins of all currently living Deadfell's; the bonds of family.
It is known that if an individual of another family dared to take on one member of the Deadfell's they would be met with the force of the entire family and the consequences would be dire. Many wars have been started in the wake of incidents that have arisen between a member of the Deadfell bloodline and an individual from another family. There is nothing greater than a single, working family unit with nothing but love and devotion to one another. It is because of such strong family values that this bloodline still exists today.
Overtime members of the Deadfell bloodline have been hunted and executed for crimes committed in the past and simply because they are of royal creation. What crimes? Deadfell's are murderous, viking-like individuals who fear nothing and express no other emotion than anger or hatred. Feelings of passion or love are felt only for family members or those lucky enough to claim their hearts. In the world today there is simply no room for creatures as wicked and cruel as the Deadfell's are rumored to be and so they have been depleted and now only a handful exists.
Perhaps one of the most memorable of the Deadfell bloodline is Azazil “The Black” Deadfell. Azazil was known particularly well for his battle antics and cruelty in the field of battle. This man was perhaps the most violent of the bloodline and has claimed more than one hundred lives, severing their heads and mounting them within the trees surrounding their territory. The skulls of the enemies he's slain are said to still linger within the trees surrounding the old, Deadfell territory and the souls of the dead are rumored to haunt these woods to this day. Azazil was known as the Black for he was the only one since the creation of the Deadfell bloodline to have a pelt as black as night; all Deadfell's are of stark white coloration and until his eldest son, Naterík Deadfell was born, he had been the only one to adorn such a cloak.
Naterík is the oldest son and one of seven children born to Azazil “the Black” Deadfell and Nyx Nightingale. Seven more Deadfell's to walk the earth, each of them different and unique in many ways. All of them possessed a gift specific to their personalities and all of them are white except for Naterík. This young generation of Deadfell's consisted of four brothers and three sisters; the oldest of the girls is Ghost, who is also the second born after Naterík.
More to come!
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