Fantasy 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐘. | 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑘.

A product of mother nature, Jude has no true familial birth, and therefore has no true biological parents. But, the woman she considered her mother was the one who dragged her out of the molten lava, in the boiling depths of the volcanoes of Chile. Carved by the gods out of volcanic rock and magma, the ash and fire turned to strands of thick hair eventually, and the jagged rock was shaped into brown skin, and thus became Jude. Her mother named her Juandalynn, but when she had gone to live her life with her father in America, the frustration of people not learning to pronounce her name birthed her preferred name, Jude. Her full name is Juandalynn Ana Rivera-Carvajal.

The story of her parents was as such; a Cuban volcanologist, photographing and studying volcanic activity in Chile, happened to stumble upon and photograph local cherufes. The man was fascinated by the creatures who would very rarely pull themselves out of the magma pools and volcanoes, unsure of what he was seeing, and was approached by Jude's mother. The two were enamored by each other, a kind of naive and infatuated love, and when Jude was birthed from the lava, her father made frequent trips out to Chile to visit the two. Eventually, though, the unfortunate romance between her parents was cut off, as her father's visits to the tiny region where her mother lived were a subject of interest to the locals. Her mother was hunted and killed when Jude was approximately 14 years old. And so, her father took her with him, and Jude continued the rest of her life in America.

"i am not a creature that was born,"

While her father was Cuban, because of his scientific work, he lived and raised Jude in varying cities across the US. Jude was unable to live in colder weather conditions, unfortunately. At first, they had gone to New York City, but the winters left Jude exhaling pillars of smoke and soot as her fiery core smoldered out slowly, and it was harder and harder to find her a warm place to live. After a year and a half of frustration, culture shock and Jude's stubbornness to change, they subsequently moved out more west. They tried living in California, upon the west coast, but Jude couldn't enjoy the beaches and too-perfect weather. Being so close to water at all times scared her. Eventually, they landed in a sun-bleached desert town in the boons of Arizona. Jude's childhood was somewhat rough - she had the appearance of a young teenager, but had to go through the trouble of learning as much as she could of information from pre-k to high school. English came somewhat easy, growing up in an English speaking environment, but Jude's Spanish is extremely fluent.


The girl faced identity issues for much of her youth in America, not only with the knowledge of being so inherently different, but because Americans made everything so damn complicated. She considers herself half-Chilean and half-Cuban purely because of her parents. She also faces problems with anxiety and paranoia, caused after witnessing the death of her mother. The deep-seated issues of fear because of her mom manifested into anger issues, and so Jude struggled a lot as she managed through a couple of years of American middle and high school. Being a cherufe didn't make her life any easier either. Emotional flare-ups came with burnt school desks, piles of ash that were once homework and notes, and on one awful occasion, the west wing of a school being reduced to blackened soot. Teenage angst mixed with fire equaled a sucky youth.

Jude's relationship with her father was strained, but not entirely unhealthy. She just wished he had been around longer. Sadly enough, her lifespan is longer than normal humans, and the devastation of her mother's death was then added on with her father's death. He had always been caring and protective, but she could see how she wore him down over the years. Raising a kid wasn't easy, but raising what was essentially a fiery lava entity in the form of a teenage girl was something else entirely. At first, Jude had blamed him for her mom's death, but his love and genuine care for her soon changed her thoughts on the subject. She was somehow both very dependent on him, and completely independent and wanted to be her own person. Without him, Jude would have either stayed to live in the magma pools with the rest of her kind, and eventually been hunted. But, she wanted to be her own person and didn't like the idea of relying on one person so much in her life. Because of this, Jude went through her 'emo' phase, and that eventually turned into the grunge-y hybrid that she is now. Her father kept them afloat through teaching; he had abandoned his career as a volcanologist, and instead taught college classes about environmental science and similar subjects.


When her father died was when Jude felt true devastation for the second time in her life. She felt as if she was withering, the fire inside being stamped and smoldered out, anger and anguish being exhaled along with soot as she sat crying in her burning home. When Jude came to, she laid under blackened wooden beams and debris, calm and burnt out. She knew she had to return home. By the time the firefighters got to the house, she had used whatever money her father left for her to book a flight to South America. Despair boiled in her gut as the girl made the trek into the mountains for the first time in decades. Jude thought of her mother, and every barefoot step left the ground charred. When she reached the summit of the volcano, her clothes slowly flittered away into ash from the pure heat, and she flung herself into the mouth of the Earth. The heat was comforting, and her kind greeted her eagerly, but Jude truly felt lost in that moment. When she surfaced from a magma pool, a slightly burnt brochure for Our Lady Wollstonecraft Academy lay on the black rock nearby.

Now, for the last three and a half years, Jude has resided at Wollstonecraft but continues to isolate herself for the most part because of her anger issues and volatile powers. On-campus therapy sessions and her own drive prove that Jude is trying to best to make a good life for themself, but it's proven difficult due to trauma and general social anxiety. She actively enjoys alternative rock music, something she picked up while living in the States, and is very into the punk scene and older music. She has taken up learning the bass guitar, and tries to write songs for a band she hopes to create one day. Music is what she uses to cope, most of the time, but the girl also enjoys movies, literature discovered through her ELA courses, and is currently trying her hand at sports. She enjoys playing soccer casually, but couldn't make it on the team due to her aggressiveness when it came to competition.

family.

wip

"soul from a mire,"

wip


wip

family.

Marianne was born to a small community just outside of Golsar. Nestled in the mountains, she was born cold and raised cold. Dark haired and fair skinned, Marianne was the picture perfect recreation of her grandmother, a trait that her family held her to in the eyes of the rest of their community. There was an odd kinship to the girl and her dead grandmother, accented by faded portraits that lined their small home. She was the last child born in their village before the great slaughter.

Her father was a farmer, who hopped on the truck with the other men in town, to an expansive plot they held about twenty miles from the village. The rest of the village, including Marianne's various siblings, cultivated their care for each other. Cold winters brought warm hands and warm hearths, learning how to thread a needle and cook potato pancakes and rouladen for the holidays. To Marianne, there was nothing wrong with the way they lived. Life was good, the people were good, and she always had a full belly and a loved heart.

What was not known to most, including the child they protected, was that the village had essentially cut a deal to keep their plotted land fertile and populous. Whether this individual that they dealt with was a demon, a devil, or a witch with no heart, they did not know. They called him Herr M, and that was the end of it. Their payment for success? The life of the youngest child of the village, every ten years. These were quick and easy deals to most. By then most of the parents in the village had come to terms with it, and used their newfound wealth to send their eldest children out of the country for their protection. They always came back, however. They were always loyal to Herr.

Marianne's mother, however, in the resemblance that her daughter bore to her own mother, had decided long before Marianne's tenth birthday that she would not sacrifice her daughter. They tried for years to bear another child, but the effort was fruitless. Although the land they sowed was ripe, her womb was not. Every year was a ticking clock to that tenth birthday, but her mother was prepared.

"a deal made, a promise broken,"

The day came: her mother refused to turn her daughter over. Herr M, meeting in the moonlight, did not seem upset by this as was figured. He simply nodded, turned into the shadows, and was not seen again.

Darkness came over that village, however. By the next day, when the men went to the farm, they found it all shriveled up. The crops were dry, dead and withered away. Without any staples for that harvest, their stores ran short into the winter. It was a particularly cold one, and a hungry one.

The first few years with their wasted crops and short supplies were not as awful as they became. Families came together, sharing resources. With low funds, many had to move to Golsar in order to bring supplies and funds back to the village. The more stubborn, traditionalist ones preferred to stay and tough it out. While Marianne's family was somewhere in the middle, it was that third winter that her mother caught pneumonia and died. Those who cursed her for sparing Marianne spat on her grave, ostracizing the rest of the family.

The next years got harder. Everything bad seemed to happen all at once. Then, after what was a decade of living in the hellspace, the slaughter began. By some ill-fortune, a troupe of bandits had made their way into the mountain; and in getting lost they wandered onto Steine. Finding a somewhat functional, living town of people, they did what bad people do: they wormed their way in. How they managed to dispatch of a dying village came from the formidable people fleeing to find work elsewhere, life elsewhere, or dying from a lack of nutrition. A deal with a similar man, an Herr M, had however given them the strength and resources needed.

Loyal to Herr M, unlike the village, they had full intentions to sacrifice the people there for their personal gain. Greed and a lust for the greatness in life (and a way off the damned mountain), led them to count and number every victim they'd sacrifice. What they didn't count, however, was the girl who hid in the church closet.

The town burned, and every soul taken that day. All except one.

CW: Animal Death

When Annie woke up, she knew she wasn't herself. The ash that coloured the ground she thought to be snow, and the burial that she dug herself out of was the burnt remains of the village church. The first thing she noticed, however, was the lack of cold. She had no clothes; naked as sin and as pale as death. She noted that the colour in her hair had been taken, and the warmth to her flesh removed. It was a traumatic event, and she spent several hours trying to cry as she hobbled her way through the burnt ashes of the town.

By midnight the wolves came. She was attacked by them on her way down the mountain, leaving her knocked out and gouged by their claws and teeth. There was no blood in her, however, and no feast to be had. When she woke up again, she continued to move, albeit much slower from cold and injury. Halfway down the mountainside, she came across the corpse of a wolf. A runt who'd snapped its neck after falling down the slope. Annie could not explain the urge within her, but she ran her purple fingers over the frozen flesh and did her damn best to eat. She was hungry, sluggish and hurt.

Little by little she ate, until she had managed to somewhat fill herself. She continued down, arriving at Golsar. Taken in immediately, though not before being mistaken as a ghost, she was rescued by a family that had spied her from their backyard. Still unknowing to her condition, but bound by the soul she still kept, Annie did not eat her new family. Her memory was all but gone, a thing to be returned overtime, save for the faces of the men that killed her and her village.

She feasted on raw meat, uncooked and dripping, when no one was looking. Regular food made her ill beyond belief, vomiting a black wretch like some spawn from hell. Once she had some semblance of reason and sense to her surroundings and location, she slipped away from the family in the night. Stealing clothes, some money and a map, she made her way deeper into town.

Arriving at a library was her first source of answers. No one was there to guide her about her condition, so she made do to find out herself. Sleeping behind the library she returned everyday until she could find her answers.

She roamed, as well. Staying in one place was not safe for her, and she had one vendetta in mind: her killers. It motivated her, moved her with some supernatural passion across the country. She floated where she could. Arriving in some small town in France, she managed to spend some time there. By now she'd spent almost another twenty years, wandering with no ability to cross the borders. Part of her knew that they were somewhere else, across the great oceans, but with no identity and no papers, she was trapped in European soil. Odd jobs and isolated villages managed to keep her, though at one point she did try to live in one of the bigger cities. It was all too much, and very quickly Annie fled back to the countryside.

In a fit of rage, Annie attacked the woman she was staying with. Consumed with the frustration of a lost soul, the anger of an undead killer, and the sadness of someone so utterly alone, she very nearly sunk her teeth into the woman's neck and ate. She could taste it even when she watched the woman plead and cry. Annie wanted it all to be over, every drop of humanity that kept her from mindlessly tearing through the streets for the men who killed her. Before she could do anything drastic, however, a brochure fluttered through the window. Annie almost hadn't noticed it at first but then...

The answer was simple. She had nowhere to go otherwise.

family.