bad wolf
do you love my insides? the parts you canโt see?
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requisite.
[div class=tag]name
Evangeline Phoebe Matsouka
[div class=tag]nickname
Eva
[div class=tag]age
Though she's been around for 108 years, she is eternally 17 years old.
[div class=tag]gender
Female
[div class=tag]sexuality
Bicurious, she hasn't given relationships much thought.
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[div class=tag]date of birth
She was born in March 1912 and died November 1929.
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[div class=tag]place of birth
Verona, Italy
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[div class=tag]ethnicity
Itallian
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appearance.
[div class=tag]height
5' 9"
[div class=tag]build
Eva was dead and buried far longer than she's ever been alive and walking. That's seen clearly in the thinness of her figure, the lack of any fat or muscle to round out sharply defined edges. She's an empty husk supported by bone and little else, spindly and sick. Though it looks as though she'd snap in two at the slightest touch, her species' durability provides her more strength than what's initially perceived.
[div class=tag]hair
Her hair is brown and frizzy, a pain to comb through and therefore left alone. It hangs about her shoulders like a mane, tangled curls full of split ends.
[div class=tag]eyes
They are a dull blue color, slightly clouded and darkly shadowed.
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[div class=tag]skin
It's unbelievably pale and cold. She hasn't seen the sun since before she died.
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[div class=tag]distinguishing features
She has deeply sunken eyes and a startlingly thin build.
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[div class=tag]wardrobe
She wears her school uniform, not by choice but because she's no real urge to change clothes even if she had the choice. She doesn't have to think about adopting a style or pleasing anyone, being superficial or fake by putting on some kind of costume. It's plain and simple and given to her. She doesn't want to wear anything else.
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[div class=tag]looks like
Ona Morgan
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attributes.
[div class=tag]personality
Eva is aloof and private. She's never known small talk and would rather limit conversation to the bear minimum. If she can answer someone with a word, she will. She studies people as if trying to understand some profound mystery, absolutely entertained by their smallest behaviors. If they don't provide her any amusement, she might try to incite some kind of reaction through sudden and bizarre action. If they don't react in a way she deems interesting, she'll abandon them entirely.
She is indifferent to a lot around the school, never involving herself for too long in any one thing. If she does wind up staying, it's mostly out of sheer boredom. In all actuality, she'd rather take a backseat and respond to things in her own time without any pressure. She's observant and careful and seldom ever involved.
She has violent outbursts that can be very destructive. Though they're mostly triggered by something, it more often than not goes unnoticed due to the absence of any real indicators. She'll start physical fights she knows she can't win without provocation. She wants a distraction and mostly does so by challenging someone she's sure will fight back. Knock her down and bloody her teeth and she'll probably smile. She wants bruises she can press on and feel days after, something to focus on that is purely physical rather than emotional.
She is indifferent to a lot around the school, never involving herself for too long in any one thing. If she does wind up staying, it's mostly out of sheer boredom. In all actuality, she'd rather take a backseat and respond to things in her own time without any pressure. She's observant and careful and seldom ever involved.
She has violent outbursts that can be very destructive. Though they're mostly triggered by something, it more often than not goes unnoticed due to the absence of any real indicators. She'll start physical fights she knows she can't win without provocation. She wants a distraction and mostly does so by challenging someone she's sure will fight back. Knock her down and bloody her teeth and she'll probably smile. She wants bruises she can press on and feel days after, something to focus on that is purely physical rather than emotional.
[div class=tag]+ traits
observant, clever, patient, curious
[div class=tag]- traits
apathetic, distracted, unpredictable, dismissive
[div class=tag]alignment
a bit undetermined. chaotic neutral if necessary.
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[div class=tag]likes
the dark, being outside in the dead of night, cool breezes, soft music, warmth of any kind
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[div class=tag]dislikes
the quiet, staying still for long periods, being told what to do, a physical sense of pressure(i.e. layered clothes, blankets), water
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[div class=tag]fears
Eva is claustrophobic. She will not be put in a corner or restrained. She's constantly on her toes and pacing, moving about somehow.
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[div class=tag]ailments
Eva suffers from sever bouts of fatigue mostly due to being starved. She's adapting to a new diet, putting on weight and regaining her strength after years of being underground. If left to her own vices, she'd sleep endlessly. She also has some trouble seeing clearly. It's something she can work around given her keen sense of smell, but her sight is worsened further by bright or flashing lights. PTSD and moments of sever anxiety are also conditions she is currently learning to take hold of and understand.
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[div class=tag]coursework
She studies what she can but mostly has trouble sitting still and committing to any coursework. Her schedule is tentative and always changing. More often then not, she's skipping class.
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[div class=tag]dormitory
Eva resides in the Artume dormitory.
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species information.
[div class=tag]species explanation
She is a creature with many names and no proper explanation. There is a lore and a belief but nothing absolutely concrete. In Italy she is referred to as vrykolakas, an undead creature which feasts itself on the flesh of men. They are not turned by others of their kind but by the life they led prior to their death or by the circumstances of their death. Eva, herself, was turned because she was not buried in consecrated ground. When these creature are reborn, they come back to haunt and prey upon the living. There is a belief that they wander the streets at night knocking on doors. If there is no reply, they leave the house alone. If someone answers, the vrykolakas attacks them.
[div class=tag]species rules
- Though they are mostly vampiric in nature, vrykolakas also carry similar characteristics to werewolves and zombies. This is one of the reasons they are harder to define than most creatures.
- They eat human flesh rather than drinking just the blood of their victim. They favor human livers.
- They have enhanced strength and senses. Though, this is weakened significantly if they do not feed often enough.
- They have aversions to sunlight and silver. They burn if exposed to sunlight and can be killed by silver poisoning. They can also be killed by cremation, beheading, or exorcism.
[div class=tag]extra
Though she is still stronger than your average human, Eva is weaker than most vrykolakas due to the fact that she was buried and unable to feed.
history.
Eva does not know a time before her death. Those memories blur together like watercolor, becoming something totally abstract and foreign. She does not wish to know it, to unpack everything so that she can put it on full display. She'd rather it be a mystery. She'd rather not know what it meant to her, what she lost and can no longer properly feel for. It's a shadow which looms over her, which shows itself in small pieces, a shattered bit of glass which cuts her to the core every time she dares disturb it. It's family and being married, deceit and murder. There are reasons she woke up wrapped in sheets and buried by dirt, reasons she's fine being ignorant to.
When she did awake, she could not breathe, and though she did not need to she still felt the desire, the habit to pull in a long and desperate breath. There was a tremendous weight on her body, forcing her down. Unable to move, she'd panic and try wailing into the cloth around her face and the soil over her head. It made no sound. Her cries went unheard and she was left where she was buried. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years. She still did not move and she forgot how to call for help.
She was a newborn and weak. Hunger consumed her and she had nothing to satiate it with. She became something entirely inhuman, thoughtless and void. In time, it was not her who freed herself but the land which had kept her prisoner. Rainwater and construction, the erosion of dirt as it fell away. Even as her body was pulled free, she did not move. They brought her to a morgue and she still lay dead. It wasn't till she lay alone in the dark that she moved, small at first till she could handle the task of sitting straight. When she did she cried and she wailed to no one but those cold corpses which occupied the space around her.
She hid there in the dark feeling her way around till her hands met cold, stiff flesh and for the first time in a long time she made herself feel full. Day came, the mortician returned and they found each other. It was no easy feat for either of them but, eventually, the mortician helped her upstairs and into a chair aside a table. Her brochure for Wollstonecraft lay atop of it.
When she did awake, she could not breathe, and though she did not need to she still felt the desire, the habit to pull in a long and desperate breath. There was a tremendous weight on her body, forcing her down. Unable to move, she'd panic and try wailing into the cloth around her face and the soil over her head. It made no sound. Her cries went unheard and she was left where she was buried. Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, months to years. She still did not move and she forgot how to call for help.
She was a newborn and weak. Hunger consumed her and she had nothing to satiate it with. She became something entirely inhuman, thoughtless and void. In time, it was not her who freed herself but the land which had kept her prisoner. Rainwater and construction, the erosion of dirt as it fell away. Even as her body was pulled free, she did not move. They brought her to a morgue and she still lay dead. It wasn't till she lay alone in the dark that she moved, small at first till she could handle the task of sitting straight. When she did she cried and she wailed to no one but those cold corpses which occupied the space around her.
She hid there in the dark feeling her way around till her hands met cold, stiff flesh and for the first time in a long time she made herself feel full. Day came, the mortician returned and they found each other. It was no easy feat for either of them but, eventually, the mortician helped her upstairs and into a chair aside a table. Her brochure for Wollstonecraft lay atop of it.
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