Thrayse

Title: Thrayse
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LithaHellstormm

Rank：Unskilled
Score：113
Posts：113
From：USA
Register：01/17/2009 11:30 PM

Date Posted：01/21/2009 12:06 AMCopy HTML

Name: Thrayse

Age: 102 {appears in her late teens}

Race/Breed: Vampyre

Height: 5ft 5ins

Weight: 110lbs

Hair Colour & Style: Raven Black and curly, reacing almost to her rear

Eye Colour: Pale Hazel

Weapons: Deceit {a blade of her own design that when twisted correctly at the hilt becomes two katana-like blades that have been rumoured to be able to cut through both iron and stone}, several small throwing blades held in a flat pouch.

General Description:

Her build is slight, but strong and very feminine, which is deceiving to the eye. Thrayse carries herself well and tends to keep a cool distant approach. Her eyes, despite their colour are very cold and it has been known she can give someone a case of shivers with a simple look. She tends to wear clothing that is practical most of the time, leather trousers and a shirt that keeps her covered, but on occasion she will wear a dress and be feminine. Her skin is littered with tattooes, mostly down her back and shoulder and down her left arm. She also carries one that runs the length of her collar bone. She also has many piercings and has many silver studs embedded within her skin. These are leftovers from her life in slavery, but she holds no shame about them and can be seen showing them off when she has the fancy. Thrayse is very beautiful, but also very deadly. She carries a blade of her own fashioning that she calls Deceit. Her attitude is cold for the most part and it takes a lot for her to speak openly and hold a conversation. It takes a quick wit to get anything but a glare from her and a conversation is almost impossible. Thrayse carries a few scars, but nothing major. The appear as small scratches perhaps and that is about all. She is slow to anger, but is quick to the calm and prefers to remain that way, it is easier to kill with a clear mind not blurred and distorted by anger. She prefers to remain barefoot and hates having to wear boots or shoes for anything.

History: Thrayse was born into slavery. Her mother was one of the Master's harem, so it was obvious where she came from. The Master took little interest in her at first and her mother took even less. She drank herself to death by the time Thrayse was two years old. She learned quickly and by the time she was four, she could read, write and speak in several different languages. When she turned ten, the Master began to take a noticeable interest in her. He wasn't an old man by looks, despite him being in his early sixties. Her Master and father was Baron Dimmitri Shold, a wealthy business man dealing in weapons, land and slaves, so Thrayse took an interest in these things also. The other harem women took an instant dislike to this and often caused the girl trouble to gain the Master's affections once more. Despite this, Thrayse rose in her standings and soon became his favourite. At twelve, Shold decided to admit her heritage and she was welcomed into the fold as his legal daughter and his heir, despite having many sons from his harem. This caused uproar in the harem ranks and two of the women, believing their sons should be in Thrayse's place plotted to kill the Master and Thrayse. The Master was killed, but Thrayse avoided them and ran away, saving her own life. Thrayse had just turned thirteen.

Alone and defenseless, Thrayse soon found herself in the slave stocks and sold to another Master, but this one was cruel and sadistic. He treated her very badly and Thrayse was broken. Her beauty was her only saving grace and the Master often showed her off to his friends. When she turned fifteen, she was decided old enough to understand the rules of love and so joined the Master's harem. To enhance her beauty by his culture, he had her tattoed liberally down her back and arm and had her skin pierced in several places. The finishing piece was jewelled piece of silver that was melted onto her forehead and shaped. A chain was then run from the base of that to her ear where it linked all the piercings there. Thrayse never screamed during this process and never uttered a word to either her Master or anyone else. A few long years later, the Master died mysteriously while sleeping with Thrayse and she escaped the home covered in blood.

Very little was seen of Thrayse until a few years later when she appeared in a trading town, working for a blacksmith near the docks. She was a serving wench and general cleaner for him, but he saw her talent for desiging weaponry and battle skills and so taught her the art of steel. His name was Brannan. He made her a blade, a katana of sorts from one of her designs which became known as Deceit and she learned quickly how to use it with deadly force. The blacksmith was not a young man by many standards and Thrayse was still only seventeen, but for some unknown reason, he declared he was in love with her and they married a short time later. She bore him a son that same year, which they named Dimmitri after her father.

Their happiness was short lived though as while working on the anvil one night, Brannan was stabbed in the back and the baby Dimmitri suffocated in his crib. Thrayse was also injured, but survived only to fall into the hands of the instigator of the murders. He was a vampyre by the name of Rendam and wanted Thrayse for himself. Injured and deep in grief of losing her husband and son, she went without a fuss and after a few months, she was turned by the vampyre aged eighteen. For almost sixty years, she remained Rendam's pet and lover, but never got over her grief of losing Brannan and Dimmitri.

Then, one day, Rendam never returned from a hunt and Thrayse found herself alone once again. She left his home as quickly as possible and went travelling the world. Her cold attitude, grown from her life thus far ensured most stayed away from her and she killed any other who stepped in her way. She had no goal for herself, no reason to still be alive until she heard of a place that welcomed the dead of heart and soul..............

Here's a riddle: When is a croquet mallet like a billy club? I'll tell you: Whenever you want it to be. When you scream it sounds like a lullaby There's no reality Just this world of illusion.