Kestryll Heart

[aether]

†Kestryll - Heart†

†Kess†

†General Information†

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Full Name: Kestryll Heart.
Nicknames: Kess.
Gender: Female.
Age: Twenty-one.
Race: Human.
Orentation: Heterosexual.
Health Problems: Narcissistic Personality Disorder. It's not officially diagnosed but you can pretty much tell.

†Personality†

Basic Personality: Kestryll has often been described as a nasty piece of work, and it’s not difficult to see why. She’s a cunning, vindictive, manipulating woman who will all too willingly exterminate her enemies and even the few allies she has in order to get what she wants. Kestryll is an ambitious woman, with a mind filled with spiteful thoughts, but she hides this so spectacularly that at first glance she might appear to be a simple technician, or a woman who takes a quiet pride and contentment in her job.

Because Kestryll is, first and foremost, an academic genius. No doubt about it. In more recent years she has trained her body to achieve optimum physical performance, but that has only been in the latter years of her life. Ever since childhood, however, Kestryll was gifted with a brilliant mind. In her adolescent years she was an accomplished historian and politician, with the additions of advanced maths, mechanics, electricity, physics, chemistry, and biology under her belt with a tongue that spoke flawless grammatical English. Kestryll was simply given one of those accomplished, adept minds, and she’s pushed her mental capabilities harder than any of her teachers at primary school could have imagined.

There’s just one thing. Kestryll is academically superior, and she knows this. Of course, constantly pointing out other people’s inferiority in comparison to her hasn’t given her a wide circle of friends. She doesn’t need friends, however. She has ambition. Once upon a time she may have wanted to be a ballerina, but in recent times Kess’ mind has lingered on various achievements, like bringing down the Catholic Church, becoming Secretary-General of the United Nations, or hell, achieving any kind of position that would grant her a higher power and authority over others is good for her.

She is one twisted little actress, who can dominate her face and can paint emotions as easily as she lies. She can flick from gracious, courteous and urbane, to blunt, vicious and lethal. Affecting tears, laughter and innocence isn't a challenge, but merely something she does when she has to.
Thus, she adapts well to a variety of situations. When dealing in a professional environment she tames herself to be respectful and civil, playing the part of the perfect adult, although usually only with her own gains in mind. She is mildly rebellious otherwise, usually adhering to the rules yet questioning all of them and disregarding those she finds trivial.

As somewhat of a narcissist, Kestryll also has a superiority complex, and feels that she is better then most women, and so treats other females with cold indifference, whereas she would be merely prickly and competitive towards men. She is a relentless plotter, and her mind is always scheming, always thinking of a hundred different outcomes to the same situation. She hopes for the best, plans for the worst. Most of the time, her plans don’t go as she’d like them to, but that doesn’t stop her from doing it anyway.



Likes:

• Flaunting the skills that make her better than others.
  
• Beating anyone in competition.
  
• Chances to be sarcastic.
  
• Chances to poke fun at people.
  
• Picking out other people's flaws, weaknesses and mistakes.
  
• Winning arguments.
  
• Using her powers of persuasion.
  
• Mirrors, reflections and shiny, expensive things.
  
• Alcohol.
  
• Ordering people around.
  
• Beautifully tailored clothing.
  
• Attention to detail.
  
• Fine art, theatre, music, and literature.
  
• Spending money on unnecessary luxuries.

Hates:

• Losing.
  
• Being contradicted or argued with.
  
• Men with over-inflated egos.
  
• Other women.
  
• In fact, she doesn't like people in general.
  
• Being underestimated, but at least then she gets a chance to kick their doubting butt.
  
• Not being in control.
  
• Ruining a perfectly good item of clothing.
  
• People who she deems a threat to her.
  
• Being protected, supervised or mollycoddled. She's perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
  
• Being bested by someone she considers inferior to her.

Talents:

• Ability to suss out everyone else while still keeping her own cards close to her chest. If she wants to seem like a well-educated, polite and good-intentioned young woman, that’s exactly what she’ll appear to be.
  
• Technological capability.
  
• Acting and lying.
  
• Simply putting this - her genius-level intelligence. Kestryll is what a child prodigy looks like in adulthood. She might not be Immortal or have special powers, but she's got a flipping high IQ.
  
• Biofeedback. She can stop herself from feeling, fatigue, hunger, or pain, as well as exerting control over her heart rate and brain functions. This she uses very rarely, however. Just because she can stop her desires to rest and eat, does not mean that she doesn't need to, and she can easily pass out from lack of rest, food, or from ignoring an injury. Similarly, she's never lowered her pulse rate or brain activity, simply because of the dangers associated with cardiac arrest and comatose.
  
• Her fighting ability. Even without weaponry, Kess' agility and concealed strength means that she's potentially a force to be reckoned with.
  
• Her most extraordinary talent is her reading ability, and Kestryll is more accurate than any lie detector to date. But it’s more than telling truth from lies. She can watch someone and tell the kind of person they are, what they intend to do, when followed she can pick out her stalker in a crowd full of people. She doesn’t know how, but she just knows. When asked how she does it, Kess finds herself giving different answers in different situations. Perhaps a tremble in the voice, or a tone of voice that was either too assertively smooth and insouciant. Something around the mouth, a tremor in the chin, something around the eyes. There was always something. She’s like a poker player who innately knows everybody’s tell when they bluff, but she doesn’t even try.
  Maybe she just has a skill with picking out micro expressions. Sometimes she even wondered whether her gift wasn't so much as a capacity as an incapacity: she wasn't able not to see. Most people filter what they see when they look at someone's face: they operate by the rule of interference-to-the-best-explanation, meaning that whatever doesn't sync with the explanation that makes the most sense to them they ignore. Kess lacks the ability to tune out with what does not sync.

Habits:

• As one could probably tell from her physical appearance, Kestryll is quite obsessed with herself. She is one of those vain girls who gaze endlessly at their own reflection, and no matter where she catches a glimpse of herself, she’ll stop and admire herself: a lake, a spoon, a window, an enemy’s knife. Not a good habit to be in.
  
• Paranoia. In Kestryll's own opinion, she was born with talents and intelligence that many people would give both their arms to posess. It seems only natural, therefore, that others are jealous of her and covet what she has. In order to protect herself, Kestryll has become quite paranoid, especially over matters concerning her personal safety.
  
• Narcissism... Not only does she put herself above all others, at all times, and at all costs, she sees herself as simply better than anyone else, which makes her distant, aloof and supercilious as she feels she is superior to practically everyone else around her. No one could possibly be prettier than her! And no one could be smarter, or faster, or better at anything than she is. It is just impossible in her mind.
  
• Generally tends to forget who she's talking to, and addresses everyone around her like a moron.
  
• Frowns when she thinks. In other words, she's nearly always scowling.

†Appearance:†

Skin Color: Her alabaster skin is much fairer than what’s usually natural, as many nights spent under the moon have left her skin fair and bleached milky, like creamy porcelain, something she owes to her mother’s North Alaskan lineage.

Hair Color: Long and ebony brown, her hair seems to be black most of the time, although we all know there is no such colour for hair. Intensely dark, it is naturally straight, and falls to her the base of her shoulder blades in loose waves down to her mid-back, messy and beautiful, untamed and windswept. At times, it does get in the way, causing her to curse it and threaten to hack it all off. She has only kept this promise once.

Eye Color: Her eyes are large, almond and an alluring mix of silver and frost blue, wide and glittering in the light. Her irises are home to the effulgent twists of blue steel that burn with intelligence. These eyes of hers never shed tears, though when angered can sometimes look black, framed by screens of obnoxiously long, dark lashes.

Build: Kess is quite tall in comparison to most women, standing at five foot seven, with a fairly ectomorphic frame. She is muscular, but not overly so, more in the lean muscle way, and she makes sure to keep herself thin enough to still be considered attractive, but there are times when it is nice to have a bit of muscle on your side. One rarely expects a pretty girl to have biceps. Lithe, slim, and relatively curvaceous, her frame bears strong shoulders and broad hips, rippled with deceptive muscle hidden by her curves. Her slight frame is surprisingly strong, built with tough sinew and dense muscle. She is athletic if not slender and well endowed if not voluptuous, though neither stick-like nor fleshy.

Piercing/Scars/Tattoos: Apart from a piercing in each ear lobe, Kess has made damn sure that she keeps her complexion clear and her skin unmarked over the years. She has never had chickenpox, so suffers no scarring on her face. Due to the extreme care taken, she has no scars from shaving cuts on her legs, and heaven forbid she ever let a tattooist's needle anywhere near her skin.

Choice of Clothing: Huh. Well, it largely depends on what she's doing. Kess does love to look beautiful, but isn't about to conform to the social norm of beauty by bleaching her hair blond or tanning her skin with chemicals. Instead, she adorns herself in quality fabrics and smart styles, often wearing blouses and tailored trousers when working, preferring dark hues and monochrome in her wardrobe, as it works very well against her ivory flesh.

Other: The first and perhaps most striking feature of Kestryll is her face. They often say that beauty is deceiving, and perhaps it is. Though, it just depends on who lies beneath the mask... but in Kestryll’s case, one could say that is most certainly is. She has a heart shaped face with a strong jaw line and a straight nose. Setting off her face are her high cheekbones and full lips, which pull her together in quite the lovely package. Of course, that is only on the outside.

†History:†

History: At the beginning of every tale, it is customary to start with the origins of the person in question, is it not? Parents, origins, date and place of birth, perhaps? Well, in this aspect, Kestryll's life story is not like everyone else's.

The events that swayed Kess’ life had nothing to do with her. Instead, they were to do with a man named Leonardo Carter, a man who, in his forties with one divorce, a dead ex-wife and child, felt he had too much to stand for, too much that he couldn’t not pass on.
Leo had been born to a long line of businessmen – one of those old wealthy families you hear about. He worked amongst Werewolves and Vampires, running the arms trade business that had been handed to him from older generations. Leo had been hired into the line of work by his father, who had been hired by his father, who had in turn... you get the picture. Either way, Leo had suffered a messy divorce and had only just heard of the assassination attack on his wife’s family. His wife and her new husband had been found dead, along with his only son. Leo knew it was far too late to go out and find another wife, have another child, and carry on the tradition. In any case, it would have been inconsiderate to start a new family with only these goals in mind. However, Leo knew that his death would mean the death of the business carried by every Carter ancestor, and that would have been the worst of all. So, he turned to adoption.

---

Kestryll’s mother had been bitten by a Vampire. Bryony had staggered home, to where her father waited, with Kestryll asleep upstairs in bed. Collapsing on the doorstep, she had died in Jared’s arms. Shocked with grief, Kestryll's father had simply sat in the doorway, her body growing cold in his hands. For hours he sat, while Kestryll slept. Praying. Begging. Wishing for his wife to come back to him.
When she moved, Jared was overjoyed. Pulling her forward into a tearful embrace, he had barely noticed anything was wrong until her fangs sank into his neck. Screaming in pain, he shoved Bryony away, and seeing the monster she had become, did what he should have done before. He staked her, rendering her to dust.

However, for him it was too late. This he knew, and as he turned from the swirling pile of ash that had been his wife, he heard a voice at the top of the stairs. It was Kestryll. She had been awakened by the screams, and now stood in her nightdress, staring at her father. She had seen nothing.
Her father turned to her slowly. His eyes had been too shiny. Kestryll remembered that clearly.
"Daddy?" Kestryll had been unsure, something was wrong. She could feel it.

Her father had reached his arm out to her slowly. Kestryll had run downstairs, her feet quick and light on the steps. Running to him, Kestryll had bumped into him, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce little hug. Her father had hugged her back, his arms warm and strong. Kestryll had smiled, but it faded quickly. Even at her young age, Kestryll could tell something was wrong with her daddy.
"What’s wrong?" Kestryll had looked up at him. Then she had scowled briefly- an expression she had always pulled when she was thinking. Her mother used to tell her off for it. Said it wasn't ladylike.
Her father had looked down at her, a queer look in his eye. Then he had dropped to his heels beside Kestryll. Looking up into her eyes, which even then had been intense blue.
"Kess..." His voice had been hoarse. Like a frog, Kestryll had thought.
"You know I love you, don’t you? Very much."
Kestryll nodded, her face dropping slightly. She could sense something was wrong. Something was very wrong. She was scared.
"Where’s Mommy?"
Her father had smiled, and squeezed Kestryll's shoulders. Tears were brimming in his eyes now- Kestryll could see them.
"She's gone away for a while Kestryll. She told me... she said to tell you that she loves you very much, and she misses you."
Kestryll nodded slightly, smiling in a faint manner. Her blue eyes were fixed unwaveringly on her father's brown ones, the ones that were too shiny. He smiled back, but the smile looked broken in half to Kestryll's young mind.
He reached up his hand, stroking Kestryll's hair with his rough palm. Kestryll stared back at him. He shook his head faintly.
"You're going to be such a beautiful lady when you grow up."
His voice was still doing that froggy thing, but nevertheless, Kestryll smiled, and laughed. The sound of her chuckle echoed through the dark hallway, and she was glad to see her father smile in response.
The smile faded quickly, and her father became serious. Kestryll's own grin disappeared, and she listened attentively. She always knew when it was time to listen. This was one of those times.
"Kess, listen, I have a very important thing to do. I'm going to lock myself in the study until I've done it. Meanwhile, I need you to do something for me, okay?"
Kestryll had nodded eagerly. "Okay daddy."
Smiling thinly again, her daddy nodded. "Good girl. Now, look- the first thing I want you to do is to not come into the study. Not for anything. I know you know where the spare key is... but I don’t want to be disturbed, no matter what, okay?"
Kestryll nodded.
"The second thing I want you to do, is to go to your room, and get yourself dressed. When you've done that, Dave will be coming. You know Dave, don’t you?"
Kestryll nodded again. Dave was Daddy's friend from work. He sometimes gave Kestryll sweets. He had a funny set of false teeth that popped out when Daddy wasn't looking.
"Yes Daddy."
"Good.... Well when he comes around, I want you to show him where the spare key is to the study. Then I want you to wait downstairs while Dave comes up to... to talk to me. Okay?"

Daddy's voice was going funny now. Kestryll stared at him. He was looking very white. Black circles were forming under his eyes. Kestryll felt a trapped-bird fluttery feeling in her stomach.
"Okay Daddy..." She felt tears tugging at her voice. Daddy heard them too, and squeezed her shoulders once more.
"No, no, no, don’t cry. Don’t cry honey." Daddy pulled her close. For a moment Kestryll was enveloped in his embrace. Smelling the leathery tobacco smell that was pinned next to the word Daddy in her brain. It didn’t matter that he felt cold. It was that moment that would haunt her dreams for months to come, years. Simultaneously it would become her greatest source of comfort and her sweetest source of pain. Maybe it always would be.

Then Daddy was up. A final touch- his heavy hand brushed across Kestryll's small shoulder. Then he gave her a gentle push.
"Go on honey." He urged her. Kestryll saw him wobble- as though he might fall. His face was white now. It scared her. It was this more than anything else that got her moving.

That was the last time she saw her father. As she stood in her room, pulling a jumper over her head, Kestryll heard a dull bang. It echoed through the house... like a door slamming. But she thought little of it. She dared not go and ask Daddy if he heard it. She had to do as she was told. If she did what she was told, it would all be fine...

Ten minutes passed. Kestryll sat in her room, dressed in a haphazard fashion. She had clumsily folded up her nightdress. The way her mummy always did. Ten minutes in the life of a child was an eternity, and presently, Kestryll began to fidget.
Finally, the temptation became too much. Kestryll crept across the hall to her father's room, pressing her ear to the wood of the door. It was so quiet in there... and there was a peculiar smell. It was a smell Kestryll hadn't recognised. Later she would come to know it as cordite. A gun-smell. The next time she smelled it, she would be the one holding the gun. Many times in the years to come, Kestryll would be using a gun. But every time she did... that particular smell would tug at her soul.

Losing courage in her own disobedience, Kestryll had toddled off downstairs.

Things from then on were straightforward. Dave came, alerted by a strange phone call. He had stared at the key Kestryll showed him. Then he had disappeared upstairs, while Kestryll waited. He was gone for a long time. When he came back, he was pale. Greenish. Kestryll would have thought it was funny if she hadn't been scared out of her mind.

Kestryll had never seen her parents again. She had stayed with Dave for a few nights. Then it had been off to the orphanage, where Kestryll had been happy as could be expected. Never once had she asked again where her parents were. Somewhere, within her young mind, Kestryll knew.

---

For many years, Kestryll never knew what it was that killed her parents. Why her father did what he did. But life goes on, whether we understand it or not, and Kestryll came to be adopted from the orphanage by a man named Leonardo Carter. Her psychologist certified her mentally healthy - a remarkable state of being for a child who had been through such trauma, the report said. And sure enough, Kess seemed to be fine - on the outside.

Leo took her in and treated her - as the saying goes - like his own. He understood, though, that adopting a child like Kess was no easy feat, and for a long time the nightmares plagued her sleep. Night after night, Kestryll would awaken, screaming, in her room. With sleep came the scream that had awoken her, her fathers gaunt, white face, the bang, and that smell, that smell...
Soon enough the terrible visions of slumber turned into night terrors, and to this day she recalls the first time she realized they Humans were not alone in the world. She had cried out in her room, and as always, Leo had come to comfort her.
“What was it?” he’d murmured soothingly, though by now he knew the response. What Kess had said, though, had shocked him.
“I think there’s someone in the room.”
“Where are they?”
Kess had been terrified. Instead of dismissing it, and saying, ‘It’s okay, it’ll be alright’, he had assigned this phantom presence a name. It was ‘they’. Leo had known better than to ignore a child’s fear in a world of Vampires and Werewolves, and this had alerted Kestryll right there.
Leo had searched the room, assured her, she was safe, and left to go to sleep.
Her nightmares slowly became rarer and rarer.

Kess continued to excel at school, receiving exceptionally high grades. For now, Leo kept from her the true nature of his work, wanting to wait until she was old enough to understand. Kess seemed a happy enough child. However, on the inside, something was brewing- anger, a hatred that had no vent, no target, at which to be fired. Kestryll was a seething pot of hurt, which had had a good few years to mature.
The bubbling anger lay, well dormant within her. Waiting for a trigger. Perhaps Kestryll herself didn't know it was there. Until her life was turned upside down a second time. Strangely, however, no part of Kestryll was afraid. In her life she had learned to accept anything that came her way without argument. This was no different.

At least, until Dave died.

Kestryll attended his funeral, Leo accompanying the young girl. Dressed in black, hiding at the back of the church. No one noticed her. But Kestryll grieved. She grieved on behalf of herself, and of her father. Dave had been there for her when no one else had. Taken out by a heart attack. Gone in a blink. It wasn't a bad way to go...

It wasn't until a couple of days later that Kestryll received a strange mail. Opening it, she scowled. It was addressed to a 'Miss Heart'. And it was in Dave's handwriting. What the letter held stunned her. Kestryll sank down numbly into a chair. How could it be...
It was a letter from the solicitors. Apparently Dave had requested that when he died, the letter should be given to Kestryll. According to the wishes, he said, of her father. Her father hadn’t wanted her to know the truth until she was eighteen... but Dave had been afraid in case he should die, and the truth died with him.
Which was exactly what had happened... and now Dave's letter lay in front of her. It held the truth... the truth that had been missing from Kess’ knowledge for so long. She'd always known that there was something odd about the way her parents had died. Now she knew.

A Vampire- her parents had been killed by a Vampire.

Something within Kestryll had tilted madly, threatening to throw her from her sanity like a rider from a horse. But at the same time, a smouldering coal within her burst into flame. For so long Kestryll had stored up the anger within herself, with no one to direct it at. But now she did. Her parents' murderer had been given a name, or at least a race... and for Kestryll that was good enough.
Blazing, she had shown the letter to Leo. And Leo had understood. After standing under Kess' shouting, screaming, and anguished tears, he’d managed to calm her down and explain to her all about the world he meddled in and traded with. He'd wanted to wait until she was sixteen, but like Dave's letter, the information was given early, and at the age of thirteen, Kess was told about the creatures in the world around them.

From then on, Leo took her on. He educated her about the other races, about what he did, how the business worked. He was, to put it simply, a weapons dealer, selling the arms and means for people to destroy each other. Kess quickly became acquainted with several makes and models of handguns, sniper rifles and pistols. She handled daggers, threw knives for practice, and soon became infatuated with the medieval glamour of a full-length sword, no matter how impractical they really are. She took up fencing for a short while, and then her interests moved on.

What she had found was that it wasn't the trade that interested her, but the weapons and use of them instead. Kestryll wanted to fight, she wanted to kill. She wanted to be an assassin. Hardly a healthy ambition for a teenage girl, but that is the world we live in. Leo wasn't pleased at first. It was, after all, an assassin who wiped out his only son before Kess' adoption, so it seemed blackly ironic to him that his chosen heir want to take up the profession herself.
Eventually, Leo became open-mined about the subject and agreed to let her find and hire her own trainer so that she could be taught how to fight. Leo himself took her rock climbing, desert trekking, out to the arctic to scale sheer slopes of ice and camping with the barest essentials. Every obstacle he threw at her, she overcame.

Kess continued to excel. Her grades shot up, and she passed her A-levels with flying colours. She soon became interested in cloning, and she cloned her first simple-celled organism at the age of seventeen. She went to University, while juggling her work with the weapons trade and an acceptance to the army. She took her exams early, and emerged with three degrees before she was nineteen. She served in the army for two years from the age of eighteen, and considered herself a trained killer by the age of twenty-one.

A few months after her birthday, however, Leonardo suffered a stroke. Soon afterwards, he passed away. Kess had learned to deal with grief, but she still wept a few tears for the man who had treated her like his own daughter. She buried him in the family plot beside her mother and father.
After that, Kestryll had been sent the will. Ever since her adoption date, Leo had left everything, and I mean everything to her. So, there she was. Twenty-one years old, with Leo's money and residence. A weapons trade business at her feet, potential to become an assassin before her. Everything she had ever dreamt of was hers, and she was free to do as she wished.

Mother/Father:
Mother: Bryony Heart - Deceased
Father: Jared Heart - Deceased

Siblings: Heavens, no. Kess was an only child.

Offspring: None.

Other:
Adopted Father - Leonardo 'Leo' Carter - Deceased
Her biological paternal grandmother was called Kestryll, whom Kess is named after.

†RP example:†

(From another site.)

She reached the bottom without injury or ailment, and shook off her fur. She faced the door before her, hoisted herself on her hind legs and anchored her paws against the rough red brick wall. Facing the keypad, she gently leaned her head forward, tried to nose the combination. Instead of entering in the code and pushing the door open however, her muzzle mashed against the keys, making the light flash red and a low beep inform her that she wasn't gonna get past any time soon. She tried again, getting the same result.

She heaved a wolven grunt, which if she'd been human, would have been a sigh. Irritation was visible on her canine face. Magda was reminded of sausage-fingered behemoths trying to dial on tiny mobile phones, she used to sit in subway trains opposite them and chuckle to herself as they tried to call their friends or spouses. Now it just wasn't funny anymore.

She rested her weight on one paw and tried to paw in the combination, but her claws clicked against the keys uselessly. She tried again, and again, until she lost her balance from the paw she was leaning on and had to give up. She dropped to all four paws, giving Mich a growl of annoyance as he sat down before her. It was then, at the very end of the strugle did he give in. His eyes rolled back, and his form slumped limply forwards. She flopped down onto her belly, feeling that the gesture of defeat was at the very least therapeutic. She laid her head on her forepaws, looking from the now unconcious Mich to the door and back again. What a day, huh?

So, nose and paws wouldn't work. Mich couldn't open the door- he was out cold and even if she decided to lick him awake, he didn't even know the combination. Forcing the door was useless, Magda had it steel-backed a long time ago so that Vampires wouldn't be able to do exactly that. She could, however, shift back and quickly pop in the code. No Mich, no peeking, and that gave her all the privacy she needed.

The wolf looked at the door, then to the ground. She allowed the fur to recede, the tail to shrink, the claws to become nails. Everything that was once wolf merged smoothly into its human counterpart, the hair darkened to ebony, her eyes became green. The whole shenanigan. And before Magda got a chance to let go of the breath she'd just taken, a wolf no longer sat on the concrete floor, but a completely naked woman, with working fingers. These she used to punch in the code: 9-3-7-3-9-6-5-3, and after the light turned green and the door buzzed her in, she swung it open, propped it there with a stone.

She was cold, naked, and weaponless. It was in the dead of the night and almost everything she owned was in an alleyway in the middle of the city somewhere, and not only that, but there was an unconcious man she'd probably have to carry inside. As she stepped into the pitch blackness of the storage cellar under the mall, her eyes saw nothing, and her nose smelled only the dank odor of wet stone and peeling cardboard. One step into the cellar and she stumbled over a box, throwing her hands out to stop herself from landing face down on the ground. The heels of her hands caught the soft cardboard, which sunk under her weight and ripped easily from the slight damp. "Bollocks!" she hissed, trying to regain her grace after such a magnificent stagger. Yet, after everything that had gone wrong for her today, there must be someone up in them there clouds who still liked her, because as Magda disentangled herself from the box she'd fallen into, the carboard collapsed away to reveal a large order of men's shirts. She was in the clothes storage.

Magda pulled one out, felt around in the pitch blackness to try feel what kind of garment it was, and after a moment or so, she shrugged it on and buttoned it up. It was an XL. The hem almost touched her knees. Magda turned to the wedge of moonlight streaming in through the doorway, rolling up the sleeves that swamped her hands and carrying with her another shirt identical to her own. She opened the door a little wider as she moved outside, knelt before Mich. She used the shirt to cover him up, for his sake as well as her own.
"Alright bub," she breathed, knowing she wasn't getting a reply but talking anyway. It beat talking to herself as usual, right? Magda pulled his torso into her left arm, linked her right under his legs, lifted him up despite the size and weight difference between them. "Smells like it's just you and me in here."

Carrying him in both arms, she moved inside again, kicked out the stone that wedged the door. It slammed behind her and left her in darkness. If there had been a God up there feeling particularly sadistic, he would have filled the room in boxes and laughed as she staggered into them all. Luckily for her, Magda had been down in the other cellar- the food cellar- many times before, and knew where the staircase was, knew how the boxes were stacked. She found her way through the darkness without any major incident, feeling the way with her bare feet. When she reached the staircase, she counted the thirteen steps up to the ground floor. Yay, lucky thirteen.
The rest of the mall was as silent as ever. The fountain trickled in the foyer, still red because someone had washed Vampire blood off their hands a few weeks ago and Magda couldn't be bothered to change the water. Stores stood empty, clothes pulled off racks and exchanged for older, tattier garments. Food stores were empty and coated in dust. Everything else was just waiting for use, waiting for occupation. The silence hummed in her ears, and this time, Magdalene couldn't summon the will to break it.

Naturally, Magda had to choose to live on the top floor. It just made her entire life that much easier, didn't it? And of course, life wouldn't be so peachy fine if she didn't get the chance to haul a fully-grown man up so many flights of stairs without a working elevator in sight.
Sometimes, God just liked to fuck with her.
The entire top floor was actually pretty tiny. Behind a 'Staff Only' door, a thin staircase led to a short corridor. On this corridor were two doors opposite each other at the very end. The room on the right was the CCTV monitor room, where Magda liked to pass the time by watching the empty mall around her, and shooting Vampires who happened to intrude. The room on the left was where she lived. An old security guard staff room, with a small kitchen, couch and a few armchairs with a coffee table. The seating area she had pushed to the middle of the room, making space for a flat-pack IKEA bed she'd carried up and assembled in the corner. At the foot of the bed was a doorway leading to the bathroom, and as the security guards often worked night shifts, she had the only shower in the building at her disposal.
The room was littered with objects. An alarm clock lay in pieces on the chipped kitchen counter next to a set of batteries, and several heavy books with their notes were strewn across the coffee table. The notes were on biology- workings of the Vampire body, cell properties and how they were able to serve the Vampire even after death.

The bed was roughly made, and Magda hadn't slept in it in three days. It was upon this bed that Magda laid Mich down, quickly covered him with a blanket, and moved over to the kitchen area. Years of good practice allowed Magda to have a bowl of diluted TCP and a clean cloth whipped from a drawer in what seemed like moments. She pulled up a chair to the side of the bed, rested the bowl on her lap, soaked the cloth. She wrung it out, keeping it just damp enough but not enough to drip, and leaning forwards Magda brushed aside his hair to hold the antiseptic to the gash just above his ear.

†Let's talk about you:†

Name: Just call my by my character name. I don't really like giving out details on the Internet.
Other Characters: None.
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[AKREE]

Accepted
Very nice detailed history, really good job on her. I'm going to clear out details on how to kill vamps and weres and what happens to them in the FAQ XP sorry for the confusion.

Welcome to RoO and happy role playing!