Post by cassandra on Jul 14, 2013 15:59:53 GMT -5
Cassandra Nkechinyere Nyte
* So raise your glass if you are wrong,
In all the right ways,
All my underdogs,
We will never be never be, anything but loud
And nitty gritty dirty little freaks .
HI THERE. MY NAME IS Hazel, AND I AM fifteen.
I'VE BEEN ROLE PLAYING FOR ABOUT four years via Horseland, Chatzy, Proboards and Omegle
AND MY OTHER CHARACTER(S) WOULD BE Aline Penhallow or Raphael Santiago (I'm assuming you guys mean canon charries)
[/center]- - - - nickname(s), Cass, Nyte
- - - - gender, Female
- - - - age, 507
- - - - species, Warlock
- - - - sexuality, Pan-sexual
- - - - status, Single
- - - - occupation, Potions Dealer
- - - - alliance, Neutral
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- - - - hair, Curly naturally brown hair which she constantly dyes with magic
- - - - build, Lean but curvy in some places
- - - - distinguishing marks, Feline eyes
- - - - height, 5'6"
- - - - fashion sense, Tasteful but not gaudy. Ex- A sailboat tessogram blouse under a black denim jacket with navy denim skinny jeans. Black, diamond studded shark tooth earrings dangled from her ears and her eyes shimmered with a faint trace of gold eyeshadow. On her arms were metallic purple and gold bangles and on her feet she wore simple black flats. Around her neck hung three pendants, one with the "Mind, Body, Spirit" symbol of yogis, another being a simple gold circle which symbolizes "Karma" and the third being an ancient Ibgo pendant given to her by her mother.
- - - - Play By, Antonia Thomas
[/ul][/ul]
- Felines
- Dancing
- Reading
- Peaches
- Flirting
- - - - Cassandra hates,
[li]Canines[/li]
[li]Rain[/li]
[li]Losing[/li]
[li]Artichokes[/li]
[li]Bugs[/li]
- - - - strengths,
[li]Potion brewing[/li]
[li]Writing[/li]
[li]Dancing[/li]
[li]Negotiating[/li]
[li]Thinking on her feet[/li]
[li]Hiding[/li]
- - - - weaknesses,
[li]Severe insectophobia[/li]
[li]Poor spellcaster[/li]
[li]Loyal to a fault[/li]
[li]True emotions often hidden[/li]
[li]Slow to trust (at first)[/li]
[li]Not a morning person[/li]
- - - - ambitions,
- Establish a name for herself outside of London
- Become a better spellcaster
- Survive the inevitable fight between demonic beings and seraphic one
- - - - super-objective,
To be able to live her life without the fear of having to run from someone more powerful than herself
- - - - fears,
[li]Bugs[/li]
[li]Magical combat[/li]
[li]Betrayal[/li]
- - - - overall personality,
Growing up in a time where people of her color were bound and sold as property, she received much disdain and hate from others and because of this, built up a wall around her emotions. If she perceives someone to be a threat to her she can come off as cold and wickedly sarcastic, a defense used as a preliminary buffer. Her lack of skill in magical combat has caused her to develop a strong sense of when to stand her ground and when to disappear, more often than not choosing the latter.
However, if she determines that they don't pose a threat, her personality can change dramatically. At best she will be nicer, more inviting and less on guard, less being the optimal word. She doesn't let things like gender, or species for that matter, get in the way of forming a relationship. As to what kind of relationship, that depends on the other person. She can go from being energetic enough to scale Big Ben, to lacking wnough motivation even to get up and feed her cat. Cassandra can be incredibly flirtatious, another ploy to keep others from knowing her true feelings, and a way she can feel in control of a situation.
Still, there are those rare few who have earned her whole, undiluted trust, and for these people she shows a kinder sider. She is more caring, less bitingly sarcastic, and allows them to see more of her emotions. Deep down she doesn't really feel like she deserves their friendship and is terrified they will realize this too and reject her. Because of this she will pour herself into any serious relationship, romantic or platonic. No matter how dismal the situation, if someone had proven to be a true friend, Cassandra will stand by them till the end.
[/ul][/ul]
- - - - father's name, Prince of Hell
- - - - mother's name, Elizabeth Ekene Nyte
- - - - siblings,Magnus Bane (half-brother)
- - - - non-blood family, London Land Lady- Mrs. Edgars, Cat-Selena
- - - - overall history,
Cassandra Nkechinyere Nyte was born on July 22, 1506 to Elizabeth Ekene Nyte in a time that was fraught with change. Her mother was the daughter of a high standing African chief. When Europeans came to their shores with the intent of slave capture, her people fought ferociously, but she was still among the scores of indigenous African who were snatched by the Spanish. The man who became her master had an estate in Wales and was loathsome by any standards. When she realized she had no chance of ever returning to her home, she summoned a demon, hoping the encounter would kill her. Instead the demon offered to free her from her servitude and in gratitude she laid down with him. The next morning her master was dead and, as he had no heirs or immediate family, all business was transferred to her. Nine months later Cassandra was born.
She was courted by many men, none of whom her mother deemed worthy, and always caused a stir wherever she went. When time began to take its toll on Elizabeth, who had changed her name to something more "acceptable" in the high circles of Europe, Cassandra showed no mark of age. As it was, people began to speculate the peculiar case of the Nyte family and all kinds of rumors sprung up about how the daughter could remain so young while the mother aged. When she was nearly forty, Cassandra still had the look of a sprightly girl in her twenties and that was when she took to living solely in the manor in Cardiff with her mother, never socializing much.
After her mother's passing she discovered in an old book a summoning spell and, out of curiosity, performed it, unknowingly calling forth her own father, that demon that had saved her mother from servitude all those years ago. When he explained to her what she was, a warlock of incredible power and potential, she finally felt a sense of peace, knowing that she was not alone in her immortal curse. She lived for centuries in the manor, alone, and many legends sprang up about the "Witch of Nyte Manor", some true, all fantastical. In the past 300 years she left the manor, which was now a crumbling ruin of an estate, and moved to London where she got more in touch with other warlocks and Downworlders.
Where early Renaissance Wales had failed her, Victorian London made up for it. The people were more vibrant and moving, more freethinking and less inhibited than in her time and she loved it. Still retaining her youthful face she adapted quickly and had made a bit of a name for herself as an excellent brewer of even the most complex of potions. She moved from place to place, the most recent of which being and old apartment rented to her by the elderly, but fiery, Mrs. Edgars. When Valentine made the Circle, she purposefully avoided all contact with any Nephlim or Downworlders who were affiliated, remaining neutral and waiting for it all to blow over.
Cassandra grew fond of New York and so decided to rent an apartment in Manhattan, hoping to make a name for herself in the bustling city. She did her best to stay out of the fight between Valentine and the Clave, and then Sebastian and the Clave. It wasn't easy to stay neutral with demons running amok, but London honestly wasn't much different. She figured if she could go back and forth between the cities, she could eventually wait out the power struggle, coming out relatively unscathed.
- - - - rp sample,
Cassandra stretched lazily, her green cat eyes blinking in the afternoon sunlight. "Hello darling," she said to her jet black cat Selena who'd leaped onto the bed and was purring against Cassandra's outstretched hand. "Why so loving? You want something?" She said, eyeing the cat suspiciously. Selena looked up at her, her green eyes looking as innocent as possible. "You broke something didn't you?" Cassandra said sitting up and running a hand through her wavy, dark purple hair. She pulled a lock down and held it in front of her face examining it. "Maybe a blue today," she mused as she got up and out of the bed, heading towards the kitchen. She wasn't up to her usual standard in clothes choice, sporting a green spaghetti strap top and black and green pajama bottoms with little witch hats on them, but no one was coming over so she was in the clear.
When she saw the wreckage she immediately whirled on her cat, who had been following behind at a good distance. "Selena!" she exclaimed, and the cat ears flattened against her head. "You did this?" The kitchen was in shambles, there was food all over the counter, several broken dishes on the floor and the flower vase on the small dining table had been upset. Selena looked at her paws shamefully and Cassandra sighed. She couldn't be that mad even if she wanted to. "Ruddy menace," she said picking the cat up gently and scratching behind her ear. "If you were hungry you should've woken me up," Selena purred in her arms, obviously happy to still be in the warlock's good graces. "Alright, off you go. Someone's got to clean this up,"
"A love potion? Seriously?" She was used to getting all kinds of requests from her customers. Someone's baby was too hairy; there was a potion for that. Someone needed an antidote for their illegal chimpanzee's snake bite; there was a potion for that. Someone needed some "extra stamina"; there were plenty of potions for that. She was so used to these strange and sometimes questionable orders that when someone asked her for something as simple as a love potion, she was somewhat disappointed. She waved away the woman's remark about taking her business elsewhere. "No need for that now, I was simply appalled by your lack of creativity," she sat down her cup of tea and went to the open living room where she kept her chest full of brews. "Maximum strength," she said plucking out a vial filled with swirling purple liquid.
As she walked back over to the table, she noticed an array of thin, white scars ornamenting the woman's wrist, old Marks done by a Shadowhunter's hand. Cassandra usually didn't question about her clients' backgrounds, money was money either way, but when dealing with Nephlim, one could never be too careful. "Would your friends in high places like you consorting with someone like me?" She asked and the woman jerked her sleeves down hastily, covering the bit of skin showing. "I only ask because I've had the Clave breathing down my neck before and, well, lets just say I'm not a big fan of it," she placed the vial on the table and opened the small envelope that held her compensation, counting the bills to be sure. "All here," he said with a satisfied nod. The woman placed the potion in her bag and made for the door wordlessly. "Oi, shadowhunter," Cassandra called just before the other had made it out the door. "If it doesn't work out with that bloke, I mean, if you get bored," she smirked, placing a hand on the table and leaning on it, "Call me."[/ul][/ul]
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