Post by artemis riley evans on Jan 18, 2012 15:12:45 GMT -6
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 380px; background-image:URL(http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h177/animegrl-252/x0r3w0.png); border-left: 10px solid #1e1e1e; border-right: 10px solid #1e1e1e;] ARTEMIS R. EVANS  HEY THERE, THEY CALL ME ARTEMIS AND I'M CURRENTLY TWENTY-THREE YEARS OLD. I'M PART OF THE WEREWOLVES AND I'M A VAMPIRE HATER. ------------------------------------------------- I am the one and only Artemis Riley Evans. When I was younger, my mother affectionately called me a wild child. And I definitely lived up to that nick name. I broke all the rules on a daily basis simply because I could. Some idiotic shrinks have told me that these acts were a cry for attention because of my lack of a father figure and equally absent hard-working mother, but I think that is a load of bullshit. I did the things I did because they were wickedly fun and was quite insulted that the doctor called me an attention whore. The nerve of some people. Anyways, I was the bad girl of my small town in Maryland. I hung out with the older kids who I quickly made into my posse, skipped class on the regular, fooled around with boys, and could often be found smoking behind the school dumpsters. And then one day everything changed. I remember that it was a blisteringly hot day in July when my friends and I decided that it would be a brilliant idea to steal a car. I was thirteen at the time and most certainly didn't know how to drive, but I demanded to anyways. I was the leader of our little pack and no one was going to go against me. Even today, I still have quite a nasty temper when provoked and don't take well to being ordered around. Anyways, we decided to steal the nicest car in town, the Mercedes that belonged to the high school principal. Once we stole the car we zoomed down the country roads outside our small town screaming like lunatics. One of my friends, Lucy, turned down the music and demanded that I slow down. I didn't, of course, and two minutes later I went around a curve too sharply, lost control of the car completely, and slammed into a tree. I woke up in a hospital with minor injuries, but my friend Lucy had died in the crash, according to my mother who was sobbing hysterically at my bed side. I didn't quite learn why she was so distraught until I returned home the next day. She told me that our family, like many others, was cursed with the werewolf gene and that killing someone would activate it. I didn't believe her, not even when she forcibly drugged me and locked me in our basement the night of the full moon. The transformation was pure agony. I remember very little from my first transformation besides howling in confusion in pain. It was a good thing we lived on a farm with our nearest neighbors nine miles away. Because, as my mother told me the next morning, to be a werewolf was not only a terrible curse, but one that must stay hidden from the world. My mother paid a lawyer well to get my charges cleared and my records hidden. After that, my wild child antics calmed slightly. I realized that I couldn't do the things I had been doing (quite frankly I didn't even like them anymore) and the overwhelming urge to find someone of my kind pounded through my veins. One full moon, however, I found someone that was most certainly not of my kind. A vampire. Their need to feed off the prosperity of others like disgusting leeches filled me with an anger I cannot understand. Just the smell made me want to go mad, so I killed him. Looking back, I realize that he must have been quite young for me to have killed him so easily before I even properly trained myself as a werewolf. As I know today, vampires aren't so easy to kill, but I'd still love to try if I come across one again. I hope I do. Today, I have odd jobs that I routinely get fired from as I move from city to city. I cannot risk letting someone catch onto my routine of never being able to work the night of a full moon. Besides, my prideful nature often leads me to react badly at being ordered around. I am a leader, not a follower, after all. I want to unite with those of my own kind as the vampire population seems to grow more and more each day. |
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THE PERSON BEHIND THIS WONDERFUL CHARACTER IS GENERALLY CALLED BECKY AND SITS AT NINETEEN. SHE LIVES IN THE CST TIMEZONE. ALSO, THIS CHARACTER LOOKS PRETTY SIMILAR TO DARLA BAKER, DON'T YOU THINK?
[/div]THE PERSON BEHIND THIS WONDERFUL CHARACTER IS GENERALLY CALLED BECKY AND SITS AT NINETEEN. SHE LIVES IN THE CST TIMEZONE. ALSO, THIS CHARACTER LOOKS PRETTY SIMILAR TO DARLA BAKER, DON'T YOU THINK?
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made by brooklyn at caution[/center]
