|
|
Post by Active Sin on Sept 2, 2012 0:19:54 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 470px; opacity: 0.8; border-right: #333759 2px solid; border-left: #333759 2px solid; border-top: #333759 2px solid; border-bottom: #333759 2px solid; font: georgia; color: #ffffff;]
active sin
NAME: Liah Irazelle Strife
ALIAS: Sin
AGE: Died at seventeen, now nineteen
GENDER: Female
SEXUALITY: Heterosexual
MEMBER GROUP: Active
OCCUPATION: Active Sin, Rank 3
*Personality
From a young age, Liah developed a flair for dry wit (with sarcasm to follow closely by), and it's rare for her to not have a sarcastic response to people's questions. She likes to keep a straight face when being sarcastic, as she finds it amusing to see people try and figure out whether she's being serious or joking. She comes across as blunt and rude, but that's because she enjoys telling people the truth--even if they may not like to hear it. She can be quite feisty when she wants to be, and she sees no problem in being a bitch, if it means that people would leave her alone. Liah constantly hides her true feelings, because she feels that the more a person knows about her, then the more vulnerable she is; hence the usual snow queen attitude. She has purposefully erratic mood changes, so she could be joking with you minute, and then telling you to fuck off and die the next; all to keep you on your little feet. But that's what she wants--no one could describe what Liah is really like. And, of course, that's how she gets her fun.
Liah is also rather impatient, and you can always see her arms crossed, lips pursed, and a foot tap, tap, tapping away whenever she deems that something is taking far too long than it should be. This, along with her slight aggression, is probably one of her biggest flaws. Because of her impatience, Liah doesn't seem to stop and think, and instead, follows by the rule: act now, deal with the consequences later. And, stubborn as she is, she also rarely listens when people tell her to stop, think, and reason. Seeing as she was a thief, this obviously gave her plenty of trouble, but hey, she's a quick runner. Life goes on.
Also, Liah hates being wrong, and hates being corrected. She dislikes people who tell her what to do, and what she can and can't do--basically people who tell her how to live her life. It's these people, that usually get verbally abused, and their pockets emptied; Liah likes her freedom, and she doesn't understand why some people can dictate other people's lives.
She fears anything to do with commitment, simply because she doesn't want to get hurt. Her twin died not too long ago, and she didn't want to let anyone else in after that. Losing someone you loved was unnatural, and the pain was far too great. But ironically enough, she also fears being alone; partly due to the fact her parents had abandoned her and her brother. Because of this, she learnt how to get things from others, and manipulate them well. Liah has got an alluring smile that can make most go weak at the knees, and she isn’t afraid to use it to get what she wants. She'll happily use others, if it means it'll help herself. In her mind, it's either her, or them. She can't afford to be nice; and to be honest, she doesn't really want to be.
But when she died, things changed.
Her memories of disappointment, loss, and grief have all disappeared, so there's no reason for her to be so closed off, to be as bitchy as before. She became softer, more willing to trust, to hope. She found that when she grew her own personality, she was still sarcastic as ever--she remained pretty much the same, just..toned down. Her fear of commitment vanished, because with her memory of her twin gone, so had her fear of being hurt.
Even though she was somewhat the same, she wasn't Liah Strife--not anymore.
She was Active Sin.
*Appearance
Hair: When she was human, she had a russet halo of hair that graced her head, which cascaded down to the end of her ribs. It was wavy (but only slightly just), and it's the perfection that most girls dream of. She had side bangs that she'd constantly flick away due to habit, although they never got in the way of her vision. As an Active, the style remained, but the colour had turned to white. She dyes it brown now and again, because somehow, it just feels right.
Eyes: She has large, cerulean eyes (a blue so clear, with now an almost luminous glow added), outlined with thick, long lashes. There's always some sort of emotion dancing in her eyes, whether it may be amusement, mischievousness, or anger. She always draws eyeliner across her eye lids in a cat like fashion, and any eye make up she wears is usually dark.
Build: She stands at 5'5 and weighs 105 pounds, which gives her a small frame, and is why she's somewhat weak, physically. Sin's physique isn't designed to be a fighter, but a runner; even as a human, she was quicker and agiler than most.
Style: Sin has a very laid back style, although if it was to be labelled, it would be the closest to grunge. As a human, she had a liking for over sized clothes, and it stuck with her, even after death. She can usually be seen in army boots, shorts, and a (usually drop arm) top, with a denim or leather jacket nearby. She doesn't care for jewelry, or any other kind of accessories.
Scars/Piercings/Tattoos: She used to have all sorts of scars from the cuts and scrapes she endured as a human, including the bullet wound she received on her side from one unfortunate meeting with Suits--just because you were fast, didn't mean you got away without getting hurt in the process. But all those scars, including the ones she received from her murder have been removed by Mother.
Anything else?: She has the palest ivory skin, and no matter how many hours she spends in the sun, it never changes. Her lips are usually twisted into her signature smirk (amused, and just a touch of fuck you), her brow usually arched, and her hands usually placed elegantly on her hip, which, of course, is cocked.
Face Claim: Kaya Scodelario
*History
"'I'm so sorry, Mr Brooks."
The words were practiced, smooth. They'd been spoken plenty of times before.
"She passed away."
The doctor stood idly by, as once again, another man wept for the loss of his love.
__________________________
Edward Brooks was a man of popularity, and wealth. When he fell in love with Amelia, the maid, the only reason why they did not marry, was precisely because he did not want to tarnish his reputation, and risk being scorn for marrying a commoner; a civilian. Amelia, too kind to say anything against it, became his secret mistress.
But when she died of childbirth, leaving her love a pair of twins as a parting gift, Edward found that he did not want anything to do with it at all. With her--and her beauty--gone, so was the fear of being found out. Bringing up the children of a dead maid wasn't something a a high class suit's son did.
And so, he sent them off to the nearest orphanage, and left it as that.
__________________________
They named the girl Liah, and the boy Alexander Strife--Edward had made sure that they had gotten that right: "I don't care what their first names are; but you have to call them Strife."
Despite the lack of care, food, and just about anything, they managed to grow up relatively alright. The owners of the orphanage didn't seem to care much for the children, and the twins and to learn to look after each other, and fast.
They got on well with the other children that lived in the orphanage, but they knew that they only had each other--they couldn't trust anyone else. Their parents had abandoned them, and so they were the only family they had. All in all, the twins left the others alone, and vice versa; anyone who attempted to pick a fight was soon chased away by Liah, and her fiery attitude.
Surprisingly, she grew to be the more guarded of the group, becoming the sarcastic bitch, in order to seem tough and to be able to protect her brother. Alex, however, was the kinder of the duo; unlike his sister, who hated the world and everything in it, he was somewhat the opposite. Liah called him stupid and naive. He just wanted to give the world a chance.
The twins learnt how to steal in order to survive, and together, they made a good duo. Liah was the one who did all the action, always wanting to take risks, and push it that little bit further. Alex made sure that Liah didn't do anything stupid--he was the brains behind every operation. Without each other, neither could get away with it.
But then, after fourteen years of surviving together, trouble appeared in the form of three men.
It wasn't long, before Liah heard heavy footsteps behind them, the pace quickening with every second passed. She paused, before turning to see three men a few meters away from them. She glanced at her brother, and motioned that they should quicken their pace, and they, in sync, began to hurry down the path. The footsteps behind them grew steadily louder, until she couldn't bear it anymore. Coming to a sudden stop, she turned, brow arched and jaw set, blue eyes narrowing, hands clenching into tight fists.
She, as always, inched forward, automatically shielding her brother from the present harm. But even she knew, that her protection could only go so far; when it came to fighting, she was useless. For a moment, her eyes locked with the man in the middle, and they exchanged nothing except aggressive looks.
Suits.
"You lost, pretty girl?"
The man in the middle, obviously the leader of the three, inched forward, before turning just a little, but enough for Liah to see the a gun hidden away beneath his jacket. She tensed, shifting her weight nervously to the right--she'd heard about Suits. The rumours were infamous, exaggerated almost, but each lie was based on a truth. She knew what they could do; what they were willing to do. She knew all too well.
Feigning arrogance, she flicked her bangs and cocked her hip, crossing her arms as if to say: what, that's it?
"Depends. If I say no, you gunna shoot me with your big, scary gun?"
She could feel the edgy fear radiating from her brother, and she didn't have to be his twin to know what he was thinking. Was sarcasm really the best idea in this situation? Probably not.
But that was just how Liah was.
The man laughed, and he walked forward once more, taking his time to close the gap. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her ear, smelling like whiskey and wealth. It made her feel sick.
"I just might, sweetheart. But that'd be a waste of a face like yours, won't it?"
He leaned back and laughed, malicious eyes rudely flickering downwards, before settling back onto her face. She, in return, smiled sweetly, before spitting into his face: defence.
The next part happened so fast.
The three men all drew their guns, and the two behind stood lazily at the back, sure that their leader would be able to finish two children. The man in the middle grinned coldly, before taking aim.
She closed her eyes.
Bang.
It didn't hurt.
"Well I'll be damned."
What?
With a start, she opened her eyes, dread filtering in, and then, as if in slow motion, Liah watched red roses bloom out of her brother's chest, his heart falling silent before he even reached the ground.
He'd taken her shot.
She didn't have time to scream, or cry; Liah tore off into the safe cover of the trees--albeit her small frame, she could run with speed--only to be shot in the side. Blood streaming, she forced herself to continue to run, until she was in the safety of the shadows. It was only then, that she collapsed to the ground. Eyes still wide, she stared blankly in the air, ignoring the fire hugging her side, not wanting to accept the truth. Her twin was dead. He was the only family she had left; now she had nothing.
Shaking fingers clutched at her side, the sharp pangs of pain hurting, almost to a point of sheer agony--but she could deal with that. She'd been hurt, physically, before.
The pain in her chest was something she couldn't deal with.
Dark butterflies fluttered near, and she welcomed the black.
__________________________
"Why'd you even bring her? We don't need another mouth to feed."
"I-I couldn't just leave her there, could i?"
"You could've--you should've."
"Shut up, she's waking up!"
Her torso felt tight; annoyingly so. Her side itched, and she moved to scratch, only to find that her hands were restrained from movement. Her eyes flickered, and slowly, the light teetered in, blurry shapes beginning to sharpen to form clearer images.
Three faces surrounded her view, each holding different emotions: worry, happiness...anger.
Her own held nothing but blank, void of feeling. They, her rescuers she supposed, noticed, but didn't comment; they'd all seen that face before. It wasn't uncommon from where they lived.
"You're awake!"
A girl--or at least, what she thought was a girl--pushed forwards, shoving the two boys away as she did so. Lifting a hand, she pressed it firmly against Liah's forehead, grey eyes squinting in thought. "Mm, still a little off, but you're still good to go. Oh, let me undo those straps for you." Agile fingers worked quickly to release the leather strips encircled around Liah's wrists and ankles, glancing back at the brunette every so often as she did so.
Cerulean betrayed nothing, so she carried on talking.
"We had to strap you down, 'cuz you kept moving, alright? Kept trying to rip off your bandages, silly. Jack was going mad."
So that was what they were for. She should've been more worried, ask questions maybe, but she didn't see why she should. She didn't have the strength, or motivation, anyway. Brows furrowing, she moved to sit up, lips twitching when the girl rushed forwards to help her up, just like she expected her to. A sharp pang shot across her side, and she hissed, a sharp intake of breath, her right hand fluttering down to cradle the wound. Glancing up, she surveyed the room--or more like a basement. The walls were dank, and deteriorating, random lumps of furniture scattered here and there, looking as if someone has desperately tried to clean it up and make it look pretty, but failing miserable. Liah glanced back at the girl, and knew, without hesitation, that she was the who tried. It reminded her of her brother, somehow.
But enough of that.
"..Where am I?" She murmured, and this time, a boy (the one with the worried expression) leaned forwards, nervously biting his fingernails. "You're at our house. Near the forest. Away from town." He shrank back as he spoke, as if expecting to be hit, and relief flashed across his features when he remained unhurt. Liah paused. "You found me?" He nodded.
"Why didn't you take me to the police station?"
The boy looked away, nervously looking back and forth between the girl and the other boy, almost as if waiting for permission to speak. The boy--older, scarier, meaner--remained still, and the girl, risking a glance at Liah, nodded at the boy. He, gnawing at his nails, gazed down at the floor, not wanting to meet Liah's eye. "I had, ah, I was, I mean I had some things, like, not my things, I mean--"
"Oh for Gods sake."
The older boy clamped a hand down on the other boy's shoulder, before giving him a rough shake. "Just shut up, Thomas. Don't bother answering her, look at her! She isn't even fucking grateful."
"Jack, that's a bit harsh--"
"Don't you start with me, Violet, or i swear to fucking God--"
"Or you'll what, Jack? Hit me like you hit Tom?"
Thwack.
Liah watched, unnerved, as the older boy nursed his fist, as Thomas stared in horror, As the girl quivered on the floor, both hands cradling her cheek, soft moans escaping shaking lips. Cerulean watched, as Jack straightened his back, demanding superiority and power. For a moment, their eyes locked, cerulean against jade, neither one wanting to look away first.
"You shouldn't have been brought here."
His lip curled, and he roughly grabbed Thomas' collar, before dragging him out the room with him.
"Sorry about that," the girl, Violet, mumbled, one hand still pressed firmly against her reddened cheek. "It's not his fault, not really. He means well." She hurried to stand, shuffling over to pick up an ice pack from a box, before holding it against her face. "It's his brother. The boss; you'll meet him soon enough." She turned, both brows burrowed over worried eyes. "Jack isn't all that bad." Liah didn't know whether Violet was talking to her, or herself.
The brunette licked her lips, one brow arching slowly over inquisitive eyes, cerulean missing nothing. Eyes lidded, she blew out a small breath, before saying, "you love him."
It wasn't a question.
Violet laughed under her breath, shaking her head; her lips flickered into a laugh, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Liah knew the feeling.
"That obvious? I suppose it is, really. He must've noticed by now, but he doesn't say anything. I don't know what's worse, him ignoring me, or..."
"Him rejecting you," Liah finished for her, monotonous and matter-of-fact. She wanted this conversation to be over; she didn't want to talk about love. "So what happens now?"
Violet paused, head tilting to gaze at her--almost sorrowful, almost pitiful.
"You stay."
Again.
It wasn't a question.
__________________________
For the next three years of her life, Liah spent her time with the gang; thieves, really. It was almost ironic. Almost.
Violet explained to her how the system went: the Boss, Jack's older brother, controlled them all--no questions asked. All heists were planned by him, all objects stolen went to him, and all the money went to him.
He used children--orphans who had no home--and gave them a place to live, food to eat. No money; never any money. They meant nothing to him, that much Liah could tell. Whenever one got arrested, or even killed, he didn't bat an eyelid. Just got another orphan, another child to work for him.
He was a man of power, and therefore expected to be obeyed, to be worshiped, almost. Narcissistic and egoistical, he wasn't a man that Liah approved of--but there was also something else.
Once you joined the gang, you couldn't leave.
The boss was arrogant, but he was also paranoid; those who expressed their doubts about the gang, or spoke of leaving, promptly soon disappeared.
__________________________
"Do you ever think of leaving?"
Liah paused, surprise dancing in cerulean briefly, before flickering quickly back to their usual blank. She glanced at Jack, cold, violent Jack, Boss' younger brother Jack, and she wondered. Wondered if he suffered just like the rest of them--maybe more. They, together, in sync, leaned into the other, shoulders bumping just slightly, but enough so. In that one moment, she felt ok. Not great, not good, just ok.
But ok was good enough for her.
"Do you?" He asked.
She turned to stare at him, harsh eyes softened by regret.
"Everyday."
__________________________
She woke to find herself strapped to the bed; the same bed she found herself in three years ago. Alarmed, she tugged on her arms, trying to pull them loose to no prevail. Heart thumping, her breathe began to quicken, realisation slowly beginning to sink in. The light flickered on, and she froze, frantic blue desperately searching, searching for somebody, anybody. Her gaze fell on a tall figure, and her heart began to fall.
"Awake, i see."
The smooth, baritone drawl pierced her ears, and her body tensed, muscles clenching in apprehension. He, the Boss, glided lithely up to where she was strapped, taking his time walking towards her, almost mockingly. A hauntingly knowing smile played on wry lips. and his eyes flickered to her own, his movements, as if wanting to take in every second. It occurred to her, almost sickeningly, that he was enjoying this--he was feeding off the fear. He trailed a finger gently up her leg, starting from the inside of her ankle, up the subtle curve of her calf, the dip of her knee, before lingering tormentingly at the base of her thigh. She flinched, trying to get away from his touch, and he, eyes narrowing, dug his nail into the skin, ordering her still.
"I heard you're thinking of leaving us, Liah," he murmured, his hand slowing gliding upwards to her hip, "I heard you've been having these thoughts for quite a while, now." His eyes screamed danger: dark amusement. He paused, looking at her, expecting a yes, i'm sorry, forgive me.
Liah remained silent, watching him, gaining time; his words spoke of betrayal, and an image of an older boy flashed in her mind.
When she didn't respond, he leaned closer, dept fingers playing with the hem of her shirt. "In fact, my dear, I heard that you've been having those thoughts everyday."
She froze, and he grinned.
"That's ungrateful, my dear."
He turned, dragging a box towards the bed. The clinking of metal sounded sharp, and she began to panic, tugging on her bonds until her skin broke. He clamped down a hand on her chest, one finger gently, almost lovingly, stroking the base of her throat.
"Do you know what I do to the ungrateful?"
A flash of silver; jagged blades.
Jack.
__________________________
Her body was found one month later, hidden carelessly between two bushes.
The coroners were horrified; the extent of the damage was beyond satanic--what was even more worrying was that the cuts and stabs were measured, skilled, almost. The killer had done this before.
Liah was turned into Active Sin; white haired, blank but afraid.
It took her a while to get used to being an Active, and for a while, she was nothing but doubts. Doubts of what she was, why she was here, and why she couldn't remember.
But then she met Resh, and everything changed.
She fell in love.
Well hey there, the name's Hun and I've been wandering around for a long while but I was directed here by Reesa dearest. I'm around GMT and this site is bamf Let me show what I can do...
|
[/td][/tr][/table] made by Reesa [/center] |
|
