Elizabeth Petrova, 19, Vampire.

she likes summer storms
because the inside of her
is all torn up, she likes a
little chaos, a little recklessness,
a little bit of danger to
cope with the emptiness.

[Independent TVD OC roleplay blog, will roleplay with any fandom.]

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            Venice is one of the place Elena always wanted to visit, a dream she had when she was still a human. The chance finally came, ironically it came when she’s no longer the girl she used to be. Travelling around the world, it has become one of her way to spend the eternity. Wandering around the main street, Elena casted her gaze around her surrounding. In a moment like this she allowed herself to imagine as if she’s one of them, a human, a mortal

            Most of the burdens had been lifted from her shoulders, now her life seems more peaceful with being a normal college student who’s taking a vacation in this famous city. Turning around the corner of the street, she almost stumbled into someone but managed to avoid the person before it happens, thanks to her quick reflex. Giving the female an apologetic smile, Elena stepped back in politeness with a nervous laugh, “I’m— I’m sorry. That was my fault, the scene distracted me a lot.” 


            Oh, nothing like the smell of brutal irony in the morning when it comes to the apathy of tourists around this place; always so compelled by the enticing scenery, but completely oblivious to the heartbeats granting the prospect it’s vitality. Granted, of course, such triviality has never bothered Effy before (for she’s a bit of an admirer of the landscape herself)—then again, she wasn’t necessarily a big fan of being interrupted by entrapped newcomers, either. 

            Nevertheless, a benevolent curl of her lips dimmed her tarnished initial reaction as the apprised voice chaperoned her curiosity elsewhere; so distinctive, but so—distant. It held a different tone, like listening to a knockoff of your favourite song. Canting her head to the side, her eyebrows ceased with confusion; how is it possible to stare at her sister’s face but be greeted by a stranger? ”No, no. It’s alright. I don’t blame you; Venice is captivating.” Then again, she could be fabricating an alibi, never having recognized who she was actually talking to before; to lure in a prey, you have to seem just as naive as they are, right? ”How long have you been wandering around? It’s not that big of a city, I’m surprised I’ve only ran into you now.”



For a runner, there was something particularly liberating about relaxation. With shoes kicked off and limbs coiled to fit comfort, Katherine wallowed in every opportunity that she could lie manicured fingers upon. And, to spend it in known company as dependable as her own flesh and blood was the closest thing that the vampire would see to a blessing.

Hearkening, her sealed lips allowed her sister to steer this dialogue in whichever direction it may. Reacting through the subtle exchange of facial expressions, the latter half seeing her manicured brow rise, whilst the corners of upturned lips were stringed.

The evident surge of unspoken pride momentarily stunned Katherine; her elder sisters’ management skills seemingly a sight to see. She lightly hummed in approval, prior to articulating her opinion. "Sounds, to me, like you make quite the moderator. Besides, that’s what taking charge is all about. If you’re not irritated then you’ve not nothing to lose; power’s not really yours, is it?"

Words became spaced by the tilt of her glass, as she too drank the last remnants before her palm abandoned the emptied crystal. "—— So, who’s your playmate?" In re-evaluating memory, thoughtful curiosity lined her words as the vampire addressed the beginning of Effy’s intriguing monologue.

It was fair to say that chatter of men occupied her absorption more than that of women; and this stood as no more than a harmless fact.

Well, sometimes.

Her small chuckle echoed with amusement at her little sister’s innocent inquiry, merely because she suspected the crawling curiosity to stumble upon that one tiny little detail long before it was ever mused. Nostalgia tinted soft parallels of human days, seated on her bed having late-night gossip with a swooning Ellie telling her little sister all about her hushed secrets. In that moment, she was torn between the warmth of yearning benevolence and hollowing regret; had she ever departed and left her sister behind, the consequences would’ve been very different from now. 

Tongue darting over her bottom lip, she chewed on the inside of her cheeks and drained the ill-flavoured vibe away with a nonchalant shrug rolling of her shoulders. “Antonio Ferrari. He’s a guy I met a couple of decades ago or so, going through transition; such a vulnerability to claim invincibility. Poor guy had no idea what he was doing. I———helped him, a couple of times. Gratitude turned into cordiality, I guess.

"One of the things that qualifies him as good company is that he could just as easily use his music and charm to entrance people as vampires can with compulsion. If your stay is uninterrupted and I get that bloody intruder out of here, I’ll make sure to introduce you."

Oh, and how necessary her stay was to Effy—despite detrimental pride and delinquency biting down her tongue as a vexatious reminder of her unattainable right to necessitate quality-time.  


“so how’s your fandom doing?”




       “Hey, I brought you something nice and— tasty. That’s more than all my lovers get. You should consider yourself lucky.”

                                        [ The composure was kept upright, despite giving away a weapon of such destructiveness. Mayhap her voice quivered the slightest, but that could easily be brushed away as excitement; after all, she loved a delicate challenge. And if there was something she sincerely trusted Effy with, it probably was the promise of adrenaline and a fight that was worth the effort.

                     Thus is was not the sword that made her step back, but the sight of fear in the eyes of he who was fated to die and had been fated to die ever since he had crept up to her consciousness and stolen her attention. Dainty fingers clamped around her own weapon just a little tighter as she sought out for a way to withdraw. It was Effy; the sight of blood and death was able to bring her knees to collapse and her frame to fall within a mere blink of her dark eyelashes— had Effy not been. Oh, she certainly was not a safe haven and Lilith would have been a fool if she had decided to cling onto her in belief that the vampire might, somehow, rescue her. Quite the opposite was the case. She might have chosen to trust Effy as much as a human could trust a vampire without falling for a sickness called stupidity, but Effy was and always would be a monster.

              Just because Lilith considered herself to be one
                                                                                              — ( as well ) —
              did not mean that she would ignore Effy’s being.

                     The curve of her lips faded and crumbled while Effy paid her attention to the young lad. Her gaze lingered on the prey’s eyes, observed how the light slowly vanished into a sleepy mist. Had she focused on Effy, on the one who murdered, she would have found herself more intrigued than she wished to be. Her mind was different to others; murder— and oh, what beautifully murderous scene she watched —had her fingers cramping in lust and her pupils dilating. There was a morbid eroticism in the way how a seemingly innocent creature could turn into a beast of such power that even strong men bent and broke under brute touch. And watching such pleasantly bloody murder almost equalled voyeurism. ]


       [ The smile she had allowed to fade a few moments ago was urgently pulled back onto her lineaments as Effy turned around and a brief nod was given; the simplicity of her movements was tense, though, and her gaze kept flickering over to the lifeless body on the ground to keep herself distracted and clean of visible desire.

                                 Her feet took a few steps towards the corpse and she got down onto her knees to pull the plaything back up onto his limp feet. If it lay there for too long, it would begin to stink. And no matter how free she always thought herself to be, how self-referred and self-centered, both her occupation and past had turned a piece of her into a servant. Keeping the body upright with her hand clasped around his throat and last bits of blood splattered over her pale skin, she looked back over her shoulder. ]

                                                         “——-I promise I’m not silly enough to actually, properly knock myself out. —Meanwhile, shall I burn the body and clean up the mess you made? Or do you, I don’t know, like it this way? Who knows— some actually prefer to have blood all over the floor, I assume. Although I must say, I do not.”

          "I do not like my place reeking of Death, Lilith, who do you take me to be? A killer, that I am, but not a bloody swine. How do you think I’ve lived all those years smelling nice enough to keep you around? Notwithstanding that you’re supposed to clean up the mess I’ve made, of course, I can easily just—compel me a nice maid for the night.” A cheeky smile curled up her lips as audaciousness threw a wink in her direction; always the flirt, aren’t you, Effy? Although, if it’s any consolation to decency and virtue, she only sunk as low as she was allowed to whenever she was surrounded by beauty so divine that only looking at it taunted her brain.

          Spinning on her heels, she wandered her way back to the bathroom, not even bothering to lock the door—then again, when has she ever?—and stripped out of her clothes, eager to rid herself from the crusting stains. Keep in mind that it was not the swift stains of crimson ruining her white shirt that bothered her, but the fervor impatience beating against her head, waiting for her little escapade to begin. Her hunger for the sword’s touch beneath her fingertips was almost as strong as her crave for blood, which was ironic, for both required bloodshed one way or another.

          Not that she’d ever add the graceful killer to either outcomes.

          Temperate droplets swaying down every inch of her body hastened her shower, cutting her usual 30 minute policy to a not-even-15-minutes policy. So much for subtly, she thought to herself as she slipped on a pair of jeans, a shirt and the leather jacket that she so gracefully stole from the Brooding Salvatore——although she could have very well handled the discipline just as well in a dress.

          "I take it we’re driving there?" She called out, grabbing the sword and her car keys. "I—don’t know how you feel about Impalas, but that’s all I’ve got as a chaperon for the day. Despite the fact that no one should ever even thwart such a car."

it’s not what they call you, but what you respond to.

                                    “What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
                                       By any other name would smell as sweet.” 

She can only recall one voice, so distinct and angry in the back of her head, calling her Elizabeth; her father’s. It’s as if he has stained her name with his unexplained resentment and shameless acrimony, condemning her with a name that no longer felt fit, a name that punches disgust in the pits of her stomach and laces affliction within each and every hidden bruise that no longer traces her carapace but wanders through her memories in the silence of the night. 

Her mother used to call her Ellie, so did Katherine. And whenever she introduced herself to people, she was always introduced as ‘Ellie’ —just to make sure that no one else ever uttered that Godforsaken name as well.

Regardless, even her name sounded mellifluous rolling off Nicholas’ tongue. She wondered if that was yet another trick of his accent’s; Elizabeth, Liz, Beth, Ellie—they all had the same effect on her when proclaimed by his voice. However, he did claim that none of them sounded fitting, none of them were enough to capture that aspect that he seemed so mesmerized by. Granted, she declared him a man of madness and faultless charm, but her heart still fluttered at thought of him seeing her as someone else, someone better, someone enough; such an unusual ideology, yet comparable to serenity it was ecstasy.

Oh, and how did she want to share that with the whole world, to rub it in her father’s face. But she couldn’t. To live they had to live in secrecy. Unless you don’t count her telling Katherine as secrecy.

How could such an enchanting feeling be prohibited in her father’s eyes? Or maybe she was too hypnotized to realize that atrociousness was disguised in the form of elegant grace and not the other way around, but that was highly doubtful. To judge someone by the language they spoke was beyond her; so what if he spoke English and she spoke Bulgarian? In the end, the meaning behind ‘I love you’ still remains just as strong in either languages. 

In fact, Elizabeth was so very enthralled by his language that she was very keenon learning new words everyday. They shared phrases as simple as ‘Hello, my name is Ellie’ and 'Kiss me’, and as complex as literature can be. She was also a little jealous that he could fluently talk in her language and she couldn’t; like he was a part of her world and she was yet to find the key to his. 

One day, she came across a word that she couldn’t  quite comprehend; efflorescence. With a little sparkle of meddling eagerness taunting at the back of her head, she made a mental note to ask Nicholas about it. And so, she waited until time welcomed her with greeting arms to their refuging hour and tranquilizing escape, his smile proving once again that not even flowers held a chance rivaling against him for luminous allurement. 

"It means flowering, to blossom.” He said, fingertips whisking a certain rose away and lacing it with her hair. “It kind of reminds me of you. You know, because I’ve seen you bloom. You were this little girl who lost her way back home but was never really bothered by it, once upon a  time, and now you’re—you; exquisiteness personified. You’re Efflorescent Ellie. Efflorescent Ellie. —…It suits you more than any name has ever tried to.”

That day, she skipped back home with a face so red it growled against Spring’s breeze and heartbeats so fast that seconds left breathlessly with aching feet. Oh, how wonderful it was to touch such a thrilling feeling so purely. And oh, how ironic it was to know the difference between the redness of a slap against her cheek, the crimson droplets left scattered against her carapace and the anger burning through her father’s face opposing to the scarlet kiss flaming her cheeks and the rush of her heart promoted by love and not fear. Or was it fear?

But there was no time for doubting questions, she needed to find her sister and tell her all about her little escapade, tell her all about her secret name.

Then came Saturday Morning with sleep-dusted Katherine looking for her big sister as she wandered from her room to another—completely oblivious of her parents’ presence—almost calling her 'efflorescent ellie'. Then, her eyes fell upon her father’s questioning stare as soon as ‘eff’ rolled off her tongue, waiting for her to finish. In that very moment, realization struck her with the consequences of her ever finishing that word; father dearest kneeling beside her asking her what it meant and who she heard it from. And so, even though she started off with ‘eff’, she tried to recover with saying ‘ellie’, resulting the whole thing to come out as ‘effy’.

And ever since then. that’s what Elizabeth responded to.

                                             beg, p l e a d, SCREAM.
                                           sorry I’m not l i s t e n i n g.

                                            welcome to your v i c e.
                                              good luck with [ life ]
                                     cause you can’t kill me that easily.

· [ musings; ] ·
music player codey
viwan themes