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┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐ Sleepwalking 0:45 ━❍─────── -3:56 ↻ ⊲ Ⅱ ⊳ ↺ VOLUME: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100% └────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┘ ───── ❝I don’t want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them. ❞ ───── ⊱ ━━━━━━━━ ༻✦༺ ━━━━━━━━ ⊰ 𝑰. 𝑮 𝒆 𝒏 𝒆 𝒓 𝒂 𝒍 𝑰 𝒏 𝒇 𝒐 𝒓 𝒎 𝒂 𝒕 𝒊 𝒐 𝒏 ⚝Name⚝ ❥Gizelle Monee Gray ⚝Age/Age Range⚝ ❥Physical:23-32/Actual:210 ⚝Gender⚝ ❥Female ⚝Race/Ethnicity⚝ ❥Human/British ⚝Birthdate⚝ ❥January21st, 1820 ⚝Zodiac Sign⚝ ❥Aquarius ⚝Occupation⚝ ❥Depends on how long she’s stable in one town. ⊱ ━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━ ⊰ 𝑰𝑰. 𝑨 𝒑 𝒑 𝒆 𝒂 𝒓 𝒂 𝒏 𝒄 𝒆 ✦Eye Color✦ ❥Green ✧Eye Shape✧ ❥Almond ✦Hair Color✦ ❥Depends on the place she’s staying, but mainly dirty blonde ✧Hair Length✧ ❥Shoulder or collar-bone length ✦Height✦ ❥5’2” ✧Weight✧ ❥121lbs ───── ❝ I’m tired of myself tonight, i should like to be someone else.❞ ───── ✦Complexion✦ ❥Fair ✧Birthmarks✧ ❥A small diamond shape on the nape of her neck ✦Tattoo/s✦ ❥None ✧Piercing/s✧ ❥None ✦Body Type✦ ❥HourGlass ✧ Fashion Style/Theme ✧ ❥Bohemian, Vintage, and Casual ┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐ ───── ❝ Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic.❞ ───── └────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┘ ┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐ ───── ❝ I represent to you all the sins you were never able to commit.❞ ───── └────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┘ ⊱ ━━━━━━━━ ༻✦༺ ━━━━━━━━ ⊰ 𝑰𝑰𝑰. 𝑷 𝒆 𝒓 𝒔 𝒐 𝒏 𝒂 𝒍 𝒊 𝒕 𝒚 ❀Likes❀ ❥Cool days ❥Flanell anything ❥Gin ❥A good book ❀Dislikes❀ ❥Paintings ❥Vampires ❥Cat’s ❥Plants and Flowers ❀Biggest Pet Peeve/s❀ ❥Line cutters ❥The sounds of drills ❥People who talk over you ❥People who talk in the third person ❥When someone wakes you in the middle of the night and is like “Aw, did i wake you?” ❀Openness❀ ❥7/10 ❀Confidence❀ ❥ 9/10 ❀Boldness❀ ❥ 7/10 ❀Frankness❀ ❥ 6/10 ❀Moodiness❀ ❥ 4/10 ⊱ ━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━ ⊰ 𝑰𝑽. 𝑭 𝒂 𝒎 𝒊 𝒍 𝒚 ☆Mother☆ ❥Unknown ☆Father☆ ❥Dorian Gray (Yes, THE Dorian Gray) ☆Sibling/s☆ ❥None that she knows of ☆Cousins/Relatives☆ ❥Same as above ☆Spouse☆ ❥Byron McIntosh (Deceased) ☆Offspring/s☆ ❥None ⊱ ━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━ ⊰ 𝑽. 𝑯 𝒆 𝒂 𝒍 𝒕 𝒉 ⚝Addiction⚝ ❥Wax/Dab/Shatter/THC Oil and Acid/LSD ⚝Discomforts⚝ ❥Neck pain ❥Burning scars on her left calf she acquired recently ⚝Injuries⚝ ❥Recently got burned on her left calf ⚝Blood Type⚝ ❥AB+ ⚝Disorders/Illnesses/Disabilities⚝ ❥Multiple Personality Disorder ⚝Allergies⚝ ❥Strawberries ⊱ ━━━━━━━━ ༻✦༺ ━━━━━━━━ ⊰ 𝑽𝑰. 𝑴 𝒊 𝒔 𝒄 𝒆 𝒍 𝒍 𝒂 𝒏 𝒆 𝒐 𝒖 𝒔 ✦Favorite Color✦ ❥Red ✧Favorite Food✧ ❥Authentic Margherita Pizza ✦Favorite Drink✦ ❥ White Russian with extra Gin ✧Favorite Song✧ ❥ I'm Not Okay by MCR ✦Hobby/-ies✦ ❥ Too many to list, but she does enjoy reading and drawing ✦Relationship Status✦ ❥ Single ✧IQ✧ ❥122 ✦EQ✦ ❥142 ✧Passion/Goals✧ ❥Those are varying on the time period written. ✦Forte/Talent✦ ❥Those are varying depending on the time period written. ✧Pet/s✧ ❥Australian Shepard named Jax ⊱ ━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━ ⊰ 𝑽𝑰𝑰. 𝑩 𝒊 𝒐 𝒈 𝒓 𝒂 𝒑 𝒉 𝒚 Birth Not long after Gizelle was born, about six months tops, she was given up by her real father Dorian Gray. In his eye’s she was too much responsibility, even more, so a weapon to use against him in any means, and for that reason, he needed to keep her safe. Once he had made sure she landed at a good orphanage, he knew she would be adopted immediately. She was a gorgeous infant, and very perceptive at that. Once she had been set up in the nursery, and Dorian could see she had an immaculate Charge Nurse and he turned and walked away, with a few tears streaming down his face. Childhood By the time she had reached two years of age, she had been adopted by a lowly family. They weren’t the richest of people, but what they lacked in riches they gave back in love. To the standards she was brought up in, she had a wonderful childhood. The neighboring kids were of the same wealth as her so she never really felt out of place until she went into town. There she was gawked at, frowned at, sneered at, and accused of stealing things. But one day all of that changed, she was about 8, and she was stopped in the middle of a crowd by two burly men. They pulled her to the farthest side of the road and set her back down on her feet. Once they moved out of the way, she saw the most dashing family being guided through the town square. She had heard of them, the McIntosh’s. They were the richest family in the countryside, and they basically ran the entire town. But the young boy, maybe a few years older than her, seemed different. And when she caught his eye, it put her on cloud 9. It seemed that day had changed her entire outlook on life. She went through the rest of her childhood in a mere daze of love, never really caring about the incessant negative rambling of anyone around her. Teen Her teen years were a bit better than her childhood. Due to her love for knowledge as well as her beauty she was favorable among her economy of people as a possible wife. But she only had eyes for one person, and one alone. Byron McIntosh. Of course, she always knew someone of such opposite classes could never be together, but she was always one to believe in miracles. She spent the next few years being courted by every available gentleman in her small section of town and even some of the middle-class families pushed their boys to start courting her. Her education continued and she began to excel in multiple studies, even the foreign ones that people thought were useless. She continued her studies and shunning away from the advances of multiple boys and men alike. Adult-hood She had since moved out of her parents' home and had saved enough money to move to the outskirts of the middle-class part of town. There she worked in a bar, which was probably worse than when she went to the market as a child. She was given great tips and made a few nice friends. One night, she was walking home alone when she ran into someone. A familiar face from her childhood. Byron McIntosh. And from that moment on, it was a secretive whirlwind romance. Secret? Of course. She was a barmaid, and he was a Nobleman. There would be no way to continue their relationship if it was found out by someone from his side of the family or town. Within a few years, their love had grown, Byron could no longer deny the amount of love that he felt for Gizelle. And on one sunny day, he took her to the hillside a few miles from his home and set themselves a picnic. Once they had eaten, and they were watching the sunset, he got down on one knee and began to recite a heartfelt speech of their time together. And once the I Do’s had been exchanged the ring had been slipped on her finger, her life was complete. She was on cloud 9 once again and nothing could ruin this. Oh but it did. Within a split second, Byron’s eye had been shot through with an arrow. With a blood-curdling scream coming from Gizelle he dropped into her lap and she held his bloodied body close to her. As she held him for hours, the gorgeous colors of the sunset turning to night, tears streamed down her face. Blood was soaking through her dress, staining her hands, face and hair, but all she could do was sit here and make sure Byron was okay, and not alone. Within minutes she heard the dogs, they were coming for her. They sounded exactly as he had described them, and she knew what she had to do. By morning she had dug him a proper grave and made a headstone right outside her home. Her home...She burned it. Letting the area catch on fire, leaving the grave untouched. That was when she started making her travels around the world, running into trouble along the way. Namely, a Witch from Romania named Olga. Unfortunately due to the nature of her travels to get to the country and the little amount of sustenance she had in her system, she was not in the best of moods. Let’s just say she wasn’t too kind to the old lady. Olga, of course, did not take kindly to this. She used her powers to search the woman’s bloodline for any horrible ailment from her past. And then she found it, her father’s curse. How befitting of such a beautiful woman. Olga snickered and went back to her cottage. She made the painting and stashed it away, passing it down to her children and so on and so forth, to keep the woman on her toes of course. OH YES! The curse! Same as her father’s, to obtain her immortality and never reveal her true age, she is to never lay eyes on the painting the old crone had cursed. 100 years After many years of emotional and mental trauma that she never let go of, she had begun to do unnatural things. Or...At least she thought it was her. She had learned of a different side of her that seemed to arise at night. She called herself Yara, and she seemed to be very...Unsettled. She was the version of Gizelle that allowed her to settle her anger and pain from all the years of psychological torment she went through. In short, on her 100-year mark, she became a murderer. Of course, it was easy for her to get away with it. First, not many female serial killers existed, and on top of that, females were still considered delicate and fragile at the time. Secondly, she was beautiful, extremely gorgeous by 1920’s standards. And with her being a single young woman, no one expected her much of anything. Yara was able to get a lot done, other than the constant moving around. But other than that Yara enjoyed her version of the life. Gizelle on the other hand enjoyed her life in a manner. Did she work as a Flapper in a local bar that catered to the rich and wealthy, maybe trying to fill a void? But she would eventually get back to her normal self. Maybe.