Katelyn — Roleplayer Guild

Name: Elizabeth Parker

Age: 24

Gender: Female

Description/Appearance:

Weapons: Pocket knife and zippo lighter

Equipment: Small back pack.
Small can of hair spray
Drivers License
3 protein bars
Band-aids, neosporin and advil
2 pairs of socks
Chapstick
Small flashlight
Bottle of water

Personality: Elizabeth is a scrapper by nature being raised in a family of four brothers and being in the middle. She is sarcastic and witty, quick to move into leadership if no one else will and tried to utilize everything around her to help others. She has a rather positive disposition about life in general and fears very little, her brothers putting her through hell as a kid and watching her mother die slowly from a car accident they were in together left her emotionally void.

Skills:
Strength: 4
Stamina: 6
Health: 4
Dexterity: 5
Sense: 2
Parkour: 7

England had little to offer in the way of entertainment and yet anywhere Ashtaroth was she seemed capable of creating and sustain her own. A long blood red nail twirled through her chestnut locks as she watched various males and females wonder by her on their way toward the river that sat just below the overhang. Unsuspecting humans milling about and enjoying each others company while sneaking glances her way in morbid curiosity of who she was and why she was dressed so well with seemingly no where to go. A smile touched her mouth at the private party her general was having, his ways so refined compared to Dagon's and yet she preferred less finesse and more action, but that was the aggressive side of her father bleeding out through her depraved thoughts. She waved at a group of younger males that slowed just before her, one of the larger ones gaining his bravado and stepping out from the group to walk toward her.

"No further please," she whispered and held up her hand, the soft flow of her red silk gown drawing his eyes to move as the fabric did. He stood ever so still as she continued to twirl her hair, her own gaze moving to see what his friends thought of her invisible power over him. All men wanting something beautiful to dangle in front of their friends, their appreciation not for the object of desire, but for the resounding edification received in their own character for owning something better than they. She tilted her head, allowing her hair to drape down her feminine frame, her heels three inches with long silk straps running up to just above her shapely calf. No one spoke a word as if time stood still and perhaps for them it did, but she toyed silently with the idea of marching each of them to their death with the desires of her nefarious spirit before realizing that she would be late.

Letting them go she giggled softly, letting her fingers brush the chest of the large male who awaited her invitation to come closer. She whispered an apology and moved through the night, her body nothing more than a soft pale crimson smoke as she traveled to the Museum where the council meeting would take place. She felt Mephistos near and smelled blood in the air, assuming that the vamps had a buffet of sorts or her general had taken it upon himself to wreak a little havoc that evening. Something about the later observance made her growl with hunger. Violence was like a fine wine and her appetite grew with each occurrence she was afforded. The Museum itself was magnificent, the cream colored tiles etched with gold writing spelled out the tale of the gods from a story in Greek Mythology she'd read over the shoulder of the man who'd penned it. The Latin inscription was breathtaking and yet her mind moved from the beauty around in her search of the divine smell of aggression.

She slipped into the great hall and turned a sharp right to enter the room where the demon's would meet before the council meeting only to find Mephistos already there. She closed the door behind her, pressing her back against the solid structure and allowing her hands to remain locked behind her as she gave him the once over, looking along his suit and making sure that he fit the part so perfectly that people welcomed his ideas and thoughts because why the fuck wouldn't you? A smirk touched her perfect mouth and she moved toward him with her head held high, circling his chair and leaning over the back of him while he read his paper. The small scar just below his left eye was a battle scar that he earned through bravado and cunningness. She liked it. Her job was to divert attention for him and keep everyone nodding their heads for the power couple that they were as rulers.

"You missed a spot," Ash whispered as she licked the sticky pungent blood from below his ear, nipping at the lobe once before standing up and calming her spirits. She moved toward a full-length window and looked out at the grounds, putting her back to him and showing off the beauty of her figure where very little silk offered coverage. Her voice was all business, but her demeanor ached for adventure. "Tonight should be quite interesting, old friend. The Circle of Elders has been busy and I do believe our friends of other races will be most interested in some of the information I've uncovered."

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