Maria Lucia Petrov 267 ~ Female ~ Gray Fox Lycanthrope ~ Nina Dobrev
NICKNAMES (if any) Mercy, Luminita (a pet name from Mal meaning “little light”)
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION Mercutia is a petite girl who can often be found with a tiny smile on her lips. Standing only at around 5’5”, she looks as though a stiff breeze could easily blow her over. Looks can be deceiving, however, as she’s got an inner strength that easily matches (and surpasses) that of human bodybuilders.
Dark brown locks cascade down her back in gentle waves, though she occasionally throws it up or straightens it, depending on her mood. Her chocolatey doe eyes are more than a little expressive - they show her smiles, her rage, and her curiosity almost better than the rest of her face does.
Much to Mal’s chagrin, Mercy has a solid fashion sense and is more than capable of keeping up with the times. While she knows he’d much rather continue wearing the same things he used to wear while fighting for the Holy Roman Empire, she keeps their wardrobes stocked with only the most fashionable items.
PERSONALITY Subtlety is Mercy’s friend, though she can occasionally be crass. She does not trust easily, but once earned, she is fiercely loyal. Her love is only given to one mate til death do them part. She chose Tiarnan Maol Eoin over two centuries ago and has not regretted that decision for a single moment since. He’s the only one who can ever fully handle her when the curse shades her vision in red and she becomes volatile, which can happen at the drop of a hat if she hasn’t fed in awhile.
To those who end up on her bad side, she is a vindictive, vengeful bitch. Despite her nickname, she rarely shows any of her victims mercy. That’s not to say she doesn’t have fun, of course. Hunting gives her great pleasure, and often puts her into a heightened sense of glee. She also has an odd fascination with churches (namely the idea of organized religion, and the music they play during ceremonies), perhaps because they remind her of Mal. Her faith and belief have always been in the Great Mother, just as she was raised.
Despite her mood swings, she has a sense of humor, especially after feeding when she’s not dealing with the pain of the hunger she was cursed with many years ago. Unfortunately, her humor can sometimes be a bit dark - the way she shows that she likes people is by attempting to find and press each and every one of their buttons.
THEME SONG
RACIAL ABILITIES HEIGHTENED CAPABILITIES Mercy has heightened senses, agility, and endurance. She is significantly stronger and faster than normal humans. She can reach up to a speed of around 35mph when running in either form. This speed can only be reached in a sprint, which she tires from after thirty minutes. She can jump up to fifteen feet in distance, and five feet in height from a stand-still.
HEALING While regular weapons can cause her injury, she will heal most wounds given time. Any wound caused by a mercurial weapon, however, is a completely different story.
ALPHA POTENTIAL As a Lycanthrope with the Alpha potential in her, Mercy has the ability to partially shift. She can lengthen her claws and teeth at will if the need arises, or grow large ears and a tail should she feel so inclined. Because of her Alpha potential, she also has the use of a third form - the bipedal, hybrid form.
STRENGTHS • Superhuman Strength • Speed • Endurance • Heightened Senses • Rapid Healing • Virtually Indestructible • Sense some other Supernaturals
SKILLS Adaptation Blending in to her surroundings has helped her to survive as long as she has. More often than not, she dresses in layers simply in case she needs to discard an article to help clear her trail. She has also had to restart her life hundreds of times, when it became necessary to move lest the people around her realize she hasn’t aged. Moving is now a cinch.
Tracking Mercy’s keen nose has always been her greatest asset, which she uses to her advantage in the career field she’s found herself in over the years. Using that in conjunction with her natural predatory nature, she is quite the capable tracker. She’s been known to find tracks after a week has passed and others consider the trail cold.
Organist Mercy’s obsession with churches and the music within them has caused her to learn the instrument found in most holy establishments: the organ. She hasn’t composed any original pieces, but she can play many songs by heart and tends to toss in a few extra notes where they don’t belong if she feels the song would sound better that way.
Manipulation She is very good at getting what she wants when she wants it. Whether by intimidation, seduction, or seeming so much less than she is, she’s not opposed to utilizing any method (short of begging, of course) of getting her way.
LANGUAGES Romanian (natural), Latin, Turkish, Irish, Spanish, French, English, and German.
PERSONAL POSSESSIONS Mercy does not have many personal possessions that are incredibly important to her. She still has the first necklace Tiarnan gave her (a simple leather cord with a fox burned into a wooden chip), but the cord is wrapped a few times around her wrist as a bracelet now and she has since lacquered the wood to keep it protected from the ravages of time.
FAMILY TIES Tiarnan Maol Eoin a.k.a. Trenton Malone -- Mate
HISTORY Mercutia Sorina Rosetti was born in 1748, in a hamlet on the outskirts of Bucharest. It was a little town, a quiet village - every day like the one before. Her skulk had worked hard to make the village a safe place for all Lycans, regardless of type. She had no dreams of ever leaving until shortly after her 18th birthday, when she met the most amazing man she’d ever encountered: Tiarnan Maol Eoin. His was a dark past, and a long one, but despite their obvious differences, Mercutia fell head over heels for the immortal. Thankfully, he seemed to feel the same way, and all of the sudden, her little hamlet felt stifling.
Unfortunately, an old enemy of Mal’s - a witch from Brazil by the name of Zaul - tracked him to the small village where he and Mercutia were falling further and further in love. Rather than attacking Tiarnan himself, Zaul went for Mercutia. He cursed the Lycan who would dare to love a vampire - an undead creature who murdered guiltlessly. Using blood magic, he forced an elixir down Mercutia’s throat that would cause her to see things as her lover did, to feel the pang of hunger at the smallest drop of human blood and the need to consume it lest the smell drive her mad.
What happened next should have been expected by the witch, but his hubris had got the better of him. In her blood-crazed post-ritual state, Mercy lunged for the first source of blood she could sink her new fangs into: Zaul. Tiarnan arrived just in time to watch the witch’s body hit the floor, his blood staining Mercy’s lips. With the witch who’d created the curse dead, there was no promise of ever getting it reversed.
Mercy spent nearly an entire month in her fox form, retreating to the base instincts of the predator within for some sense of comfort. The meat of her prey satisfied her stomach, but only once she’d lapped up their blood did she feel truly full. When she emerged from the woods near her hamlet, she was both surprised and relieved to find that Tiarnan had not left without her.
Although she is somewhat less mentally stable than she was before the curse, she has adjusted as best she can. The curse works together well enough with her natural Lycan self, it seems, but the initial clash left her scarred and prone to mood swings. Still, no matter what kind of trouble she gets into, Tiarnan has always stayed by her side, and her feelings for him never faded.
She works with him on occasion, though most of his employers don’t seem to like her for some reason or another. While it used to bother her, she has given up caring what others think of her and uses the time he’s gone to play around in her canine form or snag jobs of her own. Because her own name is not quite so common these days, she has chosen a more suitable name - Maria Petrov - for the time being.
Standing somewhat back from the main street in a mostly suburban area of town, rest a large cathedral. Its spire pointed directly into the heavens, but the topmost point of its cross didn’t even come close to the clouds. Still, the massive stained glass window facing the street was enough to catch Mercutia’s eye, even as the rumble of hundreds of people standing up echoed out from its open door. A playful smile tugged at the corners of her lips and, with a quiet giggle of delight, she altered her trajectory and bounded towards the entrance.
She wasn’t really dressed in her Sunday best, but her outfit wouldn’t make her stand out too terribly among the sheep within. A pair of grey jeans hugged her long legs, the calf-high boots giving her backside more shape as she moved. The silvery v-neck top she’d chosen for the day flowed slightly against her chest in the wind, but the lower portion remained stationary, tucked beneath the snug fit of her maroon leather jacket.
Clutching the purse dangling at her side tightly, she zipped up the steps, not thinking about who might see her for the time being. A song was just beginning inside and she wanted desperately to be a part of it. As she reached the door, she let off on the gas a little before easing her way inside, quiet as a mouse. There were two elderly gentlemen lurking near the back of the sanctuary, pamphlets in their hands. She could smell the eagerness upon them - it was an almost sour smell, but in a good way.
Her tongue darted across her lips, wetting them as she fought off the urge to give their pulses a real reason to rise. She was here for the music, nothing more. One of the men noticed her as he turned and she could hear his heart skip a beat with fright.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. I heard the music…” she explained, her voice sweet and quiet. A look of hope shone in her eyes as the second usher turned to see who was speaking, a look of surprise on his face.
“Ohh, well come on it. The service is almost over, ma’am, but please -” the first man began, motioning towards the pews where hundreds of folks were standing, their voices rising above the drone of the organ in praise to their god. “- come on in and be welcome. The Lord doesn’t mind a bit of tardiness now and then,” he chuckled.
A part of her wanted nothing more than to tell them exactly what she thought of their Lord, but she wanted to sing and dance more. She knew the song that was being sung currently and, ducking her head in a quick nod, she scooted further in so that she could join the herd. There were no people dancing to the song, and Mercutia now noticed that there was a certain passion lacking from the voices. Frowning, she let the pamphlet slip from her fingers as she let the sound of the organ begin to overtake her.
First her hands began to move, weaving through the air as she walked forward. Then her hips joined in and she began to shimmy and twirl down the aisle. Her voice, usually quiet, joined in to the song, quickly becoming one of the more powerful voices in the crowd. Voices in the back pews began to quiet as they saw her singing and dancing her way towards the front, but after an encouraging “Halleluia - the spirit’s movin’ someone today! Ha ha!” from the preacher, they started up again, this time with a bit more enthusiasm.
When at last the song ended, Mercy was grinning from ear to ear. Even the feel of the preacher’s hand on her shoulder didn’t dampen her face too much as she quickly slipped out of his grip and threw herself into the front pew. The woman nearest her had a pamphlet and after a gesture from Mercy, offered it over to the giddy hybrid before forcing her family to scoot further down the pew, away from the odd girl. If Mercy cared whatsoever, she didn’t show it. Her eyes shifted away from the woman in an instant, and down to the slightly crumpled papers in her hand so that she could see just how many songs were left in the service. Hopefully this hadn’t been the last.
OOC Name: Sabre Age: Old enough Do you play another Charrie here at VF?: Adreana Zelati and Cassandra Jones How did you find us?: I live with the site creator. What is your preferred method of communication?: Skype/ AIM/ Violet, you know where I sleep at night...
Lillianna Dragonè Admin
Join date : 2014-12-11 Posts : 53 Reputation : 2 Species : Vampire Group : The Tribe
Subject: Re: Maria Petrov Sun Feb 22, 2015 12:42 pm
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