Anzhelika

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• Name: Margareth Anzhelika Malvagna The Malvagna matriarch was a sentimental woman who thought it best to name her eldest child after both she and the patriarch's mothers. She is rarely called shorten versions of her name except by those closest to her with variants such as Margo or Anzhel though if one listened to the whispers on the street she is frequently referred to as Principessa. Age: 26 She appears younger at first glance but there is an air of maturity about her that surpasses her present age. Relationship Status: Single Never has a man attempted to win her affections; something that is not easily gained. However, due to an arrangement made long before her birth her hand is promised to another. Something she will never discuss or admit to openly. Occupation: Lounge singer, pianist Trained on a professional level to sing and play piano. She works in one of her father's many bar lounges but it only serves as a cover for her darker trade; a natural born killer and her father's favorite weapon. Though this is mostly a ruse as she is presently running the Family. Species: Dracone Human at first glance, there is a predatory grace to her that often eludes to something lurking beneath the surface. It is not easily ascertained as her species has adapted enough to survive where many of her kind have perished. She is one of the last remaining few with her bloodline being traced back to the Dacian Empire. Sexuality: Unknown Due to her role as one of her father's prized weapons, her sexuality has not been explored. She is more inclined to socialize with men than with woman even if her eyes tend to stray toward the fairer sex when she is trapped in unwanted conversations. Personality: Reserved Margareth is a woman who keeps many of her emotions guarded either as a result of her true occupation. When her guard is let down she is very warm and protective of those she holds dear; fiercely loyal to the point she quite altruistic in the most dangerous of situations. Once her trust is broken she can become as dark and as violent as the men in her family.

  Bodytype: Hourglass She is equal parts bust and hips, athletic in appearance with a soft layer of fat to soften muscle definition. She is appealing to the eye and carries her weight well. Complexion: Olive Her time in the sun is spent wisely, an even tan with flawless skin. Physical afflictions: None at present Give her some. Hair: Auburn, reddish brown Her hair is thick yet soft to the touch, well groomed and falls just above the small of her back. It is often kept down or pulled into a bun. Prized Possessions: Pending Gifts given without want for something in return. Eyes: Pale green More text here Attire: Varies More text here Tattoos: None Give her some Stature and gait:Confident, graceful...fluid More text here Scent: Honey and chamomile More text here Scars: Along her back Faded whip lashes decorate her back in crisscrossing fashion. A punishment delivered five years ago for stepping into the darker aspects of the family business.

• Journal

  • Dance With Me

    
    
    [Place Holder]

    
    
    

    

  • Once Upon A December

    
    
    It was a cold day in December when he brought you home. Do you remember?
    I am certain you do, just as I remember the sights and smells of a time long before the world we live in now; before the heady cigar smoke and linger metallic taste in the air. Before the chords of music that poured from the piano.
    
    I remember seeing you cowering upon the floor at his feet. I remember the fear the permeated the air, the way your eyes went wide in a near pleading manner as words eluded you. I remember the fire the raced across my skin and the pain that followed as I threw myself over you. Shielding you from a reprimand he had no reason to give. Do you remember my promise to you? The words I whispered before I stood to face him. To face our nightmare. A small victory in a much larger war...and I find myself wondering what would have happened to you...to us if I had not faced him that once upon a time in December.
    
    I write this because it has been five years since that time. Since that day you were brought into my life...since I claimed you as my own, my son. I have trained you to the best of my ability and still I worry that what I have taught you is not enough.
    I want you to be strong, I want you to know that you are more than what you think you are...and so I have decided that tomorrow and the day after we will walk through the Historic District, visiting places and seeing the sights.
    
    We will enjoy ourselves and celebrate our time as a family.
    
    Perhaps we will even be fortunate enough to make some new friends a long the way.
    
    However, for now...I will let you sleep my sweet son...tomorrow is a new day.