Gaian name: Juliet

Character name: Anya

Race: Vampire

Age: 271, she has the physical looks of a late teenager [18-22]

Gender: Female

Wepons: One short dagger made with a pure silver blade, that she keeps strapped to her thigh with a ordinary leather garter. She holds one concealed weapon, a small handgun with a six bullet magazine of bullets specially crafted to hold UV filaments.

Powers: Before she was bitten her caregiver, a relatively insane alchemist bent upon creating his own fame, discovered a recessive gene that Anya carried, he named it "luciana." His own greed allowed him to exceed his care giving bounds, he injected her with a gene mutator of radiation. Unbelievably and painfully, Anya developed the odd ability to manipulate the light around her.

Bio: Orphaned, and unwanted she became the ward of a wealthy alchemist. He granted her with the ability to manipulate light. She lived a rather closed life, until she gained the gull to wonder about the old urban city that she resided in.
Anya huddled under a dark umbrella. The dusk light reached her eyes, illuminating them with a fiery light. It was time to go home, she did not dare to dwell in the darkness she knew not of. Ten blocks until she reached her ancient oak door. The faces of the derelict humans that walked the damp streets loomed up at her, she quickened her pace, but it was not long until she felt a pair of eyes on her back. She sprinted, five blocks, three, two. Then hands.
They grasped her right shoulder and dragged her into an alley next to her building.
It was a ragged man, dark, yet his eyes burned with a fury.
She tried to scream, but was paralyzed with fear. Her body frozen, helpless like her mind.
The man seized her around the neck and roughly pulled the cloth from her neck, parting his lips to reveal a glimmer of white canine he sunk his teeth into her soft flesh allowing her to mutter one word “please.”
A great suction took every ounce of life from her body, leaving her uncurious and crumpled like a rag doll on the dirty ground.

Her caregiver found her two days later,
Scooping her up in his arms he cradled her body in his arms, the felt her now pale white skin.
Anya awoke to find herself in a shockingly bright room. The instant ping of light gave her a splitting headache.
Her life from that moment on was spent in the dark, with the revulsion of her caregiver, no longer able to face light he so gave her the power to control.
Almost a year to the day of her attack her house was broken into. Her caregiver rushed down into the darkness where she lay, warning her to run, leave and escape while she could.
But it was too late, men filed down the narrow staircase wielding large guns, they apprehended the caregiver, throwing him to the ground.
The clear leader of the group held his gun to the caregivers temple, “Tell us how you did it damnit!” He growled in voice that was less human and more animalistic.
The caregiver said nothing, his lip tight.
Anya looked in fear, she knew they meant her.
The leader motioned to the men next to him, and then to Anya. They pulled a rod from within their coats and broke it against their legs, a light glimmered from within and grew bright. Anya’s vision blurred and her eyes teared, this was the fight time she has seen light for almost a year.
The caregiver lurched, and gave a cry of protest. The leader hit him square between the eyes.
He fell motionless.
“Tell us the secret, how did you come to be.” Once again he growled.

Anya said nothing. She was more focused upon the beams of light that danced before her feet, not yet reaching her body.

The leader saw where her attention was focused and tore the light from his man’s hand. He directed the beam upon his ankle.
The sensation was gentle warming, like she has so longed for, but that quickly changed. The smell of burning flesh meet her nose, her skin bubbled and began to burn.
Excruciating pain like she had never felt before ripped at her mind. She relinquished into the open arms of no relief, but more men. They held her still.
“tell me.” The leader snarled.
She looked upon his face, his mouth contorted in a sneer, lips curled and his eyes…those eyes were unmistakable. She looked into the face of the man that bit her nearly a year ago.
“you.” Anya exclaimed.
The man said nothing, he looked to his men who gripped her only tighter. The hands that held her were not human, they were now mangled and clawed. The faces of the men changed into monsters and beasts. Such beasts that she has only read about before, fabled lycans.
The leader was not a beast though. He sported the signature sharp canines that pierced her neck.
He moved the light from her foot up her body the singing pain made his words irrelevant, the pain became all too much for her when it meat her cheek, she could not stand it any longer. Hatred in her body grew. She felt alive, yet dying all at once. She threw her head back.
The glass encasing the lights shattered and the light fell like water to the floor, gelatinous and quivering. The men jumped back in surprise. The light began to singe the wood floor, creating smoke and then flames. The house burnt quite easily. The men ran, but the leader stood there defiantly. Anya keeled over in pain, feeling the tender skin. She motioned with a flick swat of her palm, sending the light at the leaders face. Shrieks echoed. She dare not look at the aftermath.


Personality: Anya is quite a recluse, to herself. Once full of spirit, she seeks revenge upon the men that made her what she is. She has a fighting spirit, but still holds the sense of a docile child.

Appearance: Her skin is so light, she seems almost transparent. High arched brows, and eyes that burn with a turquoise ferocity, her pupils dilate not only larger and smaller, but widthwise as well, almost cat like. She possessed a fierce beauty, and she does not fear using her newfound sexuality to get what she desires. Her large soft lips hide her ever present razor sharp teeth that match with her seemingly pointed ears.
The scars she bears upon her shoulders, cheek and legs are the reminder of her past. From her head springs curly locks of hair, blonde but when agitated it glimmers with an unearthly white.

Her clothing style ranges from regency dresses, and feminine softness to harsh black leather corsets to match her boots. Just as her personality changes, so does her clothing.

The eye-catching ornate silver locket that hangs around her neck contains a single drop of the liquid light that fell onto the floor her now burnt home, now completely developed as a vampire she is unable to face the light within.

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