Post by Izzy McGraw on Sept 9, 2016 2:00:59 GMT
Isabel "Izzy" McGraw
PLAY BY: Tori Kelly
♦ THE BASICS ♦
AGE: 23
GENDER: Female
ORIENTATION: Heterosexual
POSITION: Survivalist
RACE: Unregistered human♦ THE CHARACTER ♦
HEIGHT: Five feet and one inch.
HAIR COLOR: Blonde
EYE COLOR: Brown
MISC:
-Has a small scar under her ribcage from when she was stabbed in a fight over food
-Wears her mother's necklace; a loop made of thick string and a hand-carved pendant totem made of stone
-Wears her mother's dusty leather jacket and boots
PERSONALITY: Fight. Take. Live. These are the words that shaped her.
Indoctrinated into her head by the only person who cared about her, she wasn't taught the importance of generosity and kindness. Instead she would have to be selfish and merciless to all except family. It was a dog-eat-dog world for the unregistered anyways. No one would care if she lived or died except for her. In order to live she had to be more cunning and more ruthless than the hundreds of other poor sods stuck without some vampiric master. So she was taught to disregard the typical values of humanity and settle for being no better than another greedy rat scurrying about outside the walls.
That doesn't mean humanity has given up on her entirely though. Try as she might, sometimes a pang of sorrow and regret can make her heart ache when she steals supplies from another vagrant or kills a raider. For the most part it's fleeting, as she immediately shoves the feeling down. It isn't something she has time for. It isn't something she should experience anymore. Because what are relationships? Nothing but empty words and comforting lies. What are companions? Nothing but deadweight. What are people? Nothing but victims and predators. Even so the ache can appear, like some nagging ailment waiting to strike at the worst time. However for the most part she is her mother's daughter.
Fight. Take. Live.
Those were the words her mother taught her, but soon the student surpassed the teacher. With that came new words; her own words to live by.
Kill. Steal. Lie.
And most importantly:
Survive.
SECRET(S): There are some nights when it becomes too much. When the darkness closes in and she realizes she is well and truly alone. Only then does she give in to tears, and even then they're forced silent.♦ THE HISTORY ♦You have to see it through to the end, Izzy. No hesitation. No flinching.
Fight
The first time was always the hardest. Even in a world as twisted and ruined as this one, there was some primordial instinct that made her want to cringe. Despite the fact she's seen her own mother do the same thing countless upon countless times before. Sometimes it didn't go quickly or quietly either. It could drag on for minutes of rough wrestling and desperate struggling. It never matter how much they fought though. Mother was always stronger; more cunning and brutal than anyone else. That's why she was so good.
That's why she had to learn from her.
Her hands had been shaking in that moment. A sign of weakness she'd soon learn the hard way to eliminate. It didn't matter much to them. They were already broken, but she had to finish the job. It was almost a ritual. A coming-of age moment for when the last shred of whatever "innocence" she might have left would be torn away. She couldn't hesitate. There was no room for flinching.
That night, she took someone else's life for the very first time with her own hands.
It would not be the last time.
Not even close.No one has a claim on anything unless they can keep it. Remember that, Izzy.
Take.
It should have been easy. A quick in and out job; something she normally wouldn't bat an eye at. Seeing the child was what made the ache come back. It made her hesitate just a moment too soon, and then they heard her.
Confusion soon turned into shouting, and the night's blanket of silence had been violently ripped from the bed she'd snuck into. She couldn't back down; she needed that food more than they did. If they couldn't defend it then they had no claim. She fought back with tooth, nail, and steel until the floor was painted red. She would get what she came for, but not without sacrifice.
The child, who had originally inflamed the ache in her heart, now unleashed a torrent of sharp heat in her stomach. They'd stabbed her. In that moment, her hesitation was broken. Perhaps poorly timed, but humanity's inner plea to her had been faced with cold, hard fact. No one was innocent anymore. No one deserved the benefit of the doubt.
Another body hit the floor of the dingy shelter that night, while she returned to hers with a stolen prize and lesson learned.The days of heroes are over, Izzy. The only one who can save you now is yourself.
Live.
Transition came to her amidst anticlimactic silence. There was no roaring of rage, announcement of anger, or hollering of hate. Only the faint scuff of dirt and ash and the occasional creak the ruins made to protest their decades-old neglect. All could've been right in the world to any normal traveler.
In that moment, the silence was like thunder in her ears.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to shout and lash out at whatever had done this. Her mother was dead. Sucked dry like a puddle in a desert. As empty as her heart. She wanted to do something. She needed to do something. In that moment, however, there was only one thing she could do:
What she had been taught.
She took the necklace first. The only thing her mother had made that had served no useful purpose. Next to go was her jacket and boots. They were worn yet thick, and should've been warm from being worn so consistently. In that moment they were cold. The figure that had been wearing them no longer had any heat to give. Only after divesting everything else of value did she finally move to bury her mother. The process was long and tedious, but for some reason she felt it was worth it. That she was worth it. Her mother was the only body she ever buried. The rest didn't deserve a grave. None of them did really.
It was only later on the next night that she finally allowed herself to mourn.
Because only then did she realize she was truly alone.♦ THE PLAYER ♦
USERNAME: Spunks
AGE GROUP: 18
EXPERIENCE: 4 years
WHERE DID YOU FIND US? Proboards
