HONORA, cyra kellen | Childe

Okay, she's a childe. Beautiful. Just to give you a bit of an idea. She's not too tall, not too short, standing at a lovely five foot six inches, with curves to kill for. I mean, come on, she has to look enticing to those humans, doesn't she? She loves to make the guys want her and the girls hate her. She's a fairly petite thing with porcelain white skin, lacking the warm fleshy color of living, breathing skin cells. She has cover girl worthy blond locks, to top it off as well. With auric strands mingling in waves of flaxen caramel, it's one of her most defining features. It tumbles to the small of her back and is uncommonly thick, often left loose, due to the fact that she's found men tend to like the free flowing look a little more.

Her most.. captivating feature has to be her eyes. Ever heard the term ice blue? Well she takes that to a whole new level. Her eyes are like glaciers, frozen and fractured with frost bitten irises, like crystallized diamonds. There's a lot behind those eyes , stories untold, secrets just waiting to be released, though she swears they'll never be spoken. She's definitely the make up type, though she hardly ever wears more than mascara atop a smokey eye, and pale lip gloss. She's an intoxicating example of a female, possibly even of a childe, and doesn't need a massive amount of make up to make her look even more provocative.

She's all about clothing. With an ample closet, she has just about anything you can imagine. With dresses ranging from backless mini-dresses that could hardly pass as skirts to floor length formals that some people could dream to afford, jeans galore, tank tops and tee shirts at her disposal, and various other items that could make a designer shop jealous. At home you can find her in a simple pair of athletic shorts and a vee-neck, but it's hard to find her at home. How she looks out of the town strictly depends on what kind of man she's looking to drag down with her that night. She knows how to look like a risque business tycoon out on the town for a drink, and a racy one night stander at the next bar.

Guarded. Above all, Cyra does not speak about her past, personal experiences, or.. anything really. She lives in the now for very personal reasons, and once a day is over she pushes it to the back of her mind. She can be very protective of her history, and if she feels someone is getting close to unlocking personal details about herself, she'll cut the relationship without a second thought. Rather sadistic, don't you think? But that's Cy for you. She avoids exclusive and intimate details about herself like she was trained precisely to do so.

Uncooperative. Do not, I repeat, do not order little miss Cyra to anything she doesn't feel like doing. I guess you could call her rebellious, incorrigible, riotous, unruly, and turbulent as well, but in the mean time we'll just narrow it down to one word. Uncooperative. The more you tell her to do something-- anything, she will simply refuse. She loves to push people's buttons and go against whatever you want her to do or say, and she gets unbelievable amounts of humor out of watching other people flounder due to her not-so-accommodating ways. She's rather defiant, and could be considered combative. If you get a little too pushy for her tastes, she's not afraid to get physical.. Though it might be a little different physical that you're thinking.

Enthusiastic. Despite her unique characteristics that can only be described as purely Cyra(yes, that is her name being used as an adjective), if Cyra likes you, she simply adores you. She always laughs, and teases, and runs around like a slightly unstable five year old on speed. She's the pillow fight, push in the pool type who always keeps you on your toes with her flirty, animated charm. She has a flighty temperament and loves to be on the move, and can have quite the sense of humor. But this is all if you've somehow managed to weasel behind the guarded feature she clings to so tightly above.

Stubborn. It had to come some time, didn't it? If you hadn't guessed it by now, you're being told right this moment. Cyra is beyond steadfast. If she's made up her mind, good luck changing it my dear, even I have yet to sway her from her ways. She's very good at blocking out things she doesn't want to hear, and she's not afraid to lengthen that list if you happen to be bothering her that day. Though this trait can be awful at times, at other moments it has proven to be a good thing. Her resilience has made her a brave and trustworthy friend. If she's sworn to help you, no matter what, she will.

Among other things, Cyra is very honest, sometimes brutally, very confident in both herself and others, and always realistic. She has a good head, and often thinks through most things before she speaks, and is typically the voice of reason. And I can't end Cyra's personality without adding one final trait. Cy is exceedingly jealous. She's immensely protective, and if you've happened to capture her heart, she'll do anything to be in the lime light. She will strive for your attention, and do anything it takes to get there. If you've somehow trapped her affection, expect to be treasured, but also defended-- even when you don't need defending. Cyra Kellen Honora can't be described as any one thing. To try and adequately describe such a complex and.. downright explosive character would be demeaning and somewhat arrogant of me. So, there's a lot to Cyra that you haven't heard yet-- but if you want to know? Well, I guess you'll just have to wait and find out, won't you?

Cyra was born the ever interesting year of 1904 to a very influential pair of vampires. An only child, she was spoiled to bits and pieces, as her father, a mechanical engineer of that day made a substantial income of nearly five thousand dollars a year-- which made him wealthy in those times. Her parents never were extremely happy in their partnership, and fights were common. Cyra was accustomed to the raised voices and brutal beatings her mother and father made such a normal part of living. Soon, Cyra took advantage of her parents fighting. For certain things, she would keep her mouth shut. Her parents vocal indiscretions were often much more than just voices, and if that got out around town, their reputation would be little more than nothing.

It didn't take long for the vampires to go their separate ways, and once the marriage was nothing but a memory, Cyra became one too, by her own terms of course. Cy became stunningly absent as soon as she felt she was no longer the center of attention. However, if she needed money, she knew where to go. Throughout her many years, her parents, separately remained successful, moving from job to job and somehow excelling at whatever it was they did. It's funny how when you have two hundred years plus to learn the arts, it comes so easy. Cyra was always supplied whatever she needed, and to this very day lives off of her inheritance, one she never suspected she'd tap into. But that's another story.

At the ripe age of fifty four, though she appeared hardly twenty, she met what she considered the love of her life. He was handsome, and doted on her every wish. He showed Cyra that life wasn't always serious, and getting what you wanted. He was smart, sweet, down to earth, and everything Cyra wasn't. And he was human. In two years he proposed, and a thrilled, but ridiculously blinded Cyra said yes immediately. And long story short, one unfortunate night, a much too starved Cy who had been trying hard to curb her hunger, slipped. Bye, bye pretty boy.

Cyra disappeared into every day life. She wears the ring religiously, the memories bound to it the most.. lively ones she can retain. Memories she can't bear to forget, and memories she doesn't want to remember.

Callisto's stride slowed gradually as she carefully avoided the black walls surrounding her. Shoulders brushed clammy stone here, haunches faintly flickered past dripping rock there. Each touch sent a sensual shiver down her spine, like fingers seductively closing around her windpipe, sucking the air from her body. She grinned wickedly in the blackness, to herself and only herself. That was all she needed. Depending on others was a weakness. And being weak wasn't Calli's strong suit. Her hooves fell in a steady rhythm, sending out vibrations, echoing to lead LG to her. After all, she wasn't hiding from him. Simply, playing games.. Oh, yes. Callisto was very, very good at playing games. If she was wasn't modest, she'd call it her forte.. oh, wait.

Finally the pounding of his hooves thrummed deliciously in her pricked ears. The grin seeped back into place, the only flash of white in the pitch darkness which encased them both. "I’m sure letting such a chance escape my grasp would be enough to kill me, Love." She let out a chuckle at his words. "Oh, my sweet, I'm quite sure it would." She purred, hooves leaving very little evidence as to where exactly she stood around LG. She laughed again, the darkness and resounding walls playing exactly to her advantage.

"I think we have some discussing to do, Darling." Though the purr remained, the words faded into a hiss, surprisingly venomous for such a stunningly beautiful creature. She edged closer to his body heat, reaching out gingerly until she felt skin. She felt with an audacity, not caring what crevices she stumbled upon, freely searching his velvety skin until she found his flowing spine. Her maw opened and teeth bumped down the vertebrae until she had no more room at the base of his tail. With that she lengthened her Spanish stride into the opposite direction.

"I saw you tormenting that poor little thing." She let the words drop off in quiet suspense. She turned, and walked briskly back toward him, allowing the confusing rings of hoof beats to resonate around him. She strode past him letting her blue body slink against his. "The poor little, Kai." She spit the name out, as if disgusted by the taste. "My Love, we really do need to get to work on your taste. That stunningly illiterate foal." Callisto spun on her haunches, creating a unique succession of sound, and aimed blindly for where he had previously stood. Luckily, he still remained there, and she came face to face with him in the darkness.

Her voice was only but a whisper in the stillness which enveloped them. "You must agree," She almost demanded this, a grin on her lips as breath after breath heated LG's own muzzle. She took a step closer, letting her own maw slip up his intoxicating boa constrictor of a neck. "You must not waste your time on little accessories like her, Doll. You need the real deal.." She trailed off again, as she had so famously perfected. She let her muzzle fall to his withers, resting her head there and allowed her salt and pepper toned tail flick into her face, teasing, taunting. She twisted her neck, remaining with her hooves planted beside him, rump placed ever so enticingly near his face.

She awaited for silence to once again wrap around her. "Looking Glass, my love.." She smirked a sick little smile. "You need me." She laughed, so self-confident, and so terrible. With that said, the roan kicked into a canter, eyes searching blindly in the dark for a twisting passageway that would lead her further from him. Had to keep him on his toes after all, if he wanted anything out of this fifteen hand mare. She wasn't easy. Notoriously not, actually. But would she be Callisto is she was?