Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

ELIZABETH BATHORY "Because no one has more thirst for earth, for blood, and for ferocious sexuality than the creatures who inhabit cold mirrors." Ancilla Vampire, 482 years old. POH: 1 CS: 1950.

[bathoryelizabethno-blog]

A Warm Welcome | Elizabeth & Solomon

[soljansen-deactivated20140417]

He was getting everything prepared for his fun on the Founder’s Ball and had decided that maybe some fun was in order. Walking was completely out of the question and so he was moving from bar to bar without a care in the world, appearing in a flash and then leaving as quickly as he came. There were a few humans that managed to catch a glimpse of him however, Solomon was more than sure knock them out before they had a chance to say anything about it. Now he found himself inside a bar that was a little more empty than the others. Sol wanted to leave, but there was something inside of the small place that drew him in.

Being able to sense magic was an interesting gift because it also gave him an edge in feeling out other creatures. Red flashed in his eyes as he looked around the bar, most people there had no spark. Normal everyday humans that needed to be wiped out at some point. Then there was the woman — who radiated death in a way that would make many believe she was dead. Which, as he stared at her form, he realized she was. Vampires were a common thing for him to see in China, being more numerous than in America and he had often found them to be much more interesting than his fellow witches. The stories they could tell and the knowledge they held were often beyond normal comprehension. It was a very good thing that he wasn’t normal.

Slowly he strolled towards the woman, knocking down any human that stood between him and his destination. She spoke up and he found himself intrigued, hanging onto her words like his life depended on it. A low chuckle escaped him as he took a seat beside her, shrugging his shoulders. “This town can be interesting, if you know where to look for fun. Also, isn’t garlic a little dangerous to people like you?”

[bathoryelizabethno-blog]

As she expected, someone had managed to come and sit down next to her at the bar and at first, this made Elizabeth shiver with unease. She enjoyed her own company and found the words of others to be tedious and foolish because they often had nothing of interest to say. This gentleman would be no different, or so she guessed.

"I highly doubt my level of fun matches yours." Elizabeth replied snidely with a hint of humour in her tone as she looked at the man beside her for the first time. Her idea of a nice evening was ripping the throats out of countless innocents before returning to rest and she could doubt anyone shared such interest. She had not been surprised however at the sudden realisation that he was a Vampire, like she sensed he was a Witch, she never had good experiences with his sort, merely because she often selfishly left them for their own ruin. Indeed, all manner of creatures ran among this town and she could not say she felt comfortable with that fact. What was truly so appealing about this place?

"Fatal, no. Irksome, yes." She replied, with no keen intention of enjoying any second of this, rather to be here than that small little loft Jacqueline had found for her to reside in. Nothing compared to vast open country, but here she felt trapped and cut off from the rest of the world. "But perhaps this town is most suitable for my kind... Given it too is already dead." She said with a patronizing smirk that perhaps made her unbearable, she didn't care, which only proved arrogance.

"But you are a Witch... The simple minded fools who are happy with most anything at all... I cannot blame you for enjoying yourself here in this little haven, it seems most suitably dull." The wicked snide in her tone was either challenging or hostile, or a generous mixture of both. She could recall the times, many a year ago, when she would slaughter many and watch the witches burn as she blamed them for the many murders going on within her villages. Cruelty was a favourite of Elizabeth's, mercy was not. "I thought they burned all your kind years ago." Although it was less of an insult this time as it was an inquiry. And with that she absently brought the horrid smelling rum to her lips for sake of it being in her hand and set it back down with a disgusted face, repulsed by the idea of even sipping it.

[bathoryelizabethno-blog]

A Warm Welcome | Elizabeth &

Elizabeth had wandered around aimlessly for hours before deciding it was better to figure the town out for herself, rather than rely on her maker Jacqueline, who happened to be nowhere to be seen. So, she took it upon herself to leave her new home at the Foundry Lofts once night fell and try to get a feel of the place by exploring, or rather deciphering where everything was and what this town truly held beneath it's exterior, although she could expect a bore. She had managed to wander only so far though, down a dimly lit street that displayed an array of shops, with only some illuminated with life due to the hour, but that was the downside of being a Vampire, she supposed.

Wandering into one of the buildings which seemed to have a certain amount of life in it, and as expected, it was a bar; how truly predictable. With a roll of her eyes that had been coming from the second she set foot outside, Elizabeth moved her way over to the bar with the obvious attitude that she would hate everything within this place and not dare give it a chance, stubborn was perhaps an understatement when it came to the former Countess.

The gentleman behind the bar had managed to slap a glass of a brown looking liquid before her when she had asked for 'anything at all', but something she could only decipher as rum, if not for the smell. Her face held disgust for it was certainly not blood, the only thing she had became accustomed to drinking and such beverages only led to the losing of one's dignity from past experiences and it was not something she cared to dapple in. However she was stirred from such thought when she felt the nearing presence of someone, and the horror of conversation was upon her. Small talk was something she loathed, for it was tedious.

"I am assuming the company is as dull as the atmosphere." Elizabeth remarked, with a huff, revealing her hostile nature which time had created. Despite it being the twenty-first century she would still hold the arrogance and vanity of the former Countess she was all those years ago. "Stuffing my own mouth with garlic might be more bearable than this town..." And there was the stubbornness again, and the idea of making any friends out the window completely.

[nolongerinuse-bindle-blog]

"Because no one has more thirst for earth, for blood, and for ferocious sexuality than the creatures who inhabit cold mirrors."

† Basics ;

Species →  Vampire

Rank →  Ancilla

Age →  Appears 29, 482 years old

Occupation → -

† Status ;

Neighborhood → Foundry Lofts - loft, lives alone.

Residency Status → New to Town

Pure of Heart → 1

Corrupted Soul → 1950

† Personality ;   

+ Ingenious, cagey, eager, overachiever

- Brutal, apathetic, narcissistic, traitorous

† History ;

1560’s, also known as the Golden Age of vampirism were the Salem Witchcraft Trials before the actual burning of witch’s at stakes. Hidden behind all the fairly and unfairly sentenced Wicca were the creatures of the night, an unspoken myth; some less ambitious more interested in power alone while the others hunted infamy as well. To the latter belonged the beautiful mistress of the Castle Csejthe, known for her lustrous black hair and pale skin; a woman of royal blood, countless alliances and relations to princes and kings, bishops and cardinals. A dangerous political enemy, humans would call her, and the social label had become as much of Elizabeth’s shield as it was the public’s weapon.Make the mortals see a potential threat to their wealth in headlines and they will oversee the actual threat shadowed by the marketing trick. While the mortals tired themselves with futile guesses, inside a large torch-lit room carnal atrocities of drunken holiday orgies, complete with tortures entertained the archaic beauty. Beatings, burning, whipping, blood baths; once the woman realized she could do whatever pleases her and no one could stop her, there was no end to her sadism.

But the countess herself has had a rough childhood to bury. Diagnosed with a brain disorder of increased aggression and epilepsy at early ages, with nothing to live for, it was easy for the young heiress to slip into the devious ways. Her promiscuous ways had resulted with a pregnancy when she was only fourteen, only to be sequestered from her infant and betrothed to avoid the possible scandal. Elizabeth, to her parents, was only another mean for them to achieve the wealthy ends. Ever neglected by her own blood and spoiled by the nanny instead, the girl had grown into a narcissistic careless woman that would change her clothing six times a day, spend hours admiring her beauty in mirrors, use all manners of oils and unguents to whiten her skin and whatnot. That was until she met her maker, Jacqueline, a woman who’d seen the potential in the little human girl and was ready to take on the motherly role Elizabeth’s own mother was never capable of. Crucial moment of Elizabeth’s dementia was when Jacqueline made the girl observe the executing of a gypsy man accused of betrayal. She’d seen the man being sewed into the gutted belly of a horse and felt nothing for she had realized that people with power can do anything they want. All the decisions taken from her; her marriage, child, wealth, they all made her want to become powerful and Jacqueline offered all of that with one simple bite.

Once she’d received the gift, it was time for vengeance, but not only upon those who’d faulted her but those who were given what she never was, as well. She did, though, start with the wives and daughters of all allies of her parents. Between their toes, she’d stick an inflamed paper and laugh as the fairy maidens struggled to put the fire to rest. She would break their necks by pulling their jaws until their spines were to break. Oil them with honey and leave them for insects and predators to devour. Pour the cold waters on them and leave them to freeze to death.  If she could get a wolf or witch blamed and killed along the way, all the merrier. Playing with food, hearing them scream and beg for death to come was what got her off, and in her most merciful moments, she’d even let her male servants feast themselves with the virgins. Throughout the years, she’d become only more superficial, her bloodlust ever growing for she had made it out to be the one thing that keeps her powerful and beautiful. When Elizabeth wanted to feed, she did, no questions asked, no demands made. 

With a body count of extraordinary six hundred and fifty girls behind her, Elizabeth had grown careless in covering her tracks. Obsessed with pushing the limits of society as well as her own, the Countess wanted to see how far she could go without being punished for her deeds, wanted to test the waters of how much power is exactly too much. Long ago, she had gotten caught and sentenced to death for her devious ways but instead of pledging her alliance to the Devil to save her soul, she chose the inferior witches. Mutually beneficial alliance of her protecting the witches from trials and witches repaying her by assuring her escape from imprisonment worked for only so long, though. Aware that one’s past can only be one’s burden, Elizabeth savored the perks of being presumed dead by making another deal with a werewolf who would make sure that the witches weren’t to see light of another day while spreading the story of her corpse being buried in family tomb as well. For years she’d lived a life of an anonymous serial killer, living like a murderous, lethal shadow but with her maker being adamant on coming to Bindlebrim and Elizabeth loving the woman as if she was her mother, the Countess couldn’t say no to the chance of reclaiming her old glory partnered side-by-side with Jacqueline. 

† Connections ; 

Jacqueline Burgess

A woman who had presented her with the wonders of freedom, confidence and ultimate power. Her maker, partner in crime and a mother she’d never had. In return, Elizabeth had taught Jacqueline a thing or two herself. Extensive knowledge of brute torture and creative ways of carrying her atrocities out have given the Countess chance to introduce her maker into the serial killer business and the two have been committing mischief for over four centuries together. Jacqueline’s surgical precision mixed with Elizabeth’s knack for blood and gore have made the duo the most terrifying nameless enemy of whichever region they’d cross. While Elizabeth is quite apathetic for almost every living being surrounding her, she is quite attached, if not dependent of her maker. 

Her face claim is Katie McGrath and she is currently open.

[fy-katiemcgrath]