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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@sangreflor
#SANGREFLOR. 📚🔮 AN INDEPENDENT ORIGINAL CHARACTER, ANNELISE "LISI" MORENO, BY MAE, SHE/HER, TWENTY8. FT. GUEST CHARACTERS. MINORS DNI / 21+ ONLY. DEAD DOVE, MATURE & TRIGGERING CONTENT PRESENT. TW FOR MENTIONS OF R*PE, CHILDHOOD TRAUMA, BLOOD & VAMPIRISM, HORROR THEMES. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
a lil something for @bloodpsalm,
Annelise doesn't have a plan, not really—just a name and a need deep enough to overrule any sense of self-preservation she has left. She shouldn't be here. Not in New Orleans and not here lurking, aimlessly standing around, trying to look normal while she internally wars with herself. She's already turned back three times before she finally spots him, completely by chance, or some twisted version of luck. She doesn't have any proof that it's him—she's never met him, never seen a picture—but somehow she knows. Maybe it's the way people look at him, or the way his presence swallows everyone else's even when he isn't acting the part of the monster the rumors have created in her mind. He looks normal, and it strikes her as off for a moment, like it's not what she'd been expecting. Monsters aren't supposed to look ordinary, but Annelise has been around monsters her entire life—she is one, now—and she knows better.
There's a folded paper in her hand that's gone soft at the edges from how much she's handled it, slightly yellowed with age. Her father's signature bleeds across the bottom of the page, next to one Annelise hasn't been able to get out of her head. Klaus Mikaelson. She's whispered his name in several ears, used it like currency she has no right to spend, but it worked. It led her here, to the Original Hybrid she's convinced is the only option—or maybe just the best option—to help her. She still isn't entirely sure she wants his help, even if he offered to hear her out. The idea of facing her father again is terrifying enough to make her question the entire thing, so she thinks of her mother. It'd be for her. At least, that's what Annelise tells herself to force her feet into moving in the right direction.
"Excuse me," she says, voice far steadier than she feels, trying to get his attention. Then she realizes she has no idea what to say once she has it. Her fingers curl tightly around the paper like it's some kind of lifeline, and she knows she should lead with that. Something real. Something tangible. Her name, maybe. Instead, she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. "I know you."
She instantly regrets it. "I mean... I know of you," she explains, urging herself on before her uncertainty or her unease can force her back into the shadows. "I think you knew my... father." Even that tastes wrong, and she can't handle saying his name out loud yet. Not her father's. Not Klaus', either. They both feel like knives or nooses. "He used to write about you." She finally holds out the paper to him, an offering and an explanation all at once. "I kept some of it. Files. Research. I thought maybe you'd want them... and I thought maybe you'd let me talk to you about why I came all this way."
y'all i was gonna make a lil jokey joke but tbfh the mental illness is an ongoing fight that i am losing. i live, but barely. sorry for the disappearing acts, but give me some grace. 🥺 i love y'all with my entire heart, know that i shall return xoxo
❝ honestly ? i am terrified i am going to have to spend eternity alone. ❞
vampiric sentence starters. always accepting!
The words weigh heavier on her heart than she expects them to. Eternity is never a thing talked about lightly, and Annelise tries very hard not to think about it for too long. Forever can be a daunting thing, and if she focuses too hard, she's liable to spiral—and she tries so hard to be good.
For a second, Annelise just blinks at him, something soft in the rounding of her green eyes. Her fingers worry at the hem of her sleeve, the only thing to betray the countless thoughts circling around in her head. She could tell him she understands, could tell him that she's spent one too many nights letting that same thought keep her up for hours on end, but it feels a little too raw here. Instead, she smiles—a kind, somber thing that tugs at the corners of her mouth. Something that says she's isn't all guarded tonight.
"There's always going to be another one of us, Alexei," she says, voice gentle, head tilting in that sweet way that makes her look curiously thoughtful. "We cross paths eventually, don't we? Vampires and witches and all the other ones who never get to leave. It might be a strange way of looking at it, but it means you're never really alone."
Her gaze drifts down to her hands for a moment, the shadow of a laugh in her voice. "Not that I'm great proof of that," she admits, soft and a little self-depracating. She tugs at her sleeve once and then looks up again, smile brightening just a fraction. "But..." she says, mouth tipping towards a grin, something playful in the way she shrugs. "I'm here, at least. I don't plan on letting you skate through eternity without a little company, if only for my sake."
that specific ship meme. always accepting!
“I don’t like the way they look at you. Perhaps I’ll cut their eyes out.” — Snake / @spouts
For a moment, Annelise just blinks at him, head tilting in that sweet, absent way that comes along with her curiosity. She pauses long enough for it to feel deliberate, while she studies him like she's trying to decide whether he's joking or not, and then her lips curl into a quick smile.
"Cut their eyes out?" she echoes, voice soft and light, like it's the most incredulous thing she's ever heard. Really, it's just who's saying them that's so bizarre—because Annelise knows he might very well follow through on the threat. There's a flash of warmth in her laugh, the kind that sneaks out before she can stop it, and her cheeks are tinged red—not from shame, but from the way she likes it. It’s sheepish, the sort of blush that betrays her even as she gives him a look like he’s just said the most outrageous thing and gotten away with it.
"Snake, you can't just say things like that... You'll make me think you mean them." She leans in then, a playful glint in her eyes, smile brightening until the points of her canines are on display. It's sly, but tender, too—because she'd have to be pushed pretty hard to use them in anger, even if someone provoked her. She's trying to be good these days. "Besides," she says, "If I don't like the way someone looks at me, I've got fangs, remember?"
Wanted plots & dynamics for Annelise.
Hunter vs. monster, but complicated. A hunter or a detective (or something along those lines) convinced Lisi's a threat, possibly seeking her out to kill her. Then they see the kindness and the intense self-control she always exhibits—the volunteering at the hospital or homeless shelters or soup kitchens, and the incredible amount of strength it takes to do that while also experiencing a very real, very ravenous bloodlust. The more they see who she is, the more the lines blur, and now they're not so sure what to do anymore. This can go in about a million different directions!
The fear of abandonment isn’t just about people leaving, it’s the gut-wrenching belief that you aren’t worth staying for.
open to anyone!!
open to: m/f/nb/any possible connections: a human, most likely. someone she's been patching up for a few weeks. good for crime muses. could be strangers, friends, or something romantic. pre-established relationships are fair game—go wild!
the general idea: i patch you up regularly and don't ask questions, and it works because it means you don't ask questions kind of dynamic—and usually that works for her, but she always fucks up when she starts to care. that's it... those are the vibes. go wild, and feel free to come plot!
They settle into the chair, and Annelise doesn't flinch. She hadn't when they showed up at her door, late at night, marking the third time this week. No questions are tumbling past her lips, and she doesn't have worried words to scold them with. She doesn't ask how or why—she doesn't need to. The quiet between them has grown in the past few weeks like an unspoken recognition. Don't ask, don't tell works fine—until she starts to care. Then it gets messy.
Her hands move with a careful precision, every stitch deliberate, the bracelets on her wrists clinking with every unnaturally fast movement. She's far quicker than a human would be, and still more meticulous about it than she thinks they would be. Her senses are better, and her training before now was nothing if not overdone—first her father, then nursing school. She glances up only once, to see the way they watch her hands as she works. She doesn't hide here. There are no questions from them, either—and she knows what they must be thinking.
"It works because we don't ask," she says, voice low and soft. There's no accusation in her words—just a soft, subtle kind of truth, and then a quiet that typically means she's searching for something to say. She wants to ask—of course she does; her curiosity is nagging at her every second—but that would mean inviting them to ask their own questions.
Questions she isn't sure she's ready to answer.
Annelise leans back, gloves off, wiping her palms against her skirt. From an ashtray on the side table, she steals a half-smoked, hand-rolled cigarette, lights it, and then takes a drag just to have something occupying her hands. The smell of lavender wafts around the space as she exhales, long and slow. Then, because 'are you okay?' is on the tip of her tongue, "I think you should stay, let me keep an eye on you."
❝ i don’t believe in vampires. ❞ ~ 2nake!
vampiric sentence starters. always accepting!
Annelise's glass pauses halfway to her lips, green eyes flicking up to meet Snake's behind the bar. She laughs once, a kind sound, and a spark of something playful shines in her gaze. Her head tilts as she sets the glass down, studying him like she's weighing whether or not to deliver the punchline. If there was ever a time, it'd be now, when it's too early in the morning for most patrons to keep powering through and they're nearly alone in the dim-lit bar.
"No?" she asks, the word soft against her tongue. She's not being condescending, not really—she's just got a decent grip on her control tonight and she's feeling particularly cheeky. It's not like her to be so brazen about her undeath, but she's several drinks in, and at some point during the night, she'd decided Snake isn't a threat. He seems like the kind of person who does well with weird, too, and that only emboldens her.
So she's playful—just for tonight. Her smile widens, displaying the tips of four slender, pointed canines. The tip of her tongue runs over the edge of one of them very deliberately before her mouth snaps closed and her smile returns. It's just the beginning of the things she could show him, but she doesn't offer any more than that.
"You don't strike me as someone particularly closed-minded."
memes for that specific brand of ships
SOFTER: “ stop doing that— stop trying to hide your emotions from me. ” “ i can’t make you trust me. but i’m gonna stick around long enough for you to realize you can. ” “ not everyone is just gonna become another scar. some people will stay, if you let them. ” “ i feel like i’ve been living in a storm for so long, like i’m just drifting from wave or wave hoping i won’t drown. ” “ what happened to you? what made you so scared to stay still long enough to let someone in? ” “ i don’t wanna be scared anymore. ” “ even when you smile, your eyes are still sad. ” “ you’re safe with me. you can let go. breathe. ” “ i just want to belong somewhere again. or to someone, i guess. ” “ the thing about never having a home, is you don’t know what to do when you’re finally given one. you just feel like you’re waiting for something to take it away again. ” “ would you just sit still? you’re gonna get an infection if you don’t let me clean this up. ” “ i’m not gonna hurt you. i’m just here to help. ” “ close your eyes. go back to sleep. nothing can hurt you while i’m here. ” “ you looked so peaceful while you were sleeping…i couldn’t bring myself to wake you up. ” “ why do you trust me? ” “ don’t do that— don’t shut down on me. let me in. ” “ you were talking in your sleep again. i’m starting to think they’re memories and not just dreams. ” “ i’m not used to letting people close. i don’t like being vulnerable— but i want to, with you. i want to let you in. ” “ how did you get this scar? ” “ i don’t always need you to fix everything. i just— sometimes i just want you to listen. ” “ you’re so beautiful when you laugh. i wish i could see it more, but maybe it’s the rarity of it that makes it so captivating. ”
DARKER: “ every time i touch you, there’s a moment where you look like you think it will hurt. ” “ why aren’t you scared of me? ” “ you’d accept a caress from the same hands that leave you bruised, just to feel warm. ” “ i’ll kill anyone that makes you hurt like that again. i’d kill them just for taking your smile. ” “ i want to keep you all to myself. i don’t want anyone but us to know the things we do in secret. ” “ you’re mine now. and i won’t let anyone take you from me. ” “ would you kill for me? ” “ i’d cut my heart out and place it in your hands if it would prove my devotion to you. ” “ you love me so fiercely. i’m almost afraid of it. ” “ i know if anyone hurt me, you’d never let them see another day. and i think i like that a little too much. ” “ i know you’re dangerous, but i also know you won’t hurt me. you bark, and you growl, but you never bite. not me, at least. ” “ who hurt you? who made you so sad and lonely? tell me so i can make them pay. ” “ i don’t like the way they look at you. perhaps i’ll cut their eyes out. ” “ “ they hurt me. now i want you to make it better. make them hurt too. ” “ if anyone lays even a single finger on you, i’ll cut it off and feed it to them. ” “ yes. i killed them— but i did it for you. ” “ i had to do it. no one gets to make you sad and get away with it. ” “ i told you, i’ll love you no matter what. i’ll wipe the blood off your skin. i’ll clean the dirt off your hands from every grave you dig. i don’t care if you’re a monster. ” “ you should be scared of me. i like that you’re not. ” “ don’t you know my love could destroy you? ” “ come, sit in my lap and tell me whose blood i should spill tonight. ”
14. Does your character remember names or faces easier?
character development questions. always accepting!
Definitely faces! As a vampire and someone meticulously trained to be observant, Lisi is used to looking for body language and subtle cues in other people, so she'll often notice little details that others might miss. Names can slip her mind if she's only met you once or twice and doesn't have a personal connection, but she'll try really hard to remember. She always remembers people's eyes first—even if she can't name them.
❝ i don’t believe in vampires. ❞ oop-
vampiric sentence starters. always accepting!
Annelise's head tilts just slightly, mouth curving into a soft smile. The sudden spike of adrenaline is easy to bury—she's had practice—but the mention of vampires never fails to leave her jarred, at the very least. She hides it well and looks as though she's humoring him without condescension. No anxiety or apprehension that she might be discovered as something less than human—or more than, depending on who's looking at it. If there's one thing she's sure of, it's that she would be something for the humans to fear, and she doesn't want that. Not ever again.
A quiet laugh escapes her, more of a breath than a sound. "Good," she says, like she's understanding, "I don't believe in them either."
She shifts slightly, fingers curling around the warmth of the mug she holds. There's always a deliberate rhythm to her movements, as if she's putting genuine thought into each of them, no matter how minute. Then her eyes sharpen, and her smile turns playful as she leans in.
"You know what I do believe in?" she asks, voice warm, but edged in something a little darker, like she's in on a secret he isn't. Her fingers tighten around the mug like she's drawing energy from it, and she speaks like her words are half joke, half truth. "Witches."
#5. On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?
character development questions. always accepting!
Most of Lisi's outfits don't have pockets unless she's wearing a sweater or cardigan or something along those lines (she favors skirts a lot), so these are things that can be found in her pockets or in her purse:
Hand-rolled herbal cigarettes. If they're not in the box from the boutique she gets them from, they're in an old Marlboro box.
An old Zippo lighter from the early 70s. It's silver, and it's got the gold hunting scene on it—some guy holding a rifle with a hound next to him. She stole it from Mateo, who picked it up somewhere during his travels in 1972.
Loose change, probably at the very bottom of her purse. She has a bad habit of just tossing coins in there "for later" and then never using them.
An old milagro charm—a small, handmade metal token usually used as a prayer offering or for protection. Hers is well-worn and tarnished by age.
A pocket knife she rarely ever uses.
Vials of dried herbs. For rituals, magic, or just because she likes the smell.
Gum and small snacks. She's never without something to munch on because it helps with the blood cravings.
A ballpoint pen and a well-loved, worn notebook. She uses it to write down whatever comes to her mind, especially if she's planning to go home and write about her day in a journal later.
Travel-sized first aid kit and a lot of loose bandages/bandaids.
Probably some kind of lip balm or chapstick.
Her RN badge for work.
❝ you have to invite me in. ❞ {elias}
vampiric sentence starters. always accepting!
For a beat, Annelise just stares with her hand resting against the doorframe. Blinks her eyes once, slow, like the words aren't quite registering with her and she's trying to decide if he's joking or not. Then, a minute too late, the meaning behind them finally hits her. She glances over her shoulder to the warmth of her cabin, then quickly back to Elias, red coloring her cheeks like she's embarrassed. "Oh," she says, a sheepish tone rounding the word, "Right. That."
The truth is, she's never really had to worry about doorways or thresholds—she thrives in them. Her witch side negates that little weakness, whatever it is—it's never mattered to her enough to research thoroughly. In her mother's old journal, she once read 'Witch blood doesn't ask permission,' and that was all Lisi needed to know. She steps aside, a hand curling around the edge of the door as she edges it open further, a smile curving her lips like she's indulging him in a formality she doesn't understand, but isn't about to deny. "Come in, Elias."
Annelise laughs once, like the words feel absurd as she says them, her head shaking, "Sorry, I keep forgetting. It doesn't quite work that way for me, so..."
Then, her smile brightens, and something playful flashes in the green of her eyes. "There's garlic in here, too, you know. Mirrors and running water... That's one of them, isn't it? Or, wait— is that specifically for crossing the ocean in a coffin? It's been a while since I've read any Bram Stoker."
#SANGREFLOR. 📚🔮 AN INDEPENDENT ORIGINAL CHARACTER, ANNELISE "LISI" MORENO, BY MAE, SHE/HER, TWENTY8. FT. GUEST CHARACTERS. MINORS DNI / 21+ ONLY. DEAD DOVE, MATURE & TRIGGERING CONTENT PRESENT. TW FOR MENTIONS OF R*PE, CHILDHOOD TRAUMA, BLOOD & VAMPIRISM, HORROR THEMES. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
GUIDELINES (INCLUDES TRIGGER AND CONTENT WARNINGS) & ABOUT LISI (INCLUDES GUEST MUSES).
❝ it’s been awhile since i tasted fresh blood. ❞
vampiric sentence starters. always accepting!
Annelise's head tilts just slightly, a smile curving her lips that doesn't quite reach her eyes. There's a soft exhale that sounds something like a quiet laugh, but it's humorless. The words hit her in a way she isn't expecting—that ever-present, ravenous thirst very suddenly reminding her why she has to work so hard at control.
Her chin dips, gaze passing over her hands in her lap like she's expecting to look down and find them caked in blood. There's no judgment when she raises her eyes to meet Stefan's again—just a gentle kind of understanding. She isn't sure if it's thirst he's trying to name, but isn't it always thirst? She waits and waits for the day it no longer burns her from the inside out, but it never comes—not for her, it seems.
"Is that a confession," she jokes, "or a warning?"
There's no sharpness in her tone—there's barely humor—but it's something light where she thinks it's needed. She leans back in her chair, gaze passing over him like she's trying to study him with that curiosity that only comes from being used to monsters—including herself. "If you're hungry, Stefan," she adds softly, the words gentle, like she's trying to convey she feels it, too—she never stops feeling it. "You don't have to dance around it."
Then, in classic Lisi fashion, always trying to help, she taps her wrist like an open invitation—because if she can offer him a little of the relief she's always chasing, she's more than willing. "I've got blood bags from the hospital, too, if you want one of those instead, but I don't mind."
lisi smokes often, mostly to keep her hands busy, but they're all hand-rolled, tobacco-free cigarettes. she doesn't mind the smell of nicotine so much, but she hates the taste. they ones she smokes are typically herbal, like mint, lavender, and chamomile. sometimes she rolls them herself, sometimes she gets them from a little boutique she loves. if she's not buying them outright, she has an old marlboro box she keeps them in, and sometimes she'll stuff some flowers in there for the aesthetic.
