Post by TheLivingDead on Jul 16, 2012 15:23:23 GMT -5
Darque Silas
credit to Shane McCauley and El Wood
credit to Shane McCauley and El Wood
Name;; Darque Silas
Nicknames;; Darque, Siy.
Species;; Dhampir
Age;; Twenty-five
Birthdate;; 13th November
Orientation;; Bisexual
Occupation;; Assassin, ex-trophy 'girlfriend'.
Playby;; El Wood
Description;; Darque... quite the retro beauty, is she not? With thick, voluminous brunette hair that cascades down to the middle of her back in large, deliberate waves and eyes that slant seductively, she could have stepped straight out of a vintage movie of sorts. But of course, she hasn't. She's more the type to step out of thunderous, crippling battle fields than crackling, flickering cinema screens. She bears an ample, voluptious bust, that curves in sharply to her slim waist, before tapering back out to form her wide, childbearing hips. She tends to wear clothes that not only accentuate her stunning form, but that are fairly practical when it comes to slaughtering her targets. She has too many scars to count, some from fights, others from self mutilation and drug abuse.
Darque has several tattoos. A half sleeve that incorporates two blue butterflies, swirling with some kind of mystical fog on her upper arm. It trails down to a yellow and pink rose that streaks down her inner forearm. On her opposite arm, a beautiful dark haired woman with again, another butterfly, but this time, the tattoo includes elements of roses and other flowers. On the same side, she has another smaller tattoo of a apple with an arrow piercing it on the outside of her wrist. On her side, in a gorgeous black script, states the word ''passion''. She has one last one on her back,
Darque is a cold hearted bitch. Fact. She is one to care little for others, apart from those that are close to her, or somewhat useful in her seemingly endless battle against the forces of the dark. She can be a complete and utter vile whore, to put things simply. She loves sex, or any kind of intimate activity, even if it doesnt involve actual physical contact. She enjoys making people feel horrendous, but. There is a sweet side. She loves to be loved, and can actually be fairly dependent on others.
History;; Darque was not always strong. But it was the weakness she dragged with her as a child and through into her teenage years that made her want to strong, stronger than anyone else.
Darque grew up in London. Her mother, an abusive drug addict with a hunger for any man off of the streets to beat both her and her daughter. Darque, needless to say, wasn't exactly a happy child. With every blow she recieved from either the male stranger or her mother, she promised herself, I'll get back at you. I promise. She reached her teen years a damaged girl, her mind having spiralled out of control. She searched for some kind of release, something to leak the insanity that had crawled beneath her skin, settled itself into the softness of her flesh. Slashing herself open repeatedly didn't work, neither did the drink. She began to receede back into depression, going unnoticed by her drunken, drug guzzling mother.
It was only one night, by chance, that she'd had enough and had decided to go out, get smashed out of her face, and have some cheap fun. This night would change her life. Forever. The lights in the club flashed, spun and jittered, chasing breasts, arse, bared legs, sweaty arms and midriffs... they made her pounding head spin. Darque sidled through the club, fake ID buried in her purse just in case. By this time, she was at the age of only seventeen, but looked far, far older. After she had her first drink, Darque remembered nothing but a man. A man. An ugly man, at that. His face, streaked with scars, was hot, and close to hers. Closer than she'd ever feel comfortable with. His breath - that reeked of strong, heavy liqour - was warm on her neck, giving her this sense of calm as she rocked to the beat of the music. She could feel his hands touching her all over, seemingly hungry for whatever lie beneath the black lace of her short, skimpy dress. The night progressed, and ended with Darque lieing in a strange bed, panting, sweating and aching. Once he was done with her, she instantly felt the hot trickles of guilt coursing through her.
It was only when morning came, that she began to realize that this wasn't just some kind of one night stand. It had been calculated to some degree. As she went down the elaborate staircase, she scoped the area, her finely tuned ears seeking out the man she had slept with. " Miss Silas... " his voice was thick, and it echoed out through the mansion of the house that they'd spent the night in. Frowning, she knew she hadn't told him her last name. Stalking through the house to the source of the voice. Standing in the doorway, she gazed at the man sat at the head of the table. He was an older man, flecks of grey peppering his dark hair, and deep wrinkles digging trenches into the withering foundations of his features. Cocking a brow, she cooed, " I don't recall telling you of my name, Sir...? " at that, the man laughed, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair. Darque's jaw tightened as he began to speak, " Mm, that's right you didn't... " Darque blinked, raising a brow even higher so that it disappeared beneath the mass of elegant curls that framed her still very much innocent face. " I'm here to give you a buisiness proposition. "
Darque laughed at the top of her lungs. " Charming. A true professional, eh? Do you sleep with all of your potential buisiness partners? " At this, the man ebbed with chuckles. " Only the very beautiful ones. But anyway...moving on. Darque, do you know who your father was? "
Giving a smirk, she replied, " This is shit side of London, who actually knows who their father is? "
" Thats true... " pausing, he thought for a moment, before going on to say, " He was one of our finest assassins. He had a peculiar sight... It's called the Eagle Vision. It is only passed on through blood, and only a few select assassins actually have it. It's a wonderous thing. Quite useful.... "
" Cut to the chase, Sir. "
" We think he passed this on to you. We need you, Darque. Everything we have depends on it.... " standing, he began to circle her, no doubt just to gawp at her curves, but to add a little melodrama, " ....I can promise you power, strength, beauty...revenge... "
His words echoed out through her head, making it throb and ache even more than it already was. " What do I need to do? "
It was over ten months later that she had finally completed her training. She'd been somewhat brainwashed by the Templars. And she was completely wrapped around the Boss' finger. Darque waited on him hand and foot, ready to do anything he wanted at the drop of a hat. This often included a hefty amount of sex, and being passed out to the targets in an effort to get closer to them. She was beautifully trained in the art of seduction. Her life was fairly pleasant for the next few years, until someone who had repeatedly caused a problem for the Templars cropped up again. Wriggling into the tiniest dress possible, the Boss briefed her on the mission. " The Auditore? Oh for fuck sake... Why won't he just.... ugh. " tossing her hair, rage flickered in her piercing eyes as they flicked down to gaze admiringly down at the heels she was set to wear that night. Lacing them up her toned legs, she kitted herself up, blades in position, goodness only knows what stuffed into her bra... Placing her heel on the table, she pulled the dress up. Her ever faithful Brazillian revolver, the Raging Bull, winked at her in the dim illumination of the room as she placed it in the holster that rested at the top of her thigh.
At the masquerade, she stood in the corner, slinking through the shadows, head low, hair digusing a majority of her beautiful mask. A small smirk was laced across the painted blood-red of her lips as she made her way into the middle of the hall. Raising the Raging Bull above her head, a shot rang out, and the crowds dropped like flies. A shudder of intense satisfaction rippled through her. She went into a long, melodramatic explanation of why she was here, and finally, he appeared, dragging a man with him. Without hesitation, Darque shot the man, leaving him dead. The chase was long and drawn out, ending with Darque sat casually on Ezio's couch. They consumed a bottle of wine together, which ended with Darque spiking his. From there, Darque loaded him into the car that awaited them outside and they were taken to the Templar Base.
Darque reported back to the Boss, where she also met Ezio, whom was knelt on the floor before the Boss. They arranged to execute him in the morning, when their minds were fresh. That way, they could recall the downfall of one of their worst enemies. But, it worked out, the execution would never take place. Standing together in the large room, Darque wrapped herself around the Boss, her leg curled round his. Her pretty chasms gazed up at him almost adoringly. It was then that the Boss broke her. " Hm. Darque, it seems your usefulness has come to an end... how sad... " he stepped back from her, pushing her away. No. No. This wasn't happening. " W-what..? " the guards snatched ahold of her, forcing to her knees. She struggled furiously, snarling, " No! After all I've done for you all?! " her blades slid from their sheathings on command, severing the hands of the guards. They shreiked, leaping away from her. Without a second thought, she fled. Not before freeing Ezio and with his help, blowing up the base.
Having been wounded in the process, they sat in the wombing dark of the cave together, blood dripping steadily from the injury she had taken to her arm. As Ezio cauterized the wound, she screeched at the top of her lungs, only to be smothered by a sweet, intense kiss. This shocked her, rattled her cage... On pulling away, she gave him a vile stinging slap across the face. She'd done it hard, she knew she had. So hard, that she saw wetness glittering in his eyes. Though Darque quickly succumbed to him, kissing him once more, and slightly more enthusiastically this time.
From then on, they just grew closer and closer. They went around, blowing up the final few bases. It was only when they got to the last one that problems arose. Darque had discovered that she was pregnant with her first child, Ezio's child. Terrified as she was, she still continued with her mission, but was ever careful. It was then, that Ezio was captured. What fabulous timing. She recieved a phone call and was given the ultimatum. She either spill everything, or her ex-'boyfriend' would fill Ezio's head with lead. She didn't hesitate. It all came falling from her lips in thick, heaving sobs. Then, after a scolding, the line went dead. Needless to say, in fury, Darque tracked Ezio, and found the final base. She steamed in, slaughtering whoever dared stand in her way. The killing that day was brutal. Even the ''innocent'' little receptionist lay in a pool of blood. Nobody. Nobody. would touch the last person on Earth that actually gave half a fuck about her. Sure, he was angry, but she was sure that he still loved her. He did. Right?
She released him from his cell and from there, they thundered through the base, killing anyone that still served the Templars. When they came to fight the boss, Darque hid in an effort to save the tiny child that lie in the pit of her womb. When all was done, Ezio confronted her. Despite it all, she stood her ground, and suddenly blurted that she was pregnant, only to - understandably - be pushed away. After all, the Boss had been a father figure to Ezio for a majority of his adolescence. Ezio abandoned her, leaving her to fend for herself in a huge Templar base, that still crawled with the assassins.
Captured somewhat effortlessly by the Templars, she was beaten, sexually abused and tortured in the most sickening of ways. She was then left to rot in some dark, dank cell underground. Glass littered the floor, and it came as a release. Over the months she spent in captivity, she turned back to self-harm. Though, with every cut, she felt increasingly guilty. This was her fault. Nobody elses. And so, again, Darque spiralled back down into eradicating hold of depression, whilst her body struggled to support both her, and the child. However, her body eventually gave in.
Darque, after months of living in constant hell, escaped. She couldn't remember how, she just did. The only thing she could recall was checking into some vile hotel room. But anything was better than that cell. The hotel room offered some kind of comfort as she went into labor. The birth was long and hard, and she was alone and forced to be silent. When her baby girl was finally born, Darque waited expectantly for a soft, wailing cry to ring out. But when one never came, she panicked. Her child had been born still. She had no idea of what to do.
Two weeks on, and she walked out blindly into a large field. The grass swayed gently around her, lapping at her legs, twitching at her elbows. To die here, would be such a beautiful place to die. Lying down in the grass, she unsheathed her hidden blade, examining it carefully. It was only then that she heard a familiar voice. Darque... it was him. Standing, she hurled nothing but abuse, which actually ended in her beating him within an inch of his life, before kissing everything better.
He nursed her for a while (a day), before Darque left. By choice. After he had beaten her up in return, she had decided that she'd had enough. (Already?) Darque went straight back into training, and came back stronger than she had ever been before. She bought herself a new partner, Santo, a huge, strong black Murgese stallion, one that was native to Italy. She had also used her extensive knowledge of weapons to make a new hidden blade, and upgrade her old hidden blade to a hookblade. It worked as an extension of herself, and helped her swing from building to building and also functioned as a zipwire attatchement, were applicable. She had done this as to prepare for their final battle for who they thought to be the final Templars.
She assisted Ezio from within a building with her sniper rifle, helping him defeat the swarms of assassins that attacked. Eventually, she swung down and joined in the bloodbath. Darque suffered no injuries this time, having become quicker, sharper... once she had fended off the remainder of the henchman, she sped to where Ezio was to have one final showdown with the second Boss. Without words, he killed the man, only to have the last henchman give him a farewell shot to his shoulder. Darque was truely terrified. She called for Santo, who came racing up on command.
Darque, with the help of two old friends, managed to nurse her lover back to health so that he was strong enough to survive the ride to her home, far from Florence. The night they rode together signified a new start for them. A normal life... But will it work out? Find out next week on Lives Gone Wrong!
Your Alias;; Tala/TalaDelRey
Your Age;; Fourteen, cuz I'm a baby.
Your Years Experience;; Too long.
