Carallian Incionte Ve Undomiel

[Carallian Incionte Ve Undomiel]

Carallian Incionte Ve Undomiel

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Characters Personal Information

Name: Carallian Incionte Ve Undomiel
Gender: Female
Age: Twenty-one
True Age: Eighteen thousand six hundred and fifty-eight
Hair Color: White
Eye Color: Pink
Skin Tone: Albino
Height: 5’10”
Weight: 138 lbs
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Talent: Siren’s Touch
What Does It Do?: If a boogie dares to use their talent against her, then she can take control of said talent away from them. This does not allow her to use it, but merely prevents them from using it and allows her to cause them a massive amount of pain via the connection; primarily due to the fact that any attempt by them to use it causes a surge of pain to shoot through their mind and body. She is unable to nullify and manipulate more than one boogie's talent at a time however, meaning that in most cases she restricts herself to one charge at a time.

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What Are They Like?

Likes:
Pain
Screams
Blood
Training
Obedience
Conversation
Walks
Begging
Tears

Dislikes:
Causing pain
Being in pain
Others messing with her charges
Her masters
Following orders
Blood on her clothing
Meat

Turn Ons:
Blood
Screams
Resistance
Begging
Gentleness
Sincerity

Turn Offs:
Disobedience
The person thinking of someone else
Lying
Sarcasm
Cheek


Nervous Habits:
Her voice lowers
Avoids eye contact
Fiddles with her Ceiles
Bites her lip

Fears:
Being loved
Dieing without knowing love
Never knowing anything but pain

Appearance:
From even a distance, it is readily apparent that she is an albino. Her snow white skin and hair seem to glow, even in the darkest blackness; and her light pink eyes seem to have a demonic light to them, especially when she is in the middle of a training session. Her hair is kept cropped short for several reasons, the only one she will admit to being so that it will be kept out of the way when she is training her charges. Her face often seems a bit gaunt, even for her skin tone, due to the fact that she spends a great deal of time in dungeons and secret rooms. There are often dark circles around her eyes from times that she becomes a bit overzealous in her attentions and forgets the time of day.

She always wears some form of all leather training outfit, though the color and style varies. Her favorite is a two piece, booted ensemble; red as the blood she spills so that it will not show. However when she takes a mate she prefers a pure white outfit to display the fact. Regardless of the outfit, it always has a few metal rungs to cause extra pain when she closes the distance between she and her charge, elbow gloves with armored backs for when she prefers making more contact than her Ceiles provides, and a thick color buckled around her neck. It is this collar that she is never seen without, along with her Ceiles. The Ceiles itself is a short riding crop, about two and a half feet in length, and pure crimson. At its base is a small golden chain with a tiny clasp that she uses to hang it either from her wrist or her collar.

Personality:
Carallian is much odder on the inside than she could ever be on the outside. However out or in, there is one thing that is absolutely clear; she relishes what she does. It gives her unbridled joy to take the charges assigned her and slowly twist and break them until they either die or are reduced to a state that her masters find suitable. Most often it is the first. Rarely she will determine that a charge is suits her desires well enough for them to be taken as her mate. This is not a mercy however, as being her mate means they are subjected to pains far worse than the punishments she inflicts. So far none have ever lived for very long after she takes them to her bed.

On the flipside, she knows better than anyone the pain that she inflicts upon those given into her ‘care’. Though many do not live to realize it, she does at times show mercy in the only way she knows how, the pain. Though she thoroughly enjoys tormenting her charges, at the same time she is always left with a sadness at the back of her mind, an empathy for what they are forced to endure. Were it her choice she would show leniency, however it is not. In her own words; she can be no more or less than what she is. And what she is is not something either she or her charges wish for her to be.


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How Their Life Is / Was

[/color]Father: Sacries Incionte
Mother: Persievth Undomiel
Siblings:
Kineith Incionte Ve Undomiel – Elder Brother (Deceased)
Puraien Incionte Ve Undomiel – Younger brother (Deceased)

Familiar:

Aurion, a Siberian tiger. Though he is a massive beast, his shoulders easily reaching her waist, he is almost always calm and seemingly immobile. However his ice blue eyes miss nothing, and should his mistress be threatened in any way he will gladly fight to the death to protect her.

History:
Born as the only daughter to her parents, she was from the moment of her birth destined to a life that her mother and grandmother and other female ancestors for countless generations had lived. Her father knew this fate, and he accepted it without a word. Of course, being the mate of a ‘Morcai’ he had little choice in the matter; disobedience was for him a far worse fate than allowing his children to enter the traditions.

At the time of her birth there was only one other child, a brother who was some decades older than she, and who took it upon himself to raise her. She dearly loved her big brother and he loved her just the same; it was the happiest and brightest time of her life. It was her brother that taught her to walk and talk, taught her right from wrong. He was a kind man, and in his eyes there was nothing he could teach her that was more important than compassion for others. Kineith taught her that kindness was something that was far greater than any power she might ever obtain, and that she must, above all things, treat others with the same love that she would show him.

Several years after her birth, when she was but eight years old, her mother again gave birth to a child; another boy. Carallian took to him just as Kineith had to her, taking him and loving him and teaching him what she could. Her brother was very proud of her, proud of the way she had taken everything he had to teach and absorbed it into her very soul. He knew without a doubt that she would grow to be a kind and wonderful woman, even in the dangerous and deadly times that they lived in. In fact, that was all the more reason he wanted her to grow as such. If she were to become the woman he knew she could be, then there was a chance that she could help boogiekind out of the darkness and into the light.

And then came her tenth birthday, the day her mother deemed her training to begin. She was taken from her bed before the sun’s first light had even brightened the horizon, and taken to a small room that she had never known even lay within her home. The room was small and stone, nothing adorning it beyond a small table and chair. Carallian sleepily rubbed her eyes she looked about, trying to determine where she was and why she had been brought there. So drowsy was she that she didn’t even hear the mechanical click of a lock closing, or the heavy thud as the crossbar was dropped into place. She did however, feel the pain. It began in the center of her shoulder blades, and soon it began searing through her body like white fire, burning every nerve ending in her body. Before even a second had passed she was on the floor, screaming and crying as she writhed in agony. Desperately she pleaded for the pain to stop, for whoever was causing it to make it go away. A dark chuckle was all that met her ears as it ended, just as abruptly as it began. Weakly she looked up, barely able to raise her head or see through the tears, to see the twisted smile on her mother’s face. At first she couldn’t understand what was happening, why her mother was hurting her like this. Had she been bad? Was there something she’d done wrong that she didn’t know about? The questions abruptly ended when her mother’s booted foot slammed into the side of her head and the darkness took hold.

When she awoke, it was to find herself naked and in pain once more. Through the tears in her eyes she saw that she was hanging from a beam in the ceiling, her feet dangling roughly a foot from the floor. It was the method by which she was hanging that was causing her the pain; her arms had been pinned behind her by some sort of device, and it was to this that the chain was attached. The pain from the position was excruciating, she felt as though her arms were being slowly ripped from the sockets. Her teeth gritted against the pain until they were sore, only for her mouth to fly open in a desperate grasp as the pain from before raged in from her side. It tore through her body until she was shaking uncontrollably, unable even to cry it hurt her so badly. But just as her vision began to blacken once more the pain vanished, leaving her panting in fear and confusion. Just as the shakes were starting to lessen however, she felt something drag across her stomach. Her eyes bulged from her head as she looked down to see the crop that was raising swollen welts across her skin just from its touch. Before she could wonder how this could be however the crop was suddenly pressed against her harder and drug quickly up her side. The little girl screamed in anguish as the new welts bursts immediately, the blood pouring down across her body. Her mother continued doing this for another hour until Carallian was so lost in the pain that she couldn’t even remember her own name anymore. At this point the chain was released and she dropped heavily to the floor, sleep immediately overtaking her and bringing the torment to an end. Little did she know that she was only halfway through the first day of her training.

From that day on she was punished and ‘trained’ all day every day, never seeing anything of her brothers or the world that lay beyond the room she was in. After a short while she realized that her mother only wanted to cause her pain, that she was a very bad person. She also came to see that there would be no escape for her from the hell that had come to be her whole life; her mother would never release her, and so the only way for her to make her way out was to die. It was for this reason that she began to resist, to fight back as much and often as she could force herself to do so. However the more she fought back, the more it seemed to please Persievth. The woman seemed genuinely pleased that it was taking so long to achieve the result she desired to bring about in her daughter. In the end it took three long years of constant pain and suffering before her mother managed to break her, to reduce her to the point that she could no longer fight back. By this time she was begging to take orders, to do anything that might please her mistress so that she would not be punished more, so that she could at last escape the pain. Finally, she was allowed out of the room, though she was never allowed more than a few feet from her mistress, bound to her at all times by a small chain attached to the collar around her neck.

She thought that, perhaps, just perhaps, she would finally be allowed to return to her old life, that the training was over and she could go free. But the training had only begun. It was not enough for her mother to have broken her will and body; she desired to break her heart and soul as well. To make sure that she knew pain in all its forms and could endure it, that she could and would act without questioning her orders. It was for this reason that Kineith was taken to the room. Persievth bound her hand and foot and forced her to watch as her beloved brother was put through the same agony as she had been forced through. It tore her apart to see him in such pain, to know that there was nothing she could do to help him; to know that it was all her fault. Kineith, too, knew what their mother was about. He knew that so long as he was being tortured, that Carallian would be forced into nothing more than watching. Out of love for his sister, he resolved that he would endure the pain as long as he could, to spare her any more. He put up a valiant effort, but above all he was a gentle soul; in the end it all proved to be more than he could bear. In a little over a year her brother was dead. This had the effect her mother desired; it deadened her to the pain and emotions, it left her caring little for herself or anyone else. Yet the woman had to be sure, be sure that her daughter was broken as entirely as she could be.

That was why Puraien was the next to enter the room. However it was not to be Persievth that would be his tormentor, that would inflict upon his little body the unimaginable pain. It was to be Carallian. As the final link in her training, her mother forced her to punish him, to torture the little brother that she had raised and loved. She was to torture him for as long as he could bear it without going mad and becoming numb to the pain, and then she was to kill him. But the girl still maintained something of the compassion her brother had taught her years ago, some tiny spark. Before his screams could much more than echo off of the walls of the room, she had jammed the crop into his chest and twisted it with all of her might, killing him instantly. That last spark died with him. Her mother was not pleased with the breach of her orders. Carallian was placed back in the device and punished for three days without pause before her mother finally grew too tired to carry on. Dropping the shattered and pain ridden girl to the floor she moved to the chair, collapsing into it and slumping against the table. A few moments later and she was asleep, but not without the promise that the punishment would recommence upon her awaking. Though she was barely able to see let alone move, and though her mind was almost as shattered as her body, Carallian slowly crawled her way to her mother’s side. Struggling to her feet she grabbed the crop from where it lay on the table, gasping in surprise as it sent pain shooting through her arm and into the rest of her body. It was all she had left to force the pain back, to place it in the back of her mind for the time being. Perhaps fully rested or perhaps sensing something, which would never be known, her mother suddenly awoke; looking up groggily and blinking in confusion as she tried to work out the picture in front of her. When it finally clicked that Carallian was standing holding the crop she shrieked in fury, lunging for her daughter’s throat. The last thing she saw was the merciless pink pits above her as the crop was shoved through her eye and into her brain, the pain exploding through her and ending her life.

Nearly a week later, she was recovered enough to venture outside the room, stepping forth into the darkness of night. Outside the door her father waited patiently for his mistress to emerge, unknowing that she would never step forth again. She knew that he was broken to the point that he could not function beyond what he was ordered, knew that he would sit there until he starved to death. Though her eyes showed it not, she took mercy on him, ending his life quickly as she had done for her brother. With slow, measured strides she made her way towards the door to her family’s home, fully intending to leave and never return. Halfway there however she was met by a man, a representative of the Elders that ruled over the boogies. He had come because the presence of her mother had been requested in dealing with several upstarts that were going against the wishes of the Elders. Since her mother was deceased, the commission was given to her instead, and she quickly and easily dispatched with it. After the assignment she was asked to join the ranks of those the Elders employed to discipline those that did not know her place in Wonderland. With no hesitation she acceded the request.

From that day to this her life became her work, punishing those that sought interests that were not what the Elders saw as beneficial to boogiekind as a whole, and training them so that they would not make the mistake in the future. At first she was merely a subordinate, just another faceless, nameless peon amongst the many. But her mother had taught her well the ways she needed to succeed in this line of work, and it was in short order that she began to rise above the others, to prove herself worthy of greater praise. In only a few short millennia she had risen above all of the others, had come to be known as the very best there was in what she did. As such her charges became fewer, but much more prominent. No longer was she punishing traders and thieves, but aristocrats and nobility. Her tasks were not merely limited to training upstarts, but those who would follow her in directing the work of the Elders. She became the rod to their guiding hand, executing their wishes where they could not interfere directly. For millenia it has been she that has insured the denizens of this land behave in a manner that is befitting their station. And now she has been gifted an assignment of creator magnitude than ever before. To find and punish every last member of the so called ‘rebellion’, and to guarantee those responsible for this massive failure know intimately the price of their incompetence. [/size]