Izevel Zambrano
Raven
Home...
This place had called her. Though such was a becon for those who seek to corrupt and deal in the dark. Which was likely the reasoning for the female’s appearance. The strength of the call summoning her like a fly to honey. A resonance that few could sense but was intoxicating to those that could.
So, she came, not in a flashy show.. No, she came when they would be unaware. She preferred to creep upon people much like a plague. Appearing quite when least expected. She knew of course her sire would know she came. It was after his blood that flowed through her veins. The very same blood she returned home to do proud instead of being off the radar and licking her wounds like a dog. No, No more. She was a mother karking Zambrano. Her father was the Butcher king. She would live up to expectations and perhaps even surpass them. Nothing was ever set in stone when it came to Izevel. She could be considered a slightly deranged wild card.. Depending on the perception of the person dealing with her.
When she arrived and made her way into her father’s dwelling, It was apparent she was quite out of place amongst the surroundings she found herself within.
Eyes closed for but a brief moment. Long thick black lashes lift to reveal those piercing emerald hues. An exhale left parted lips which then form a slight frown. She felt him before she had even reached her current location.
Such a calamitous aura and presence. Sensations of chaos and darkness beyond the scope of this realm. Familiarity struck a cord within the woman currently paused in her tracks. Symphonic in nature was this idle melody; Madness. Insanity. Distortion. Corruption. Chaos. Intoxication. Manipulation. Defacement. Defilement.
Such an irresistible gesticulation could not and would not be snubbed. Contrarily this beckoning, enticement of attention had brought about a sense of home within Izevel.
“Father...”
Her words flow with such intricacy and fluidity. Simple expressions and uncompleted terms seemed like honey flowing from the mouth of a poet. A composer with words to sound out a spell of enticement, a curse upon those who give in to such temptation.
Greeting made, she knew he knew she was here now it was a matter of waiting to see how he would take her sudden home-coming.
[member="Darth Carnifex"]
This place had called her. Though such was a becon for those who seek to corrupt and deal in the dark. Which was likely the reasoning for the female’s appearance. The strength of the call summoning her like a fly to honey. A resonance that few could sense but was intoxicating to those that could.
So, she came, not in a flashy show.. No, she came when they would be unaware. She preferred to creep upon people much like a plague. Appearing quite when least expected. She knew of course her sire would know she came. It was after his blood that flowed through her veins. The very same blood she returned home to do proud instead of being off the radar and licking her wounds like a dog. No, No more. She was a mother karking Zambrano. Her father was the Butcher king. She would live up to expectations and perhaps even surpass them. Nothing was ever set in stone when it came to Izevel. She could be considered a slightly deranged wild card.. Depending on the perception of the person dealing with her.
When she arrived and made her way into her father’s dwelling, It was apparent she was quite out of place amongst the surroundings she found herself within.
Eyes closed for but a brief moment. Long thick black lashes lift to reveal those piercing emerald hues. An exhale left parted lips which then form a slight frown. She felt him before she had even reached her current location.
Such a calamitous aura and presence. Sensations of chaos and darkness beyond the scope of this realm. Familiarity struck a cord within the woman currently paused in her tracks. Symphonic in nature was this idle melody; Madness. Insanity. Distortion. Corruption. Chaos. Intoxication. Manipulation. Defacement. Defilement.
Such an irresistible gesticulation could not and would not be snubbed. Contrarily this beckoning, enticement of attention had brought about a sense of home within Izevel.
“Father...”
Her words flow with such intricacy and fluidity. Simple expressions and uncompleted terms seemed like honey flowing from the mouth of a poet. A composer with words to sound out a spell of enticement, a curse upon those who give in to such temptation.
Greeting made, she knew he knew she was here now it was a matter of waiting to see how he would take her sudden home-coming.
[member="Darth Carnifex"]
