ALAVARA, lailah tamara

[LAILAH T. ALAVARA]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, border-left: #3A4748 8px solid; border-right: #839175 2px dashed; background: #d8d8d8; padding-top: 16px; padding-right: 16px; padding-left: 16px; padding-bottom: 12px; -moz-border-radius: 10px; width: 368px;] lailah tamara alavara i walked the world to you, babe. a thousand miles for you. i dried your tears of pain. a million times to you. i'd sell my soul for you, babe. for money to burn for you. i'd give you all and have none, babe just to, just to, just to have you here by me ----- IS YOUR CHARACTER IN SUPPORT OF THE REBELS? : Rebels? What Rebels? Oh...but that's so silly! Why would be people be so upset over the queen marrying a human. They're no different, really, just magical and I've seen humans in the villages performing their own magic. I think they call themselves magicians or something. I don't know. I don't meddle where my nose wouldn't be wanted. I just stay with the elves and in my tree and wait for my blue eyed boy. I don't like fighting especially when it's so unnecessary and pointless. War is ugly and those rebels must be too. ----- WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTERS RACE? : oh pretty you're so silly! I'm an elf. I'm a little shorter than the others but not so much shorter! Look I even have stupid ears. I don't like them much though and you can't touch them. I don't like people touching my ears. Not even my pretty. Nobody ever touches my ears except me and then I tuck them away. Out of sight, out of mind, you see? ----- WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTERS OCCUPATION? : I don't have one really I just do lots of things all at once. I make things, things I can sell, and if I can't do that I take. My sister called me a magpie. she said I have an eye for shiny things. pretty things. I cut and bash and stitch and sew and I piece things together and make extra pretty things and I get gold for them. I don't like gold though I like the fancy brass buttons the guards have on their jackets. I steal those. they take their jackets off by the lake and they don't see me creeping' up nice and quiet and snipping off their fancy brass buttons. sip, sip! I've never been caught and mother doesn't approve but she doesn't complain much. not since sister ran away. I think she's just grateful to have a daughter around not that I'm that much to show for my family. they call me mad, the others, say I'm not quite right but I know things and the trees tell me I ought not to listen to spiteful people so I don't. I'm not crazy, they are, nasty spiteful snakies. ----- FREE STYLE APP STARTS HERE. MAKE SURE YOU COVER THE BASICS! INCLUDE ENOUGH SO WE HAVE A GOOD UNDERSTANDING OF YOUR CHARACTER AND WHERE THEY STAND. ----- The autumn weather was harsh but the cold winds of the north sea cut Niamh to the bone as she dropped the bucket in her hand. In earlier years portkeys never worked, and they still didn't now usually, but after calling in several favours the slender woman had got herself a return ticket from London to the prison and back again the only condition that she spend no more than an hour there before the portkey was destroyed the other end. Niamh had always been a woman who could appreciate time limits but even for her the deadline would be tight. She'd gone over plans of the building, gone over the best routes to take, gone over the finer details slowly; she wanted Tyus out and she'd kill anyone who stood in her way. Unzipping her jacket she climbed over the wave worn rocks she looked around. Outside was silent, the aurors were inside guarding every door and corridor of cells and while she was a fearless sort of woman she'd always had someone by her side. After being paired up by Draco it had taken them awhile to trust each other, if one could be so generous and call it trust, they were cut from the same cloth. Vicious, unremorseful with a genuine love for the kill they both had the alpha mentality in them making them a formidable force of reckoning. On the outside Azkaban looked like a solid block with the odd window here and there it's door concealed from sight until someone with the authorization stepped in front of it and luckily for her she had the clearance; they might as well have given her a green light to start a massacre. The door faded into view and she took a step inside, hand pulling out her wand. The prison had the same smell as the ministry building; cleaning products and over paid idiots brandishing wands but she ignored it as she strolled through the building casting a killing curse or explosive spell as she went leaving behind death and destruction as she went. Death sat on the English woman's right shoulder and malice sat on the left and both had saw fit to rid her of a conscience "this could've gone so much easier" she tutted to herself as she pressed her back to the wall as a curse missed her by a few inches. The spell hit the adjacent wall sending fragments of smaller bits of stone around the corridor "so much eas-" she started but she didn't finish as another was sent her way and with a high pitched shriek a blast of green shot free from her wand hitting an unshaven guard in the chest. Even if they'd let her walk straight through and let him go she'd have still killed them. Why? Because they wouldn't hesitate to kill her or both as they walked away. It was dog eat dog it always had been and if she wasn't getting hunted down she was hunting someone else down. Much the same continued; curses, walls blasted, wood chips flying as cell doors came away from their frames. Prisoners ran out from their cells, others stayed slumped inside too weak to move, and she glorified in the riot she'd created. Hurrying up more stairs she got to his level and found it semi clear save for two; two who'd meet their maker with two flicks and a twitch of a wand. Brushing her hair back off her face she brought her hand down to inspect the smear of blood over her fingertips grunting softly at the realisation that she hadn't managed to get to her goal unscathed "ashes to ashes, dust to dust, you all fall down" she mumbled to herself as she sauntered down the corridor. Hazel eyes peered through the barred door of his cell, a sharp smirk playing over her features "Banes" she purred through the metal bars eying her old partner "rumour has it you needed busting out." Typically she'd have teased, acted as if she wasn't going to bother, flaunted her cruelty but it wasn't wise with Tyus. Tyus was a dog on a choke chain, the type of dog that, if provoked, would break free of that chain and rip you apart though he'd have still done the same without the provocation. He was a live wire, unpredictable, and just as blood thirsty as Niamh; she loved him for it too. Running a hand down the handle side of the door her nails racked over the wood grain before they settled on the latches and bolts. She knew from past experience how heavily charmed those locks were after several months worth of time spent behind them and while her inner raven danced at the idea of working out which ones were on there she didn't have the time. Her heels sounded again as she took several steps away from the door before she pointed her wand and allowed half a dozen spells to roll off her tongue each one hitting different points up and down the door. The old wood creaked, splitting swiftly, as shards of wood flicked around her but her main concern was getting him out after all she could pick splinters out of her skin later. Another spell sounded and the door swung open leaving behind a five inch piece still connected to the frame and there she stood all leather, sweat and blood with her mouth fixed in another smirk "hello, darling" always personal, always with the texture of melted chocolate, she stepped into the cell only pausing to wrinkle her nose distastefully "they've caged you like a human don't they know you're an animal?" Her eyebrow raised a little at her teasing as she slipped the backpack over her shoulders and tossed it over to him "get dressed we've got hell to raise." And with that said she walked out of the cell with her wand held aloof exposing his own wand holding her hair securing in the messy knot at the back of her head. your name; minnie -- age; 22 -- template by eliza @ shadowplay