Arabella Willowbrooke - Vampire

Name: Arabella Willowbrooke

Nickname: Ari, Bella, Belle

Age: 871 | 23

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Occupation: Equestrian Trainer/Coach/Competitor

Appearance: Arabella is the embodiment of your typical southern belle. Luscious blonde locks cascade over her shoulders, coming to an end mid way down her back and hang with a natural curl that most would envy. Dark navy blue eyes adorn her charming face, and her smile can certainly light up a room. Arabella is short in stature, standing in at a mere 5'3", though this is by no means an indication of her strength. Having dedicated her life to horses, she is quite the powerhouse, and can certainly handle her own. While she is not stick thin like some women, she is far from large. She is a healthy 117lbs for her short size, and is very well toned, especially in her legs. Her style is fairly casual, and she can more often than not be found in her blue jeans, a tank top, cowboy boots and her cowboy hat, though she knows how to clean up and will sport a nice dress should the occasion strike.

Human Photo:


Race: Vampire

Rank Requested: Knight

Specialization: Mind Reading


Height: 5'3

Weight: 117lbs

Eye Color: Navy Blue

Hair Color: Blonde

Identifying Marks: Small horseshoe tattoo on the inside of her right wrist

Face Claim: Carrie Underwood
Personality: Arabella is a sweet girl. She is kind hearted, good natured, and easy going. She hates being the centre of attention, and is quite content keeping to herself and her animals. Conflict is something she will go above and beyond to avoid, as it stresses her out a great deal. She has a tendency to put others before herself, often times even when it should be the other way around. But, just because she is a southern sweetheart, does not mean she is to be taken lightly. "Though she is little, she is fierce" and she will stand up for what she believes in and for those she cares about, though that number tends to be fairly small. After being turned, she made the mistake of attaching herself to mortals, and as a result, was devastated when they inevitably died. Because she has felt this loss, time and time again, she tends not to let many close to her to protect herself. She has zero tolerance for arrogance and pig headed individuals, and will speak her mind readily should the situation call for it. She adores her horses, and the other miscellaneous animals that call her farm home. She would far sooner turn away another vampire than she would an animal. Family is a sore topic for the southern belle, and she avoids discussing it at all costs.

Likes:
Horses
Country Music
Playing Guitar
Apple Pie
Reading
Hiking
Singing

Dislikes:
Change
Ignorance
Her Father
Being the centre of attention
Liars

Habits: Arabella is a creature of habit. Up at the crack of dawn every morning, her horses are her priority. If she is not mixing feed, she's mucking stalls. If she isn't in the barn, she is out in the ring working the horses or coaching lessons. If you manage to catch her away from her horses, chances are, there will be a melody on her lips, or a guitar in her hand. Music has always held a deep place for her, and she finds solace within it. You could consider her old school in the sense that she rarely uses technology. She has a cellphone, but mostly for work purposes, and computers? Shes better off without them. A warm cup of tea and a good book after a long day out on the farm is just fine for her. She wears an antique ring on her right hand, on that belonged to her mother that she never takes off. When she is nervous or stressed, she will fidget with the ring relentlessly.

History: The year 2000. A new millennium, and what was supposed to be the bright new future for Jackson and Melinda Willowbrooke. The happy couple were expecting their first child, a baby girl, and the start of their precious family. But things did not go as planned. Complications arose with the pregnancy, and the doctors had informed the weary couple that the choice was theirs. They could continue with the pregnancy and take the risk of both mother and child losing their lives, or they could terminate the pregnancy. For Jackson, the choice was clear. They could always try again, there was no reason for Melinda to risk her own life for the sake of this unborn child. They could try again. But Melinda would have no part in it. She would see this through, no matter the risks. Her decision was final, but at the cost of putting a strain on their relationship.

The next few months were painstaking. Ever day that went by, Melinda was in pain, struggling with the pregnancy, and though Jackson was by her side every step of the way, he resented the child that grew within her womb. He was watching his wife die before his very eyes, and it was because of the child. But, Melinda held on, and 2 weeks before her due date, it had begun. Awoken in the middle of the night to her water breaking, Melinda cried out in pain as the contractions had begun. This was it. Wide eyed and frantic, Jackson gathered her things and her, and immediately made for the hospital. Though the distance was not that far, the drive seemed to take forever. White knuckled and trying to sooth his ailing wife, he drove like a bat out of hell with only one thing on his mind, and that was getting his wife into the doctors care as soon as possible.

The hours that followed were painstaking. Doctors rushed Melinda to the OR immediately upon arrival, forcing Jackson to wait, helpless and afraid in the waiting room. Pacing back and forth, every so often glancing up at the door in hopes of some news, he finally stopped dead in his tracks when the doctor cleared his throat, a somber look upon his face. "How is she? Is she ok? Tell me something, anything." he pleaded, desperate for anything at this point. "Im sorry Mr. Willowbrooke, but your wife did not make it. We did everything we could to save them both, but she was too far gone by the time we had managed to safely deliver your daughter. I am sorry for your loss." the doctor said, his tone was heavy, and filled with remorse for the grieving father before him. Emotions consumed Jackson at this point; Rage, sorrow, helplessness, regret. His Melinda was gone, and all he had left was the thing that had killed her. How was he to raise a child he resented? Flooded with anger, he snapped back harshly at the doctor, "How could you let her die?! I told you that she came first! That if there had to be a choice, that it was her!" his words cutting through the silence like a razor blade. "Sir, calm down. I understand that was your wish, but your wife, she had her own wishes. She gave her express permission, and made it very clear that the baby was to come first. I cannot begin to understand the pain you must be going through, but your daughter needs you. You may see her when you wish." and with that, he took his leave.

It took Jackson some time to calm himself, to push down the anger that he held for the infant before he could bring himself to see her. Slinking into the room where she slept, he stopped at the end of her crib and gazed down at the sleeping babe. Emotions hit him again like a freight train. She would look just like her mother, of this he was certain, but how could he raise her, knowing that she had stolen the one thing he loved more than life itself? Slowly, and wearily, he reached out to touch her soft skin, but just before he did so, the sleeping baby moved and made the softest of noises, causing Jackson to retract and shy away. How was he supposed to do this? He knew nothing about caring for a baby. Sighing, he gripped the edge of the crib and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before glancing down at the child once more. "What am I to do with you..Arabella." he whispered. They had discussed names plenty, though had not yet settled on one for certain, but as he said her name, he knew that was the one. His little Bella.

Nine years to the very day had passed and an enthusiastic young girl came bounding down the isle of the barn, her blonde curls bouncing with every stride. "Granddad! Granddad!" she shouted in search of her grandfather. Tiny pink cowboy boots came to a skidding halt as she passed the tack room and caught a glimpse of her grandfather. Turning on her heel, she darted into the tack room where her grandfather was cleaning his saddle. "Granddad! Guess what day it is!! Guess guess!" she chirped ecstatically, nearly bounding right out of her boots. With a grin across his aged face, he set down the saddle soap and leaned against the horn of the saddle. "Why of course I know what day it is sugar. It's Thursday." he said simply, his southern drawl leeching heavily into his speech. Her eager smile immediately turned into a disappointed frown and she crossed her arms and stomped her feet. "No! It's my birthday!" she said with a huff. With a hearty chuckle, he kneeled down on one knee in front of her and tucked a curl behind her ear, tipping her chin up "Of course I know it's your birthday sweetpea. I have a surprise for you." he added with a cheeky grin. Elated, she immediately perked up, her dark blue eyes beaming and her smile nearly consuming her face, "You do?!! Is Daddy home?!? He promised he would be home for my birthday!" she squealed, barely able to contain her excitement. Momentarily, her grandfathers grin turned into a furrowed frown at the mention of her father, but her quickly hid it with another smile. "No sweetpea, your daddy aint home yet. But he should be here real soon alright? Now come with me, your surprise is probably gettin' mighty hungry by now." he teased, lightly tickling her stomach before standing up and walking out of the barn.

With a bouncing Arabella in tow, her Grandfather lead her out to the pasture behind the barn, where a beautiful grey welsh pony stood in the field nibbling at the new spring grass. Upon seeing the gelding, Arabella stopped dead in her tracks and snapped her gaze up to her grandfather with questioning eyes. He responded with a simple, silent nod of his head, and with that, she was off. She raced towards the fence, clambering up the boards to the top where she rested her elbows and looked out at the pony. Seeing the small girl on the fence, the gelding raised his head and nickered, trotting over the the fence line. Arabella squealed in excitement and held her hand out to which the nosey pony began immediately investigating for treats. "Granddad he's beautiful! Is he really mine? What's his name?" she asked, barely able to tear her eyes off him for a second to glance back at her grandfather who was making his way over to the fence. Placing one foot up on the bottom board, he leaned against the railing, "Of course he's yours sweetpea. Happy Birthday. His name is Trigger, and he's all yours, but! You're gunna have to take care of 'im. You'll have to get up in the mornings an' help me feed him, turn him out into his pen, clean out his stall. And you'll have to ride 'im a few times a week at least." he said firmly. Nodding her head vigorously while scratching Trigger's cheek, she responded, "Of course! Oh thank you thank you granddad. I love him! Can I ride him right now?!?!" she asked eagerly. "Not right now pumpkin. Let 'im get settled in for a day or two before we start ridin' him. But you can help me get his stall ready." he added before turning away from the fence and heading back towards the barn. Giving the pony one last scratch, and a kiss on the nose, she bounded after her grandfather to the barn.

That day had passed, and just like the birthday before that, and the one before that, her fathers promise had been an empty one. She barely saw her father, and when she did, he was drunk. Her grandfather did everything he could to protect Arabella from seeing her father like that, but there was only so much he could do. Jackson worked for 6 weeks at a time, and then was home for a week before going back. During that week, there was nothing but arguments between her father and grandfather. During that week she would find herself making any excuse to be out with the horses, even if that meant simply towing her guitar and a book out into Trigger's stall to hide away from the fighting. She loved her grandfather, and while she tried to get along with her father, he never seemed to put any effort into being a dad. She could never understand why he resented her so much. She was his daughter, wasn't he supposed to love her?

Years went by in this vicious circle. Arabella buried herself in school, her music, and her riding. Though it was far from perfect, it was predictable, that was until her grandfather started to grow ill. He had been diagnosed with cancer, and the doctors had told him he had a mere 3 months to live. She was 16 at the time, and her whole world was turned upside down. She had never known her grandmother as she had died long before she was born. Her mother had died giving birth to her, her father despised her, and now the one person who truly cared about her was going to be taken from her. Nights that had previously been spend playing her guitar and singing in Triggers stall, were now spent at her grandfathers bedside. He had refused to spend his last months in a hospital, so Arabella had vowed to make his remaining time as pleasant and carefree as possible. This night he passed away, she had fallen asleep in the chair next to his bed, her hand in his. She would never forget the last words he said to her that night, "Sweetpea, you are a beautiful, talented young lady. You have your momma's heart, and determination. You don't let anyone stand in the way of what you want you hear?"

The next two years of her life were hell. Her father had sold the farm, and with it, her darling Trigger. He moved them into a tiny apartment in the city. Arabella had never felt so out of place. She had lost everything. It was at this point that she threw herself into her music, something that no one could take from her. On the day she graduated, she looked out into the crowd, scanning for her fathers face, but he was no where to be found. She expected to feel betrayed, let down, disappointed that her father was not there to see his little girl graduate, but she felt nothing. She was numb to it all at this point, and it was then that she knew she had to leave. She could not endure this any longer. When she arrived home, to no surprise she found her father, passed out on the couch with an empty bottle of bourbon in hand. Disgusted by the sight, she snuck off to her room and packed her things. Suitcase and guitar in hand, she stopped as she reached the door and took one look back. Her eyes glanced around at the dark apartment, then down to the mess of a living room, and her father on the couch. She would not miss this, she would not miss any of this. She would be so much more than this, she owed it to herself, and to her grandfather.

And so, she set out for Nashville, the home of country music, determined to make a name for herself. It was hard at first, but the day finally came when she caught her big break. In the blink of an eye, everything changed for the southern beauty. Contracts here, tour dates there, album release here, everything was perfect. By the time she hit 21, she was one of the biggest names in country music and she could not have been happier. That was until she received a phone call one night from a blocked number. Wearily, she answered the phone, and froze when she heard the voice on the other end. "Hey darlin, its your daddy. How are you." he said, acting as if nothing were wrong. Rage swelled within her. How dare he call her after not having heard a single word from him since the day she left. She had never even gotten a call asking where she was, asking if she was ok. "Don't call me again. I have nothin' to say to you." she snapped and hung up. The next few months were filled with countless messages on her cellphone, to her managers phone, all desperate attempts to gain something from the wealth that Arabella had come by. She was sickened that he would stoop so low as to try and get something from her, when he deserved nothing.

Anger drove her to drink that night. The young starlette found herself out on the town attempting to drown the memories that she so desperately wished to forget. The handsome dark stranger she met that night was certainly a help in forgetting the woes of the day. They drank, sung and danced the night away, though Arabella thought nothing of it, that was until when she woke up. Groggy eyed, head pounding, and a strange feeling all over was what she woke up to. Great, just what she needed, a hangover, though she shouldn't be surprised what with the amount of alcohol that she had consumed the night before. But when she sat up, something was wrong, so very wrong. This did not feel like a normal hangover. She felt ... different. She was thirsty, oh so thirsty. Stumbling to her feet, she shuffled through her house to her kitchen and reached for a glass. Flipping on the tap, she filled the glass and chugged it back, but to no avail. The thirst was still so very much present. Filling the glass 3 more times, without an change in the dry burn in her throat, she began to panic. She stumbled to the living room in search of her phone, her head was spinning, and her throat still burning. She searched the contents of her purse, cursing when it was no where in sight. But she stopped dead in her tracks when she heard a voice from behind her. "Looking for this?" the sultry voice cooed. She spun around to see the man from last night standing in the doorway, holding her phone out to her.

Why was he here? Had she brought him home last night? Oh god what had happened? She barely remembered most of last night. "What happened last night? What's wrong with me? Why do I feel so... " she began, searching for words to describe how she felt. "Thirsty? A little dizzy? Overwhelmed?" he began and took a few steps towards her, his hazel eyes roaming over her. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. "You see dear Arabella. You are a vampire, courtesies of moi. Something so precious, so beautiful and talented should be eternal, and now. You shall be." he said with a devlish grin. Arabella could not speak. She could not comprehend what he was saying. He must be mad. Absolutely insane. There was no such thing as vampires. They only existed in stories. "It is a lot to take in, I understand you must be confused, but I assure you I speak the truth. There are things in this world you do not understand Ms. Willowbrooke. If you allow me, I will tell you all you need to know about this new life, but first, you must drink." he said, and handed her a flask. Still in shock, she opened the flask and the smell of blood hit her like a freight train. Immediately, driven by some wild instinct, she pushed the flask up to her lips and drank the thick liquid greedily. The burn in her throat had disappeared entirely, but as she realized just what she was doing, she dropped the flask and stared at the few drops of blood that stained the white carpet. There was no way... could this really be? Shaking, she looked up at him, torn between ripping his head off, and listening to what he had to say. She was angry that he had taken her life into his own hands, and done this to her, but she was scared. She hadn't a clue what to do with this newfound fate. Taking a deep breath, she finally spoke. "So now what?'

That marked the day that Nashville lost their country sweetheart. Headlines in newspapers read "Country star Arabella Willowbrooke missing and presumed dead" Rex had told her that she would need to give up this life she held until she could control herself, until she had figured out to deal with these newfound changes. She had listened to him, took in all he had to tell her, though it did not change the hatred that she harboured for him for doing this to her. She had never asked for this, but she could not change the past, only make the best of the future. Over the years that passed, she stayed with Rex, but only long enough to be confident enough in herself that she could control it. She wanted no part in the monster that she could be, and rather chose to do her best to try and fit in with the humans. When the day came that she left, she did so in the dead of night. Rex had gone to retrieve more blood bags, and in his absence, she fled. Where was she to go? Sure she had money, that was no problem, but what was there left for her. The world thought her dead, so what was she to do. She couldn't go back to Nashville, no. Someone would recognize her, but then suddenly it hit her. She made for Georgia, to her grandfathers old farm. The farm had sold when she was young, but the owners had died and the farm had remained empty ever since. She would hide away here for as long as it took until those who would remember her were gone, and she could start again.

And so now, that is her life. She hunkers down in one place, setting up shop in a new barn, with new clients, with new horses and stays just long enough to avoid suspicion when she fails to age, and then packs up, and starts somewhere new. With every town comes a new name, and a new story, only every now and then reverting back to using her true name. But the time has come for her to make the move once more, and so begins the next chapter for this southern sweetheart, who shall once more be known as Arabella Willowbrooke.

Father: Jackson | Status: Dead

Mother: Melinda| Status: Dead

Siblings: None | Status: N/A

Spouse/Mate: None | Status: N/A

Offspring: None | Status: N/A

Pets: *MUST be purchased from The Dark Passenger* Name | Breed | Status: Alive/Dead/Lost/Unknown

Other Important People: None currently | Status: N/A

Joining Keys: Keys have been removed from this profile ~ Eden