|| Elora Of Herindale ||

|| Elora of Herindale ||

Age: 24

Birthday: August 17th

Sexual Orientation: Bi-Curious

Position: Sub

Occupation: Princess

Personality: Kind, courageous, loyal, brave, nurturing

Princess Elora was from a loving family, she was also the sole heir to the throne of Herindale. She was already passed the typical age of being married off and it was beginning to become worrisome for the surrounding kingdoms. Why hadn’t the fair princess been married? It was becoming increasingly obvious that something was strange about the Kingdom of Herindale. Well, be as it may, Elora hadn’t wanted to marry. She didn’t want the throne. She didn’t want any of it. She simply wanted to help her people. She wanted nothing to do with the political aspect. She wanted to marry when she deemed it fit, not because it was what was expected of her.

As the days went by, Elora learned to harness the practical magic used by the Kingdom’s mage. It took time and patience but she was growing stronger every day. Once her parents had discovered this, she was banished. The only reason their Kingdom had a Mage in the first place was to keep the peace with the Brotherhood. They didn’t approve of the power that a Mage held. But while the people were told she had died in an ambush on her way from a neighboring town, the poor Princess was wandering through the low lying towns outside the Kingdom’s walls. Trying to get help from the others but it was no use. She had traveled for days, likely a week or even two. Learning from her magic that she was in fact not weak. She didn’t need anyone else, and finally she was able to see that. That’s where her story truly begins. As she’s wandering the forests of the Continent, training her magic and becoming stronger.

As he explained himself, she nodded. “I-I know you didn’t mean to do anything I was uncomfortable with. And I trust you, completely. I just, I haven’t been with anyone in a while…” she explained, hoping to ease his mind. “I don’t want you to go, but if you feel it’s best for now then I will support that decision.” Estella hated the way she wasn’t able to form a closer connection with anyone now. It made keeping friends, and lovers, more difficult.

“Have you been drinking? You look terrible.”-Estella to whoever you’re feeling!

Jim Street had been sitting with his head in his hands for almost twenty minutes thanks to the raging hangover he was suffering. Normally, he would still be in bed, but the team were called in on an emergency. "Is that easy to tell?" He asked her. "And please, don't yell. I swear it feels like there's been a truck dropped on my head. What are you doing here anyway?"

|| Dahlia Wolfe ||

Age: 26

Birthday: November 19th

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Position: Switch

Occupation: Elite Sniper/ Assassin/ Ex Hydra

Personality: Calculated, Calm, Charming, Bossy, Witty

Miss Dahlia Wolfe was once head of an elite kill squad that was run by Hydra. As Hydra slowly began to crumble, Wolfe decided she was fighting for the wrong side. It was a hard pill to swallow, seeing as she grew up in the organization. Both of her parents were devoted followers of their cause. Always doing as they were told without question, and when Dahlia began to question she was punished. When she disobeyed, she was tortured until she was broken. Broken into submission.

Dahlia’s life from the moment she was broken until she was finally freed was nothing but pain and suffering. Once she was freed, she was handed over to SHIELD. Only to be subjected to the same terror, just to be sure she was not still a pawn of the enemy. And when they finally deemed her an asset to be used when needed.

And now she lives in a small apartment in Washington D.C., alone and doing her best to acclimate to a world that is hers to navigate.

Estella jumped backwards as he bolted up. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” She said quickly, her hands retreating to her lap as she watched him. “It’s just me…just Estella.” She hummed, placing a gentle hand to his shoulder as she tried to calm him down. She knew that if she didn’t go about it right, that it could back fire and end horribly.

“Have you been drinking? You look terrible.”-Estella to whoever you’re feeling!

Jim Street had been sitting with his head in his hands for almost twenty minutes thanks to the raging hangover he was suffering. Normally, he would still be in bed, but the team were called in on an emergency. "Is that easy to tell?" He asked her. "And please, don't yell. I swear it feels like there's been a truck dropped on my head. What are you doing here anyway?"

Her voice was velvety soft as she spoke again, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart.” She whispered, her lips pressing against his temple. She knew how tough it could be , especially on a bad night. Trying to forget what constantly replays in your head. “I can get you a water or something if you’d like, maybe a glass of wine?”

“Have you been drinking? You look terrible.”-Estella to whoever you’re feeling!

Jim Street had been sitting with his head in his hands for almost twenty minutes thanks to the raging hangover he was suffering. Normally, he would still be in bed, but the team were called in on an emergency. "Is that easy to tell?" He asked her. "And please, don't yell. I swear it feels like there's been a truck dropped on my head. What are you doing here anyway?"

As he spoke up, her eyes began to tear up. She was so stupidly in love with him. She knew that going from friends to more could cause issues but he made it seem like it would be perfect. “You’re too good for me.” She laughed softly. “I-I didn’t mean to try and one up you or just over shadow your pain. I just thought that since you had trusted me, I can trust you.” Morganne explained, “You also can call me whatever you want. I’m not going to expect you to call me by a name you didn’t know I had.”

Her hands moved from his to his face, cupping his cheeks. “And just remember, I’m not going anywhere. The nightmares don’t bother me. Your past doesn’t define you, there’s so much more to love about you. More reasons to stay.”

“Have you been drinking? You look terrible.”-Estella to whoever you’re feeling!

Jim Street had been sitting with his head in his hands for almost twenty minutes thanks to the raging hangover he was suffering. Normally, he would still be in bed, but the team were called in on an emergency. "Is that easy to tell?" He asked her. "And please, don't yell. I swear it feels like there's been a truck dropped on my head. What are you doing here anyway?"