Thorn

_Character Profile_1

1. Name: Thorn
2. Last Name: N/A (due to her mother's position, she never really had one)
3. Age: Mid/Late 30's
4. Gender: Female
5. Species: Human with black wings
6. Bodily Appearance: sharp, dark eyes, shoulder length dark hair (usually tied up), pale skin, elf-like face, willowy, exceptionally dark wings
7. Origin: Forgotten child of Stormcaller (see story, Pt 36), raised to evil standards, loved by few forgotten by none
8. Love Interest/s: only love of her life is her husband, though she forgot why for some time and leaves, but remembers in the end
9. Likes & Dislikes: likes anything to nurse her hurt and hatred and despises anything that makes her feel weak or vulnerable, loves to show her power, both in mystical ways and social, adores large parties where everyone knows who she is and what she can do to them
10. Virtues: she loves her family and does whatever she can to protect them, even if she won't let them realize it
11. Vices: gives in to past pains; nurses them, gives in to the people around her and does whatever she can to make herself feel in power
12. Ambition/Desire: become what people see her as, but at the same time she desires to break free from the standards set upon her
13. Conflict
14. Vocation/Calling: a witch who feels she needs her powers to overcome whatever she faces
15. Additional Notes: one of the deeper characters (probably moreso than the main character of this novel) thorn undergoes several different personality changes, or so it would seem to the reader. She was introduced as a minor role and rather developed a life of her own that kept the readers guessing until the end when she got her happy ending rather than the death originally intended for her. She finishes off her role by saving the daughter she had condemned for being everything she once was, everything she lost, and everything she could never be again.2


Thorn looked out over the dance floor, her glass shoes clicking as she walked. Her white dress, in sharp contrast to her dark wings, flowed to the invisble breeze of the music and a golden path seemed to open up before her. Her eyes closed and her limbs threatened to go into a beautiful dance that she would soon lose control of. /No/ the young woman thougt to herself. /Not now, not ever again./ The Dancer was what her mother had called her. Mother... no such thing, not in a place such as this with the people hiding behind masks and unaturally sharp teeth. /They don't even need masks/ she thought. /All they need is to be beset by blood lust.../
She looked across the room and her heart stopped. /What heart? No heart, not for the wicked.../ She picked up a mask off the table, paying little mind to the exclamation as someone or other wondered where their mask had gone, and glided over to him. He made a stately bow and offered her his arm. She took it with a cold sort of grace and the music played. It was an empty, haunting tune that would stay and make her feet twitch for years. /Pull away/ they whispered. /Pull away and let us glide, free from sorrow.../ But she did not pull away. She knelt in closer and whispered into his ear, "Do you remember me?" She got no answer, but the music kept going and her blood was pounding in her head. Her temper rose as the tempo to the music sped up. /Answer the damn question/ she thought, but she held her tongue. She would not give this slime the privalage to hear her speak anymore. He danced her out onto the balcony. He seemed about to speak when she pushed him over the wall.3

http://storywrite.com/story/30215