Can I be one of the evil half-werewolf half-vamps? I like evil charries.

Name: Aline (not Penhallow)

Gender: Girl 

Creature: Werewolf who got bitten by a vampire

Age: 45/Was "Turned" (into a werewolf) at 14

Appearance: Shoulder-length black hair, glassy black eyes, pale skin, has a short jagged scar underneath her left eye.

Personality: Cold-hearted, vengeful, cares for almost nothing except herself and (somewhat) her pack.

Abilities: Super speed, strength, eyesight, etc. etc. like all vampires. Uh... and she can become a shadow. (as in SUPER-CAMOFLAUGE!)

Other: Second-in-command for the half-were half- vamp pack.

I hope it's okay that I'm evil! :P 

And if you don't like her being first in command we can change that!

Name: Watermelon (Mela) Grand

Gender: Girl 

Creature: Full blood vampire

Age: 106/14

Appearance: Pixie cut dark brown hair with long bangs pushed to the side and a side part, red eyes, slender, muscly and tall

Personality: Head-On, reacts on instinct, coven means everything to her

Abilities: All the vampire stuff plus a type of telepathy and a way to manipulate people’s thoughts.

Other: Hates her name and insists that everyone calls her Mela, First in command (??)

So should we start now?

Okay, I made this sound like Juliana was really young because by four years of age, I understood four years of age but tell me if I'm wrong. Oh and what's Juliana's appearence? Thanks for joining Oregano! I'll help you all I can!

Mela—

“It’s not safe. We can’t be captured. Remember the humansdon’t want us here.” I try to sound sweet. I’ve told Juliana the same thingover and over but she’s only four so it must be hard to understand.

Mela- 

Our coven is made up of myself and Juliana. I’m a full vampireand she’s a half-human/vampire. I knew her father. I used to belong to his clanbut then he resented his own daughter, I rescued her and we’ve been togetherever since.

She’s like my sister and at the same time I’m a mother to her.

I tenderly run my hand through her dark hair.

“Why can’t we go out?” She asks. Another question I’veanswered a million times.

“We’ll go out at night. It’s not safe in day time.”

Actually, it’s never safe but what should we do? We need food.

Ah, food. Another thing. I used to eat human meat but now, nowthat Juliana’s here, I try to be vegetarian. I’ve had a few ”splurges” thoughbut I try not to.

“I’m hungry.” Another sentence that I’ve heard so often.

“We’ll get food soon. Go to sleep.” I stroke Juliana’s hair asshe lies down in my lap.

Okay, I made this sound like Juliana was really young because by four years of age, I understood four years of age but tell me if I'm wrong. Oh and what's Juliana's appearence? Thanks for joining Oregano! I'll help you all I can!

Mela—

“It’s not safe. We can’t be captured. Remember the humansdon’t want us here.” I try to sound sweet. I’ve told Juliana the same thingover and over but she’s only four so it must be hard to understand.

Mela- 

Our coven is made up of myself and Juliana. I’m a full vampireand she’s a half-human/vampire. I knew her father. I used to belong to his clanbut then he resented his own daughter, I rescued her and we’ve been togetherever since.

She’s like my sister and at the same time I’m a mother to her.

I tenderly run my hand through her dark hair.

“Why can’t we go out?” She asks. Another question I’veanswered a million times.

“We’ll go out at night. It’s not safe in day time.”

Actually, it’s never safe but what should we do? We need food.

Ah, food. Another thing. I used to eat human meat but now, nowthat Juliana’s here, I try to be vegetarian. I’ve had a few ”splurges” thoughbut I try not to.

“I’m hungry.” Another sentence that I’ve heard so often.

“We’ll get food soon. Go to sleep.” I stroke Juliana’s hair asshe lies down in my lap.

I realize this is a bit late, but can I join?

(Also, for the record, the technical term for human/vampire hybrids is dhampir(s). Or dhampyr, if you prefer. Not really important, but it's a bit more convenient than going around calling people half human half vampire crossbreeds all the time. As for the werewolf/vampires, I would suggest something along the lines of werepires (or vampwolves, except that sounds silly), for similar reasons.)

Name: Morana

Species: Vampire

Age: 19 when turned; now approaching the century mark.

Appearance: Tall, mid-length black hair. Generally wears black. Extremely thin, as she was living in the depths of poverty when she was turned. Lips dry and cracked. Extremely pallid, with hints of jaundice left over from her human years. Eyes perpetually bloodshot. Never wears shoes. 

Personality: Cold, calculating. Fairly intelligent, extremely shrewd. Prone to extreme jealousy and fits of icy rage when provoked. Occasionally cruel, capable of extreme kindness to a handful of close confidants. Irritable during the spring and summer. Charming when necessary. Obsessed with ice, the concept of ice, and hypothermia.

Sparklepire powers: Pyrokinesis.

Weaknesses Because Vampires Need Them: Pathological, deep-seated hatred and fear of lemons and wild roses. Unable to enter homes without invitation. Slight arithmomania.

Alliance(s): Possibly an assassin for the Volturi. Possibly an agent of the old Romanian regime. Possibly she's just stringing them both along as a lark. 

For kicks, I may join Olive in having an Evil™ werepire character. Who I will write up now because it's two AM and these sorts of things ALWAYS sound like a good idea at two AM. 

Name: Mos, nickname Mozzy.

Species: As stated, werepire.

Age: 15 when bitten, now 30.

Appearance: Short. Tangled, esophagus-coloured hair (sorry, it's two AM and that's the best I can do. If you have never seen an esophagus... take an anatomy course.) Broadish shoulders. Missing three fingers on one hand courtesy of the Volturi. Abnormally large feet. Calloused hands.

Personality: Something of a bruiser. Kind to orphans, small mammals, and people who sell ice cream in parks. Despises vampires with every fiber of his being, including himself; in this regard he is like Othar Tryggvassen, Gentleman Adventurer with "vampires" replacing "Sparks" ((if you do not know who Othar is, go read Girl Genius. Go. Go now.)). Was an aspiring musician before uncontrollable rage (were-) and thirst (-pire) largely put a stop to his dreams. Still slightly bitter about that last. 

Sparklepire powers: Mimicry; he can imitate the mannerisms and, to an extent, the appearance of other people perfectly.

Vampire Weaknesses: Extreme, potentially fatal allergic response to pure silver. 

Alliance(s): If you are a vampire, dhampir, werepire, or in any way descended from one of the above, he hates your guts.  

((For the record, yes, all the weaknesses are founded in actual folklore. Yes, even the lemons. Also I am going with the Terry Pratchett method of determining vamp traits, which is basically 'all vampire myths are true, but they don't necessarily apply to all vampires.' ...Which also means that, no, my vampires do not sparkle, they are usually normal-looking, if uncomfortable, in sunlight, but occasionally explode if caught unawares (i.e. suddenly opened curtains on a sunny day, or unexpected camera flashes). To guard against this eventuality, Morana wears a vial of blood a la Otto von Chriek (and if you do not know who that is, go read The Truth. Now.), so that if it happens she will reform immediately rather than having to wait for someone else to dribble blood on her ashes.

For the... other record, since I believe Meyer once stated that "gifts" are determined by extremely prominent traits during the human life [leading to a general WTH with Benjamin in BD, but I guess maybe he was a bender, possibly the Avatar, in a past life? YES! He's totally a vamp'd Avatar NEW CANON YEAH]: Morana was an occasional arsonist, and Mozzy was a conman.))

Except that it just occurred to me that, while awesome, pyrokinesis does not fit the archetype of Morana's character at all. Should be something... chilly. What would that be, paggokinetic? Telepaggos? (I like telepaggos, and I think it would be more correct anyway since tele- means distant [as in influencing from a distance, in this case and in the case of, say, telepathy]. I don't know. We'll go with paggokinetic, it's more in keeping with the pattern of extant terms.) (somewhere, a linguist is weeping). ((...Paggos is Greek for ice, right?)) As far as justification goes, see: obsession with hypothermia. UGH IT'S THREE A.M. GOING TO SLEEP NOW.

 Thank you so much for joining, TNÖ! And your special powers... Umm... I have no idea what dome of those meant. Asophogas color hair? Pinkish? 

Werepire and Dhampyr are our new terms. Okay... 

It rained. It usually did, this time of year. The drops beat out a cacophonous tattoo against the tin roof overhead. It complemented the creaking of the rest of the shed rather nicely.

For a given value of nice, anyway.

Morana breathed in until her lungs ached in protest, and went still again as she tasted the intake.

Exhaust fumes. Gasoline. Asphalt. Rubber. Mold. Slight hints of petrichor. The bitter tang of blood, lingering everywhere even though no living creature in its right mind would be out on a night like this. Rust. Tiny, bare suggestions of something... else.

She exhaled. 

Inhaled.

Closed her eyes.

One and a half blocks east, masked by the smells of the dingy little town. The stodgy motel, room... 121? 123? One normal, aniseed and ice with hints of iron, and the other... The other smelled overwhelmingly of cinnamon. 

Ah, halfbreeds. What would we do without them? She exhaled.

Morana got to her feet and ghosted out of the shed. The door frosted shut behind her.

Outside, the rain made visibility nigh impossible even for her own supernatural eyes. So she shut them, and navigated by sound and smell and, occasionally, touch. It took her maybe two minutes to get up to the rooftops and navigate to the little motel. The scent of her target grew stronger with every step; by the time she landed lightly on their windowsill, it was almost overwhelming. 

She looked in. The vampire was more or less as Morana had expected, burly, tall, a haircut of convenience disguised as a fashion statement. Everything about her screamed cold-hearted indifference, except for the remarkably tender way she behaved towards her companion. The dhampir, on the other hand, reminded Morana forcibly of the Claudia archetype. Tiny and cherubic. 

Morana watched the pair of them for a minute, one hand resting gently against the glass. She flexed her fingers, and tendrils of ice started to snake away from her palm. The glass creaked, so softly that the so-called coven on the inside didn’t hear it over the rain. 

She waited until the frost reached the edges of the pane, and then pushed very slightly.

The window shattered.