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Vellusia In-Depth

An in-depth look at Vellusia Thorne (because I didn’t want to crash TRP). Scroll to the bottom of this post for my RP Style.

“Rose petals and thyme…mother put them in my pillowcase at night. She said that it would protect me, keep me safe. It hasn’t—what good are a handful of crushed leaves and petals when the nightmares are real? But I do it anyway…I do it always.”

�� -Vellusia to the Druidess Fawnwood ((March, 2017))

Physical

Lower Middle-Class Gilnean: Vellusia’s eyes are a vibrant green, her hair afire with strands of auburn and ginger. Her skin is as pale as any child of a storm-wrought landscape, and is likely unable to tan. A spray of freckles cover her face, most densely gathered on the bridge of her nose. She is neither especially tall, nor short, but hers is an athletic build. Nimble and resilient, her physique is almost diametrically healthier than her mind.

Psychology

A Conflicting Nature: Human at her core, Vellusia is eager and excitable, with a spirit full of mischief and a heart that longs for adventure. She can, at times, be witty and sarcastic, and is unwaveringly loyal to her friends. Strong willed to a fault, Vellusia doesn’t suffer bullies quietly, and in an argument, tends to become frustrated and retaliatory.

Completely at odds with her original (human) personality, Vellusia is haunted by her Worgen Affliction, which she views as a curse. Due to complications with her transformations (see History below), Vellusia is horrified of “losing herself” to the animal within. She has no greater fear.

Having survived a difficult youth before the curse, Vellusia subconsciously fragments herself in times of duress—should she panic or suffer physical harm, she tends to accidentally slip into her own mind for protection leaving nothing but the animal within to steer the ship. This defense mechanism has come at a heavy cost: while in this state, Vell is nearly completely unconscious of her actions, and awakens later to discover what she has done.

Knowing that, as a Worgen, she had mauled a friend in the past, there is nothing in the world she fears more than herself—and that fear feeds into itself, perpetuating the cycle. Determined to fight this fate, Vellusia struggles to gain control, acceptance, and balance within herself...and within her wolf.

The Wolf Within: Vellusia (as a neglected child) had always felt a natural resistance to authority, though, if the position of leadership is made through friendship and respect, she will happily follow orders. Conversely, with Worgen blood now pulsing through her veins, she has a very difficult time denying an order made by whoever she perceives as the alpha of a group. She may resist, but eventually succumb to a command she disagrees with. Vellusia resents this aspect of herself, as she prefers to be a free-thinker and struggles with the concept of losing her free will to blind instinct.

Having suffered an exceptionally rocky transition to Worgen, Vellusia tends to trust and relate to humans most. She is unsettled by Worgen, not out of distaste, but out of insecurity. Their wolfen manner of expression reads as a foreign language to Vell--but, unable to deny her instincts entirely, she has begun to feel the “pull of the pack” when around confident Worgen. Still at odds with herself, the power of influence from Worgen to Worgen frightens her, and she attempts to avoid it.

Vellusia has subconsciously begun to see her human and elven companions as “her pack” and when a member is lost, she suffers deeply.

History

Early Life: Vellusia has told more than a few lies about her past. She spins colorful tales of heroism and tragedy, painting her family as brave and celebrated Watchmen, standing vigil at the mighty eastern-wall tower against a forsaken enemy. She has also been known to include stories about her 7 younger brothers--none of whom exist.

Much as she enjoys a good bit of mischief, Vellusia doesn’t lie for her own amusement, but rather, out of shame. The truth, the reality of her life is something she has always attempted to escape. Her pretty, red-haired mother, Amelia, was not a bold guardian, but suffered from extreme mental instability (manic schizophrenia). And her father, Edgar, was no heroic warrior of the wall, but an apathetic drunk.

The Thorne family had watched over the small tower beside the eastern bridge of scenic Gilneas for five generations, but Vellusia would be the small plot’s final inheritor. Her parents, as she knew them, were incapable of acting as true watchmen.

In rare moments of clarity, Amelia would tell Vellusia stories of brighter days before her breakdown and Edgar’s subsequent alcoholism. If there was a cause for Amelia’s madness, it was never spoken of, and Vellusia could not remember a time when her mother was sane. So frequent were her attacks, that Amelia could go from acting as a sweet and doting mother, to gibbering nonsense, to fits of hysteria and accidental self-harm. Her father only seemed to break from his stupors to save Amelia from damaging herself, just to return swiftly to the bottle.

Witnessing these frightening and chaotic swings at a young age were the cause of Vellusia’s subconscious creating safe places within her mind. Even as a child, she’d run off alone to play in the Blackwald, and pretend her life was something greater.

In many ways, Vellusia raised herself, struggling to balance caring for her parents and making the long trek to the Stormglen Village schoolhouse on foot. Her unfailing optimism and enthusiasm carried her through those early years, and though she was poorer than many of the other village children and was occasionally picked on by bullies, she strode forth, chin-high and determined for a better future.

As a young adult out of options for real change, Vellusia saw her broken parents and considered the very real possibility that she would share their fate: Well-intending, but stagnant, drunk and riddled with madness. Horrified by this concept, she ran away into nature, living in the Blackwald for two whole months. At first, she found living in the dark forest freeing, soothing--but survival on her own proved too difficult to last. Foraging and stealing (when she must) to survive, she finally decided her avoidance was futile: She would become just like her parents.

But returning home, Vellusia found her parents dead. Amelia seemed to have ingested paint in the shed, while Edgar had fallen down the narrow tower steps, his favorite tankard still in his hand. Though she mourned her parents, Vellusia saw their deaths as a mercy to their long suffering. On her last night in her small, tower home, she felt the impression that in some way, her parents had released her. Though, she would always carry the shame of their less-than-glorious deaths.

Packing up what little she had, Vellusia resolved to move to Gilneas-city and leave her troubled home-life far behind. Before departing, she found a false panel in her mother’s narrow closet and discovered an altar. The tiny table was topped with carved boxes, candle stumps and wooden sculptures of dancing figures coated in leaves and vines and thorns. Herb leaves and dried flowers littered the surfaces, alongside small jars of salts and liquids. At the forefront was a dark-silver, crudely wrought necklace: a locket with a five-pointed star across its face. Shocked by this discovery, Vellusia took the strange necklace, but allowed her mother’s secrets to rest.

Attack and Evacutation: Vellusia made her way to Gilneas-city and lived in a tiny hostel with four other women in the shoddy end of town for a mere three months before the Worgen curse tore across the land. Hurrying home after a long shift cleaning tables at the nearby tavern, Vellusia was cornered by a savage, red Worgen with bright yellow eyes. She attempted to reason with him, attempted to defend herself with a nearby plank of wood--but nothing would come between the snarling hunter and his prey.

Quick and violent, and completely devoid of human recognition, the Worgen slammed her against the nearest building and sank his teeth into his shoulder. He probably would have ripped her throat out if a passing nobleman hadn’t fired a shot into the beast’s back. The attacking Worgen whined, released Vellusia, and ran off into the bloody night.

The stretch of time that followed Vellusia’s bite was a blur of horror and delirium. Gilneas had fallen, and with it went Vellusia’s entire world. She doesn’t remember how exactly she survived the early days of her curse, or the evacuation of Gilneas, or the “cure” delivered by the Night Elves. Her transformations were never stable, sometimes overcoming her in her sleep, or in times of extreme stress. In addition to becoming a Worgen, she found herself changing into other animals as well: a large cat, a deer. Even when other afflicted Gilneans grew comfortable with their dual-forms, Vellusia remained lost in a disorienting tempest of animal-takeover.

After fleeing Gilneas, Vellusia befriended a fellow refugee, a Keel-Harbor girl named Collette Worthington. They looked after one another as the pair, and so many others, migrated to Stormwind--but not one day after their arrival, things went terribly wrong. Vellusia, having suffered a post-traumatic nightmare, shifted into her Worgen form and attacked the refugee camp. Awakening in bonds, Vellusia was horrified to hear that she had torn apart three tents before biting Collette’s throat and dragging her down the road. It’d taken four shifted-Worgen to break her from her rampage. The girl, Collette, was lucky to have survived, but she never again spoke to Vellusia--not even to hear her tear-streaked apology.

After that day, Vellusia kept to the shadows, drank more coffee than any human should, and avoided other people as much as possible. Awakening one morning in Elwynn forest beside a hunter’s trap, blood dripping down one shoulder, her long hair severed and laying in ribbons all around her (as she’d apparently torn herself free), she came to the conclusion that if she didn’t find help soon, she would die or worse, kill someone.

It is that realization that drives her to seek the aid of strangers. If the people of Stormwind cannot help her, who can?

Now: Vellusia has begun to make the first real friends she’s had in her life. With their help, she is on a path of recovery. She has, and continues to learn about herself, to grow from each and every experience, and to absorb the wisdom, trust, and acceptance offered to her. With these friendships at the heart of her evolution, Vellusia has already taken ground-breaking strides in the controlling her Worgen form--she refuses to allow herself to harm the people she cares about, and though her troubles are far from over, this has become her strength.

Having recently discovered that her mother had secretly been a harvest-witch before her decline, Vellusia has reclaimed Amelia’s Book of Shadows and seeks to unravel the mysteries within its pages. She hopes that here, she will come to discover the reason for Amelia’s madness, the key to her own shape-shifting complications, and perhaps connect to a magic that runs deeper in her bloodline than she’d ever known.

Vellusia hopes to return the help she’s received from her friends, and someday, to defend Azeroth and make a difference in her world.

((If you’re reading this, you deserve a medal. No, seriously, treat yourself. You’ve earned it!))

((OOC Corner)) My Roleplay Style

Deep RP ...with humor! OOC I’m very easy going and friendly. Though I’m no perfectionist, I prefer immersive RP, and enjoy allowing my character’s interactions with others actively to define how she feels and who she ultimately becomes. My character will remember most interactions, and develop lasting memories and feelings relating to those encounters. I also enjoy “day-to-day” RP as well as “epic” RP.

Although Vellusia has an intense history, she’s also always on the lookout for fun (if the situation allows for it) and hopes to embark on adventures of every kind. She loves a good joke and has been known to contribute some sarcastic and charismatic humor of her own.

OOC is OOC and IC is IC I say this only because I’d like to be super clear that my character is a character, completely independent of my own personality and feelings as a player. If your character throws a drink in Vellusia’s face or embroils themselves in an argument with her, I’m not going to be angry OOC. In fact, as long as everything is logical and true to character, I’ll probably be laughing. If your character flirts with Vellusia, I’m not going to ask you for a phone number. I have my life. Vellusia has hers. That, I believe, is the gist of it. Happy RPing!

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