A b b e y
- Intro Video
Name: Abigail Philippa-Laurel Windsor
Nickname/s: Abbey, Abbeykins, Red, Kitty Cat
Meaning of Name: Hebrew meaning “my father’s joy”
Age: 30 (physically) 230 (biologically)
Date of Birth: August 10, 1789
Place of Birth: Botany Bay, Sydney, Australia
Height: 5’4 (164.5cm)
Weight: 116lbs (52.6kg)
Forced to fend for herself from a very young age, Abigail quickly learned that people were not to be trusted. Her fight or flight responses became a priority as small fingers worked tirelessly at the hole in the settlement’s chain link fence. She’d made herself scarce after the untimely death of her mother, and with her father absent and out of the picture, an unusual child like herself was often left to the wolves, figuratively speaking. During the day she would remain within the confines of the tent pitched for her pregnant mother, during the evening her sole focus became that fence and getting herself out of there. It took days, weeks, months before she’d acquired herself a hole large enough to slip her tiny frame through. Freedom. The horrors of Botany Bay would soon be in the wind behind her. Following the coastline and the smell of salt would’ve been the better idea, but stubborn as she is, she decided to head north before diverging east towards the coast. As a child, her sense of direction was poor. But as a shapeshifter, her animal and survival instincts would kick in, and like a homing beacon, the sea would beckon her. Freedom. That first touch of sand between her toes, the stickiness of the salty air licking at her skin, the roar of the waves colliding with the sand. Many nights would be spent traversing those endless stretches of sand. Great dunes would rise up, cutting against a backdrop of entangled flora; coastal banksia, tuckeroos, monterey cypress, pigs face, lomandra and pandanus palms.
The first transformation
Hellifyno, a place for new beginnings~
Her arrival upon the planet Hellifyno was unexpected. She was being hunted at the time of the portal’s appearance, four bloody paws loping through the sodden undergrowth, her pelt caked in sticks, leaf litter and mud. As she fumbled and fell forward, some kind of inevitably magical pull yanked her forward, away from the wheezing bullets that sought to perforate her flesh and put her down. When she came out on the other side, the smells were different, the landscapes blushing in the last rays of sunlight. Her first initial thought was to run, her ears swiveling like satellite dishes, listening. But no one comes. The wounds she’d acquired previously were still bleeding and were weighing heavily upon her frame with every lumbering step. When she finally collapsed, she would manage to do so on the steps of what she would come to know as the Blue Moon Tavern.
The house left behind, a cage of memories that lingered in walls and reflected in the furniture. Everything reminded her of him. Of them. Of the promises they’d made with their bodies, lips fashioned together in moments of forgotten passions. She was destined to forget everything eventually, but while there was still some part of her attached to that structure, she would have to come to terms with what happened.
- Who Am I...
the Sunflower among the Roses
- Romantic Interests
Blueberry pancakes, daffodils, stargazing
- Relationship Status
- My Story Is...
- My Appearance
Abigail is described as being a firecracker. Voluminous plume of untamed sable locks frame an aesthetically pleasing oval face, large almond-shaped spheres of glimmering emerald green, the sloping straight of her nose and full, naturally red lips. Her frame is lithe, willowy to the point of being unnaturally thin. And yet she’s still considerably healthy. Her skin is mostly blemish free; her high cheekbones smattered with a constellation of pale freckles, and the scars that litter her body are silvery and smooth. She stands at five feet four inches exactly.
Her wolf bloodlines go way back. Further back than even she knows. Her father was the one with the shapeshifting genes. He abandoned his post when she was still an infant, one that did not know any better. But she would learn the truths. When she transforms, her body undergoes trauma that most would not withstand. Her bones break, reshape and regrow in a matter of seconds, and from her skin would burst a thick russet brown pelt. In this form she stands much larger than your average wolf. Her blood lineage consists of the hybrid genes of two canines species, Dingoes and the great Direwolves of old.
- I Believe...
In magic (occasionally)