Name: Eleanor Josephine Banfield
Gender: Female
Age: Ninety Six years
Apparent Age: Twenty
Place of Birth: America
Species: Vampire.
Coven: Independant
Appearance:Portrait:Close Up:Eleanor has long brown hair. Bright and soft, it is gentle like warm chocolate. It is straight and remains so no matter how many times she tries to place curls within it, it never seems to actually do anything but lay straight down her back. It falls in it’s length down to her hips. Her eyes are a bright green. They have a small hazel ring around the center that she was given from her father’s side of the family. She is slight in figure. Her pale skin in natural and not just because of the change. She has always been pale and it will never change, in the sun, many years past, she would burn, and now that she never sees the sun she is paler than ever before. She is not a tall woman, rising about five foot five inches from toes to hair she is thin and weighing in at only one hundred and twelve pounds. She is quite built and her muscles move under her pale moonlit skin quite beautifully.
Personality:Eleanor is a very gentle woman. She was raised in a time where women were more quiet and gentle. Not as flamboyant as the ones of today. She does wear some of the more trendy styles at times but you’ll often think of her as more reserved than the others. Eleanor is often graceful and soft, her voice is a sample of this as well. She is kind and is one of the few vampires that has an actual conscience. She does not really care for the monster that she had become. Drinking, and killing to survive. But survival instinct does kick in and hunger takes over as the basest of all instincts. It takes over everything else and many times she finds herself coming back to her right mind with a pale dead corpse at her feet and guilt raging inside for the innocent life that she took.
Thus is the reason that Eleanor is very kind to the humans that are around her. She is sweet and often buys them things so that she can see just how happy they are with the monetary things in life. Over her ninety six years she has been able to work and gain money allowing her to have a surplus. She deals with her guilt by being charitable when she can and living her life to the fullest. Even in the dead of night she lives quite well. She doesn’t party or drink much. She is set in her old ways in many things. She of course looks for love, what woman doesn’t and after being alive and walking the earth for ninety six years she feels that she does now know what love is. But has yet to find it.
Hobbies:Reading: Her most avid hobby is her love to read. Adoring the classics that were considered new in her own time, she adores romance. Not the kind of novels you can buy for a nickel or a dime, but instead the kind that are full novels. A little romance thrown in but nothing too risqué. She has a vast collection of books, loving to pour through the pages of her favorite books during the times she is stuck within her home.
Music: Music is something that she adores and spends a great deal of time doing. She is not well versed in every instrument, instead only two she has chosen to really work hard with. The violin and the piano. Oft times she will be playing and enjoying the music that she can play.
Dancing: Not in the modern sense of dance but in the kind of dancing that was done when she was alive. When she was young and her heart still beat within her chest. She loves the old dances the ones that were invented during the times when touching was limited between a man and a woman until wedlock and dancing was the way to know of that special connection or not.
History: In 1891, in the small town of Corpus Christi, Texas the loving parents of Eleanor gave birth to their smiling blonde daughter. They dubbed her Eleanor Josephine and she was born to Grace and Phillip Banfield. They were not well to do, middle class at best. Her father was shop keeper, selling general merchandise to those around them. Anything from cloth for clothing, ready made clothing, and the necessities of life. Her mother stayed home to raise Eleanor and her two older brothers Thomas and Mathew. They lived in a small blue house with a rock fence that surrounded the small modest yard that was well cared for and the garden by the windows was well manicured. Her life was nothing but ordinary for a young girl in this time.
A tutor came to the house daily to teach her and her brothers. Oddly enough she learned to read and write luckily with brothers in the house learning it she was able to as well. She was well educated when she came up on fifteen years of age and was placed available for courtship. While she was lovely there were women in the court that were far more fair than she and she was not taken immediately. But it wasn’t long, and upon her sixteenth birthday one of the men that frequented her father’s shop had seen her there helping a little bit on a busy day. He had come calling not too many days later and had soon consumed much of Eleanor’s time. His name was Clifford Brenard. He seemed to be completely enthralled with the young blonde. She was well read, well educated, and still had all the requirements that one looked for in a lady. While the time of Kings and the courts of England had passed, it was still around in mentality. Wanting a woman that would birth children and run the home well. They courted for six months, before he took his knee before her and slid a ring upon her finger. Asking her to be his wife.
They were married in a beautiful church in the small city that no longer stands today. The white steeple shot high into the sky and the copper bell would chime during the best occasions and on Sundays for service. It was a small service and Eleanor wore her mother’s wedding dress that was given to the family of her now husband as part of her dowry. They moved then, and lived in a small home on a small plot of land. Her husband worked printing books and newspapers at the local print shop, and worked well allowing them to have quite a nice life. Eleanor settled happily into her life. She was pregnant with her first child within months and she could not be happier. She loved her life, and her husband who treated her kindly and she could ask for nothing better. At eighteen she gave birth to her first child, a son, named Atticus. Their lives could not be happier. Everything seemed to be wonderful and happy. Her husband had a wonderful job, she was able to be home and each Atticus many things before another year later her twins were born. It was a hard birth, weighing heavily on the small framed girl. Twins were not easy births, even today they can boast challenge but back then it was nigh impossible.
But thanks to a good working midwife, someone that really new her way around a woman’s body. The twins were birthed and all three lived. They were named Elizabeth Jane and Charles. With three children, Eleanor found herself more busy than ever before. Keeping up with her household and carrying for her children she was happy but oft times tired and growing weary. But she would not complain and persevered. It was only a year later that everything changed. Her son, Atticus was sick. She was in need of a doctor and her husband had fallen asleep on the chair on she feared to wake him because he worked such long days. And so she had put her shawl over her shoulders against the cold and stepped out into the cold December night. She scurried through the dark city that was for the most part deserted on her way to retrieve Doctor Marcus from the local office he kept not seven streets from her small home.
However, sadly, for her family and for her she would never make it to Doctor Marcus. On the way she was violently pulled into an alley between the bakers where she bought her bread every morning and her father’s store. Pressed against the stone wall of the bakers she saw her attacker. Her green eyes were wide as he smiled and looked over the tiny but beautiful and still beautiful young girl. Even children had not taken away her young figure. “Forever a child of the night you shall be my dear.” he whispered in her ear before his fangs sunk into her throat. She gasped as her eyes grew wide and the pain racked her body. She could fell the life blood being drained from her as tears cascaded from her green eyes as she stared up at the full moon of the night. Her last thoughts were of her sons and her daughter. “Cliff.” she whispered before she began to see the black spots in her vision.
“Drink, daughter of the night.” she heard whispered to her as the smell of blood invaded her senses. She gasped her mouth opened softly she was thirsty, dying of thirst she needed something to drink and as the fluid hit her tongue she moaned softly and began to drink the blood of the man that had turned her. He was kindly for the time, during her transformation as he watched her drink his blood while he stroked her hair softly. It was hours later that everything was done, and she woke up her eyes opening but strangely sore as she did so. “Welcome.” said the voice that was ringing in her mind from the last encounter. Had she a heart it would have jumped at the site of the beautiful man that sat perched on the edge of her bed. “My name is Wagner von Ramsden. And you my sweet are mine. What is your name?” he asked as he looked down at her. “Eleanor.” she whispered softy still a bit weak. “welcome Eleanor, daughter of eternal night.”
As for many vampires, the rest of her life seemed to fly by in a way. Days that seemed so long to humans were nothing to one such as herself. She stood by Wagner’s side, he wanted her to stay close, for some reason enjoying the quiet gentle woman that he had turned that night in the alleyway. World War one plagued the country as well and she watched men go off and fight for their country against weapons that they could not fight well against. Yet still, war plagued the world. The great Depression hit the United States and the world around them plummeted into despair. Wagner kept his eye on the Lady Eleanor as he liked to call her and kept her close. She didn’t feel the depression as others might, she was well cared for and from time to time she was brought fresh humans that wanted nothing more than to save their family’s and she was fed upon them. It was a hard time to watch. Knowing that she could do nothing to help and also knowing that she could not do anything at all. She was well cared for. She lacked for nothing. Always given beautiful dresses and cared for like no other you would think that Lady Eleanor was not a companion but a wife. Perhaps he was trying to make it easy on the young miss. Afterall in her mind, to help her transition, she had told everyone her husband and children had been dead. For to her they had to be, she could no longer be in their lives and if she was too hungry and accidentally took one of their lives she knew that she would never forgive herself.
The Depression began to lessen around the time that Roosevelt was in the White House and all seemed like it would be well once more. But the Dust Bowl hit soon after and she worried for the family she no longer had wondering if they were safe. She begged Wagner to let her out, to let her go off and help her children and her husband but he refused knowing that if they lived it would not be what she remembered and they would likely remember her exactly as she was now even though years had passed and the beautiful Eleanor had not aged one bit. And as the end of the Dustbowl began to come the second world war started. She read the papers and heard the rumors and hoped her sons would not be within the war but she could not know. It was then that Wagner decided to move them. His Lady Eleanor was much too fragile to stay in Texas, she was too sentimental and he knew she would never relinquish her hold on her old life if she could not start over again, a grave mistake on his part of earlier for trying to give her an easier transition. They packed up, their belongings were sent ahead, and he and Eleanor traveled by night to the north. As fast as a vampire could move it took little time and she enjoyed the travel. For many years she had been stuck within that large home. Everything she ever wanted of course was given to her but she had begun to go stir crazy. Traveling was something she enjoyed. While many were off at war in the distant countries she and her master moved up north and settled then in a small rural town in Washington. Eleanor would live for some time in the forested home of Wagner in the Washington state. She liked it there, allowed to roam the forest at night she could catch campers and esanguinate them allowing her to feed and not get caught, she liked to stay away from civilization and the people she was with, they had picked up other vampires in their travels from time to time. She had not found love, though she was unsure of what to think of Wagner the man that showered her with gifts and affection. Since her husband she had never lain with a man.
Many wars came and went, and Eleanor was one of the many that mourned Kennedy’s death taking place in her own home state. She watched men go off and fight and die for her country the only consolation was that her sons were long gone, but any children they might have had might be there. And she prayed, even now, for them to be safe. It was the September, 11th attacks on the World Trade Center when Wagner came into her set of rooms with a flourish. He told her that they were leaving. No longer could they stay in such a wretched country that was hell bent on it’s own destruction. She was shocked. She stood up her long skirts pooling on the floor, because even now she likes to wear the older fashions if she can. Wagner seems to like it over the distasteful clothes of the modern era calling her a true lady. So, once again they packed up their things and began to travel but slowly this time. He had heard rumors of a place where vampires could live and live in peace without having to hide as much as they did now. She followed, her long years spent with Wagner as a constant friend had allowed her to grow to respect the man, he had been alive longer than she and she enjoyed that she had someone to spend her days with.
It was some time, a few years later, they found what they were looking for. Demaitre. Wagner bought them a place to live with his vast fortune that he shared with the woman that he had turned to be his companion in all things, though she still had not given up on the last bits of her life. She had not slept with, kissed, or lain with the man that was her master. But they were friends of the very best sort if not more though she would not admit it being old fashioned and he, well he was of a different breed and she was unsure what he was all about even now. They bought their home and unpacked their belongings hoping to settle here for good.
