[justify][center][img=28655]mheader[/img]
[color=pink][small][url=http://mylittledeathknight.tumblr.com/]Askblog[/url][/small][/color] [color=white][small]-[/small][/color] [color=pink][small][url=http://www.hentai-foundry.com/user/Miama/profile]HentaiFoundry[/url][/small][/color] [color=white][small]-[/small][/color] [color=pink][small][url=http://www.furaffinity.net/user/miama]Furaffinity[/url][/small][/color]
[color=white][small]IC Intros: ✓ - OOC Intros: ✓ - Notes: ✓ - Bookmarks: ✓ - Random Friend Requests: ✗
Header art done for me by Boopeep[/small][/color] [color=pink][small][url=http://www.furaffinity.net/view/16856469/]❤[/url][/small][/color]
[/center]
[hr]
[center][img=26987]mstats[/img][/center][center]
[b][color=pink][small]Birth Name:[/small][/color][/b] [color=white][small]Maria Chastity Elwood[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink][small]Age:[/small][/color][/b] [color=white][small]19 (at death), early 30's (chronologically)[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink][small]Race:[/small][/color][/b] [color=white][small]Human(?)[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink][small]Status:[/small][/color][/b] [color=white][small]Undead[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink][small]Residence:[/small][/color][/b] [color=white][small]Acherus, the Ebon Hold[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink][small]Affiliation:[/small][/color][/b] [color=white][small]The Horde, The Ebon Blade[/small][/color]
[/center]

[center][img=26988]mappearance[/img][/center]
[center][b][color=pink]M[/color][/b][color=white][small]iama is, at a glance, a short, plump woman with unnaturally pale skin and tumbling purple curls held in pigtails that fall to her waist. Her wide, round eyes glow a piercing blue, a glow that seems to burn ever brighter with each gap-toothed grin of enthusiasm only to smoulder away with the girl's boredom. Pouty lips glisten pink with an ever-present sheen of gloss, her tongue ever so often snaking out to lap at the fruity flavour of it. Her every step sends her plush body bouncing and wiggling, with hips rolling side to side and meaty thighs grinding against one another no matter how long her stride. A cruel reminder of her undeath, metallic stitches bite into her skin around each limb, another length of them coiling around her throat and surging up her cheek towards her left eye socket. Freckles scatter across her cheeks and bosom, a curious mauve in undeath. A whiff of vanilla clings to her, perfume lightly applied at her wrists and behind each ear.[/small][/color][/center]

[center][img=26989]msd[/img][/center]
[center][b][color=pink]N[/color][/b][color=white][small]aked, Miama's breasts are full and ample, sagging a little with natural weight. Both creamy tits bear a splash of deep pink for each nipple, puffy slits hiding the shy and sensitive nubs.[/small][/color]

[color=pink][small](Female:)[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink]F[/color][/b][color=white][small]urther yet down her nude figure lies the treasure between her legs, pale outer lips barely parted to offer a glimpse at the more colourful pink folds within. A tuft of purple hair remains on her mound despite being shaved smooth elsewhere, trimmed into the shape of a loveheart.[/small][/color]

[color=pink][small](Futa:)[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink]B[/color][/b][color=white][small]etween the girl's legs sits a small, chubby prick, a cherry-pink cockhead peeking out from a foreskin as deathly pale as the rest of her. Her smoothly-shaved balls are also dainty enough to be cupped in the palm of one's hand. Though it's difficult if not impossible to get her hard, she can cum a thin, watery trickle of seed.[/small][/color][/center]

[center][img=26990]mpersonality[/img][/center][center]
[b][color=pink]D[/color][/b][color=white][small]im, ditzy, and with an infamously short attention span, Miama is nothing if not uncharacteristically chirpy for a death knight. Often seen as having a few screws loose, she finds comfort in childlike innocence and naivete. While she can come over as demanding or even bossy at times, she does (un)live to please! She'll do near anything to gain the approval of those she deems "nice", while those who are unkind to her will be met with pouting at best and physical confrontation at worst. After sufficiently bonding with someone she has a tendency to trail along after them like a lost puppy at the first sign of interest.[/small][/color][/center]

[center][img=26991]mtrivia[/img][/center][center]
[b][color=pink]~[/color][/b] [color=white][small]Her favourite colour is pink.[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink]~[/color][/b] [color=white][small]She has an insatiable sweet tooth, and is often found sucking on lollipops or hard candies.[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink]~[/color][/b] [color=white][small]She is borderline illiterate, able to read and write little more than her own name. When she does write, she dots her i's with hearts.[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink]~[/color][/b] [color=white][small]She's fluent in both Common and Gutterspeak, and proficient enough at Orcish to carry a conversation. More recently she has picked up a few phrases in Zandali.[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink]~[/color][/b] [color=white][small]She owns a deathcharger named Spite, who she treats much more like a living horse than an undead one. Though the undead stallion's name is carved crudely into his saronite helmet, she most refers to the steed as "Horsie".[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink]~[/color][/b] [color=white][small]She is adept at sewing, a skill she learned in life and continue practising out of necessity in undeath.[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink]~[/color][/b] [color=white][small]She is incredibly ticklish, especially around her belly, her inner thighs, and the soles of her feet.[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink]~[/color][/b] [color=white][small]She loves animals, and will adamantly refuse to eat meat.[/small][/color]
[/center]

[center][img=26992]mbackstory[/img][/center]
[center][b][color=pink]B[/color][/b][color=white][small]orn near thirty years ago to a single mother by the name of Ciera Elwood when Lordaeron was still a shining jewel of the human lands and the Menethil line was renowned for their fair leadership, Maria's early childhood in the slums of the inner city was somewhat unremarkable. As soon as she could walk she would help her mother at the tavern where she worked as a barmaid, the young girl serving food and drinks to the rowdy drunkards during the evening rush. She never knew her father, but her mother would frequently tell her stories of the brave and noble paladin who swept her off her feet, vowing to return one day to whisk the pair of them away to a life of luxury.[/small][/color]

[b][color=pink]T[/color][/b][color=white][small]he years flew by, and that day never came. By the age of seventeen Maria had earned herself an apprenticeship to a local seamstress, her mother willing to go
without the extra money she brought in in order to secure a more promising future for her daughter. By day she'd practise her sewing, and on
all but the busiest of nights she'd retreat to their upstairs bedroom and rest as her mother serviced their customers; occasionally in more ways than one.
Poverty was a cruel thing, and though she'd never let the girl know it, many of the sweets and pastries that Ciera so adored to spoil her daughter with were bought with silver slipped to her in the back rooms of the tavern, away from prying eyes. All she wanted was to protect her daughter from the same fate, and so she grew up naive and sheltered, taught to be wary of the drunken old men who leered after her blooming body but never quite knowing why.[/small][/color]

[b][color=pink]T[/color][/b][color=white][small]he Scourge came not long after her nineteenth birthday. Panic spread quickly throughout the inner city; An invasion of the living dead? Many were sceptical to believe it until they saw with their own eyes the corpses coming lumbering through the streets. Though dozens attempted to flee the city, Ciera holed up in the tavern's underground cellar. Maria, afraid to leave without her mother, stayed with her, along with several terrified neighbours. They couldn't leave. Their entire lives were contained within that building. They should have been safe; Every door and window was double-locked and barricaded shut, a rug pulled over the cellar's entrance to hide it.[/small][/color]

[b][color=pink]T[/color][/b][color=white][small]hey were safe, at least for a few hours. What they didn't count on was the brute strength of an abomination, or a pack of ghouls' keen sense of smell. Wood groaned and snapped like a toothpick under the Scourge's siege, and within seconds the huddled group of survivors were swarmed. Bone-chilling screams filled the air as the walls turned red with gore. Blood. So much blood. A ghoul tackled Maria to the ground as her mother and neighbours fought in vain to beat them off, a scythe-like claw slashing open her face. More and more of the vile zombies swarmed her bloodied, pinned body, lunging and clawing at her. As the world turned black, all she could hear were terrified howls and the sickening [b]crunch[/b] of her arm being bent to the breaking point.[/small][/color]

[b][color=pink]E[/color][/b][color=white][small]verything was cold when she awoke. She didn't know how much time had passed, but the tattered remains of her nightgown still clung to her body, her bare toes curling into dead, decaying grass underfoot. Her hands; That was when she noticed her hands. She'd always been a pasty girl, but now it was as if all the blood had been sucked from her body. The metallic sutures biting in around each arm confirmed her fears.[/small][/color]

[b][color=pink]T[/color][/b][color=white][small]he Forsaken girl sank to her knees in the gloomy Tirisfal Glades and bawled until no more tears sprung up in the corners of her glowing amber eyes.[/small][/color]

[b][color=pink]S[/color][/b][color=white][small]he never really did adjust to undeath, even after joining Sylvanas Windrunner and the rest of the Scourge's liberated forces. She adopted a new name; [i]Miama[/i], a corruption of her name in life. Though seeing her home city in ruins was upsetting, even more frightening was the idea of her new faction aligning themselves with the Horde. Orcs were violent, brutish creatures and their allies weren't much better; that was all that she needed to know to avoid setting foot in Orgrimmar for a while.[/small][/color]

[b][color=pink]I[/color][/b][color=white][small]t was in the Western Plaguelands where she met her second death, an abomination's hook punching through her throat and near-cleanly severing her head. This time she found herself not only a force of the Scourge, but a death knight of Acherus. Her eyes glowed a piercing, icy blue as she and her brothers and sisters in death carried out the Lich King's will against the Scarlet Crusade with sadistic precision, the once gentle and harmless city girl moulded into a weapon of destruction. She wielded unholy strength and mowed down her enemies without so much as a blink, freezing them where they stood before shattering their dessicated bodies like statues on the battlefield. A natural with frost magic, she honed her abilities until, with her runeblade by her side, she could draw moisture from the air and shoot projectile needles of ice at her foes, dancing out of reach around them faster than any would reasonably think her short, thick legs could carry her. [/small][/color]

[b][color=pink]L[/color][/b][color=white][small]ike most of the Knights of the Ebon Blade, she regained her freedom at Light's Hope Chapel. The fog of Arthas's control lifted from her eyes, she followed Darion Mograine to liberation, a founding member of the death knights' new order.[/small][/color]

[b][color=pink]S[/color][/b][color=white][small]till, she longed for the company of living people. She couldn't turn to the Alliance; They'd already tossed her aside when they rejected the Forsaken from their lands. The Horde, along with her Dark Lady, were left the only option.[/small][/color]

[b][color=pink]T[/color][/b][color=white][small]hese days, though she spends most of her nights in the barracks of Acherus, Miama spends her time travelling the lands of the living and attempting to endear herself towards them regardless of faction. There are few people she'll hate on sight besides Scourge sympathisers, necromancers, and anyone else who'd wish to spread the curse of undeath to more innocent people. This also means that she's distanced herself from the forsaken, and by extension the Horde, since the great Cataclysm.
[/small][/color][/center]

[center][img=26993]mooc[/img][/center][center]
[b][color=pink]~[/color][/b] [color=white][small]Please do have something in mind when you're PMing me for an RP. It's like pulling teeth when someone says they want to play with Miama but don't have any actual ideas. Let's avoid that![/small][/color]
[b][color=pink]~[/color][/b] [color=white][small]I do welcome IC intros, but only if they're posts with some substance! A paragraph describing the scenery and giving me an idea of how you expect me to respond is good. Approaching with *smiles and smacks ass* is not.[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink]~[/color][/b] [color=white][small]It's not the end of the world if you do it, but I really prefer people not opening a conversation with me with the standard "Hi, how are you?" small talk affair. This isn't a matter of me not wanting to be friendly, it's me wanting to get to the point and not particularly wanting to chit-chat about my personal life with horny strangers. Get it?[/small][/color]
[b][color=pink]~[/color][/b] [color=white][small]My post length is variable, but the rule of thumb is that I won't go under small paragraphs for anything but messing around in public channels. I find that emotes in the 1-3 sentences range lack the detail to keep me interested in RP, sorry![/small][/color]
[b][color=pink]~[/color][/b] [color=white][small]All of the art on this profile was drawn specifically for me, either as a commission, a request, or a gift, so please don't take it without permission! If you know of anyone using my art I'd greatly appreciate having their profile linked to me so I can ask them to take it down.[/small][/color]
[/center]
[/justify]