Burlesque Dancer
Neutral
Heterosexual
Sexuality
Single
Relationship Status
22 years old
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Ella
Offline
GMT-6
Tag me @daniella
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Post by Daniella Maria Santos on Oct 16, 2015 10:24:17 GMT -6
The history between Daniella Santos and Rafael Thomas was… complicated to say the least. She had found him, broken and almost bleeding, had been led to him by some of the few werewolves that she had helped in the community who had stuck around, helping her to run her little underground healing ring. Not that she asked for money, those who wanted to repay her for her services… she either kept them around in certain alleyways where she knew a ring had to be operating or were particularly dangerous for people like her to be walking. Not that she needed security, not really… when it came right down to it, she could defend herself, when she had enough of a warning. However, what had happened tonight… she had been caught completely off guard by it, and a part of her knew with every fiber of her being that she was just lucky the owner of the bar had come when he did, or what might have happened next… well she didn't like to think about it. At all. But Rafael was different. She had been interested in assisting many wolves in the past, she had taken a certain… liking to him. There was something about the broken way that he looked at her, the way that he couldn't seem to understand emotions and feelings and love the way that others, even werewolves, could that intrigued her. But he was more than just an intrigue to her, he was a lost soul who needed her help, her guidance… he needed her in a lot more ways than she needed him, though to say that she couldn't benefit from his presence… well that would be a lie. For whatever the reason, she had taken him into her home, nursed him back to health… and let him stay. She would never forget the first time he spoke to her, asking a question that she never thought she would hear, and that she sincerely hoped she would never hear again. "How much did you pay for me?" That question was enough for her to want to cry. How much cruelty had this poor man been through? What horrors had he endured in those rings, fighting for his life? But over time, he had opened up to her, trusting her, caring about her… and the feelings had been returned. There had been certain… encounters that honestly felt strange to her now that they were so close in an almost sibling capacity. His middle name, Herman, had even been derived from "hermano", the Spanish name for "brother", and since that was her Native language… it made sense. They might have even shared a last name if she hadn't been worried about the implications of it… particularly with her being considered an immigrant, even if she was a second generation one. All those thoughts ran through her mind as she looked at him now, knowing full well that he was likely to catch her in the lie that she had just told him. No, if she was being honest, she wasn't "alright". She was sore as hell from being pinned against a wall, and she was on edge from the entire incident, but that wasn't something that she could exactly tell Rafe right now. "I'm fine." Daniella couldn't help but arch her eyebrow; Rafael had always played off his pain, preferring to focus on other people instead of himself, and it was that trait that consistently left her in a kind of awe. He was selfless… and in a lot of ways, self-depreciating. Still, she would let it go for the time being, and would just make him something later to take away a good portion of the pain, as she always did. And then.. He got sharp with her, and she felt herself flinch back slightly, rubbing one wrist with the opposite hand, where the pain she hadn't realized she had been feeling had begun to bloom once more. "Rafe…" She looked up at him, and she saw the fire in those blue eyes, one that she recognized easily, and she knew she wouldn't be able to persuade him into believing that she was fine. "I am fine, really. There was a John at the club who got a little handsy, the owner took care of it, and him. It's... Nothing you need to worry about." She turned her eyes up to look at the werewolf who was probably looking at her with a mixture of incredulity and a slight bit of anger that someone had dared touch her. "Please, Rafy... it looks a lot worse than it is."
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Burlesque Dancer
Neutral
Heterosexual
Sexuality
Single
Relationship Status
22 years old
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Ella
Offline
GMT-6
Tag me @daniella
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Post by Daniella Maria Santos on Nov 26, 2014 23:56:36 GMT -6
Shit. Dani was more than just running late, she was horrendously late. Normally, when she was dancing, she was home and in the door by three in the morning, but it was already going on four fifteen, and she still hadn’t walked through the door. It wasn’t her fault, really, it was the fault of the man who had stopped her on her way out the door and tried for a… little more than she was ready or willing to give much of anybody at this point in her life. Of course, he hadn’t been happy about it, and had even gone so far to pin her wrists on either side of her head, and probably would have succeeded in his… endeavors, had one club owner not come up and knocked him flat with one punch, spitting on his unconscious body and ushering her back inside, mostly to make sure that she was alright and to give her a drink to help settle her nerves a bit. A drink that she had taken, but only pretended to sip it, keeping her lips tightly pressed against the rim of the glass on the off chance that yet another man whose eye she had caught was going to try something.
As it were, it didn’t appear that was the case, though Daniella did find herself walking home alone at just after four in the morning instead of accompanied by someone. Truthfully she preferred it that way, she could take care of herself, despite the moment of weakness and general submission in the face of danger almost an hour ago, and walking alone gave her time to just… be herself. To think. To decompress. Despite the youthful look of the 22 year old that was currently heading towards her home in the lower east side, all the way from midtown west, with her shoulders hunched up slightly towards her ears and a determined look on her face, she put herself through a fair amount of stress, and not just because of the profession she had chosen so long ago. The stage had its own stressors, sure, but it didn’t cause anywhere near as much stress as her other job. The one she did by night. The one that her mother had taught her so many years ago. The one that she didn’t tell anybody about out of fear for her clients, and to some extent, her fear for herself.
Rafael, the man she knew was waiting for her in her home, probably wearing a track in the floor as he paced, was one of her former clients, but having nowhere else to go when she was done with him, well, she had kind of “taken him in” so to speak. She didn’t do that to every werewolf that ended up on her doorstep, she couldn’t let herself: she had neither the rooms, nor the funds, nor the security to put all of them up, but she had done a decent job at finding people across the bay to take them in until they were healed up and had found a niche of their own in the city. It wasn’t a rehabilitation program, though it sounded like one sometimes, she was saving them… though from what, most people didn’t know. She didn’t trust them to. Daniella had charged herself with saving werewolves from the fighting pits. It was a noble job, in her mind, and one that she knew she wanted to do, and was good at, but there was the small fact that she just wasn’t good enough sometimes. There were times when she had to admit she wasn’t perfect. Hell, maybe she wasn’t even good, but she was doing everything she could to help every single person who ended up on her doorstep.
Speaking of her doorstep… Danielle turned her key in the lock and pushed the door open, watching at Rafe’s eyes turned at her, and smiling in the most apologetic smile that she could, shutting the door tight behind her and turning to look at the man she had grown to see as an older brother. “Don’t worry, I’m fine, I just got a little held up at the club after work.” Pulling off her jacket, she hung it on the back of the chair and walked into her bedroom, pulling off her glitzy, clingy dress and changing into something a little more casual and comfortable. She would be up for a long time, just in case someone came along needing her help. Reaching behind her, she pulled her long hair up and secured it with a few pins to keep it off her face and walked back out into the living room where Rafe was still waiting for her, and sat down on the couch, relaxing back and sighing gently, patting the space next to her. “Come on, sit down, you’ve got to be hurting right now.” Looking up at him she smiled, pushing down her urge to get up and start taking care of him. “Really, I’m fine, promise.”
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