alessandra de'angela salviati

[Alessandra De'angela Salviati]

N A M E '

alessandra de‘angela
salviati

A G E '

19

G E N D E R '

female

S H I F T I N G '

Alessandra shifts into a black Friesian horse. She barely ever turns into a horse because she‘s not sure what to do and its very awkward for her.

P E R S O N A '

Alessandra is a real bitch when she wants to be. She‘s opinionated, sassy, sarcastic and a real smart ass. Sometimes she'll want to hug you, other times, she wouldn't hesitate to hold a gun to your head. When she gets mad, watch out. She can be worse than a serial killer. When she chooses to be nice, she is as sweet as sugar. But her nice side is rarely brought out. Although, for the most part, she is rather easy to be around. About 50/50. Shes not exactly the most pleasant person in the world. But she isn't always on edge, either. She is very emotional, passionate and most of her emotions are theatrical and slightly exaggerated. She is a terrible flirt. Although, she only flirts when shes attracted to you. So just think about that before saying that she's "easy". Quite the contrary, actually. She's a tease but she won't let you touch her until you're about to kill over. She is said to have blood ties to some of the most infamous mafia bosses of all time. Because of that, she has a certain fierceness to her. She used to have a heroin addiction. She went to rehab a while back and now shes an alcoholic. She loves her Jack Daniels. And an occasional glass of wine never hurts, either. But sometimes, those urges to put that needle in her arm eats away at her. Music is a strong point with her, as well. She is a good guitarist but there's not much else she's good at. Singing? Forget it. Drums, violin, cello. You name it, she can learn to "unplay" it. She is only really good with a guitar. As a hardcore fan of underground music, she is very passionate about her music. That's made her passionate about everything else. She hates censorship of any kind. She feels that it is like a snake that constricts the art and ruins it. She has gotten in trouble with the police many times. So she wears a "Fuck the police" accessory every time she goes out. She can't get arrested for that, now can she? She hates almost every kind of mainstream, pop music. And yes, she also hates emos. Look them up. Sometimes, she doesn't know when she's talking in Italian and when she's talking in English, seeing as she's from Italy. She has a very strong Italian accent. But one might call it beautiful. Which it is. All Italian accents are, usually. One of her flaws is her extremely brash attitude. Its usually "leap before you look how far you're falling". Thats probably why she gets in trouble so often. And she also tends to beat people up just because of her bad moods.

S K I N . D E E P '

In her human form, Alessandra is quite beautiful. Her body is rather slender with a lovely, feminine muscle tone to her arms. She has a lip piercing and a tattoo of a heart gram on her shoulder blade. She has long brunette hair that reaches to the middle of her back.

In her equine form, she is a pitch black Friesian horse. Her mane and tail are very long, thick and luxurious. Her eyes are the same as they are in human form, which is a light hazel. As with friesian horses, her hooves are feathered and as said before, her mane and tail are very thick and coarse.

A . S M A L L . T A S T E '

The young lady moved through the bright yet boring hallways of the school, her sneakers landing quietly against the ivory tile floor. She was walking rather slowly, murmuring a heavy metal song under her steady breaths. Brunette hair was tied up into a high pony-tail and stray pieces of hair hung freely in her lovely face. Her lips were painted with a light coating of vermilion lipstick. She wore an ivory shirt that revealed the slightest bit of cleavage. And then jeans that hugged every curve her body formed. The aroma of flower-scented shampoo was emitted from her body. She wore medium sized pentagram earrings and a skull necklace. She looked a bit more presentable today because she didn't plan on going for a ride. So she'd wear her nice clothes today. Her hips moved slightly as she walked, just a natural thing that she did. Most women's hips moved when they walked. It was a natural thing, right? Fingers ran through her long auburn locks as she removed the rubber-band from around the mass of silken hair it was holding. Instantly, the flexible hair fell down around her shoulders and cascaded down her back like a waterfall. There was a few other students lining both sides of the hallway, each one on a different year here at the academy. As she sauntered along, she felt a slightly ominous 'raincloud' loom above her. Cerulean hued eyes wandered up from the screen of her iPod to notice a girl standing to her left, a sneer on her face. Hey! Alessandra! Come here, the other girl said. Alessandra could sense the bitchiness in her voice. She tilted her head to the side and rolled her eyes glimmering with attitude. "Wonder what this puttana(whore) wants... she murmured quietly to herself. She moved up to the slightly shorter girl, crossing her arms over her chest. "What can I do for you?" she spoke very clearly and in a commanding tone. The girl, who was about 3 inches shorter than Alessandra sneered and began to speak. I saw you riding your horse the other day. I think the horse did better than you did. Which is saying a lot, seeing as he doesn't look very well trained, the bitch said sarcastically. Alessandra's face contorted into a livid expression and her hands clenched into a fight fist. With an almost lioness-like snarl, she pulled her fist back and landed a heavy punch in the female's face. The back of her head bounced off the wall like a basketball. "Vaffanculo, brutta(fuck you, bitch)! You wanted a fucking fight? You got one," she hissed in wicked tones that could send chills down one's spine.


The other girl pushed Aless backwards but she caught herself. She charged for the girl again and grabbed her long hair then bashed her delicate face into the wall two or three times until her nose and lips bled. Where's those brass knuckles when I need them she thought absently as she pushed the girl to the ground and sat aggressively on top of her to get a few more good hits in at her hideous face. "So, I'm not a good rider and Trivium is not a good horse. Well, where did you learn to ride, puttana? It was my understanding that the only thing you were experienced in riding is your cousin's dick, eh?" she chuckled. After that little statement, the fist of the bloodied female came up and struck her. But the strike was so weak, it barely did anything. Alessandra shook her head a little, shaking off that nagging pain eating away at her jawline. Okay, okay, okay. Please...stop, the girl pleaded. At the moment, sympathy was not something she felt like giving. A strong male voice came ringing from behind her. MS. GRIMALDI! She knew it was that idiot headmaster. She liked to call him Mr. Cockburn. His last name escaped her. She didn't even bother turning around to see him. She lifted her fist once more and gave the little whore one last heavy punch to the jaw, a tooth getting lodged in the skin stretched over the Italian's knuckles. One more commanding call from "Mr. Cockburn". Ms. Grimaldi! My office, now, he demanded, stomping off to his office like a pouting toddler. "Lucky bitch. Good thing that bastard came and saved your ass or else I would have killed you" she murmured, lifting herself from the ground. Of course, she wasn't going to kill someone. That was just for intimidation. Shouldn't have worn white, she thought to herself as she lowered her gave to her blood stained ivory shirt. Blood was smeared all over the tile floor. She sneered at the girl writhing in pain. With one last kick to her mid-section she, hurried off after the headmaster, anticipating a lecture on why she "couldn't act like an untamed beast". The headmaster's face was slightly wrinkled. His gray hair was slicked back in a dorky fashion. He always wore cheap suits and cologne that his mother bought him. Asshole.


The headmaster was, by now, sitting at his desk, his chin sitting on his hands. Close the door, Ms. Grimaldi, he commanded. She nodded and actually slammed the door shut, knocking a few of his cheap dollar store pictures off of the ugly peach hued walls. Pick up the pictures, dear, he said firmly. "Piss off" she stated sharply. Watch your language Or else I will be forced to --, he was cut off as she tilted her head and sat on the chair in front of his deck, knocking his important papers off onto the dirty carpet floor. "Or what? You're going to ban me to my room? You're not my mom. You're going to bitchslap me? Uh-huh. See what happens if you do that. You'll end up like the bitch in the hallway, Cockburn" she yelled angrily, the desk being the only thing shielding the middle-aged man from any attacks she thought of making. He sighed, massaging his temples. Now, you need to stop this behavior. That poor girl has to go to the hospital now. You could at least go take her some flowers? Or a 'get well' card? he spoke to her softly, clearly trying to remain diplomatic. "Aw, flowers and a 'get well' card? Aw, how sweet. Sure, that can be arranged" she said sarcastically, rolling her cerulean eyes. Splendid! he said in genuine happiness. "Let me ask you something, though. What pussy would send flowers and a 'get well' card to someone they beat up, huh? Hell no! Take that idea and shove it up your ass. I'm not doing it,, she said, almost sadistically. The man's face lit up with anger. You are a horrible woman, Alessandra! HORRIBLE! You are an evil person! You have nothing better to do than beat people up! You need therapy! Al Capone would have adored you, Alessandra. That's nothing to be proud of, either, he screamed, veins bursting out from under his reddened skin. She merely laughed in a condescending manner. "And you have nothing better to do than to sit in a stuffy office all day, watching porn. I need therapy? I've tried that. It's bullshit" she yawned, nonchalantly picking a tooth out of her knuckles that was embedded under her skin. The man got out of his chair and stood in front of her. I'll be right back. I need a break from you, he hissed lowly and stormed out of the room. She quirked a brow and put her feet up on his desk, humming a random song. She heard his faint footsteps fade down the hallway, probably going outside for some fresh air. She had a feeling he'd be gone for a bit.