Esme Cullen

Full Name: Esme Anne Cullen
Nicknames: Mom
Age: 157
Gender: Female
Type: Vampire
Occupation: Homemaker

Appearance: Esme is the type of woman that a total stranger would have no qualms at all opening up to. Standing at 5 feet 6 inches, she's the sort of woman who at times appears as if a strong wind would bowl her over. Her face is heart-shaped and posesses dimples in her cheeks and her chin. Caramel colored hair falls in billowing curls to her shoulder blades, her eyes often being the same shade. She doesn't like to let herself get too hungry, hating the feeling of being ruled by her thirst.

Personality: Esme is a mother at heart, bearing a love for children and family that would shame even the most devoted of mothers. Outside her family, she has a passion for architecture and gardening, which she often acts on when they move. Many of the houses the family has lived in were designed by Esme herself, and furnished with antiques she's collected throughout the years. Carlisle often states that a vampire brings something of his human self with him when he is changed, and the same holds true for Esme. Her ability to love passionately was, if possible, intensified with her transofrmation, and this is shown through everything she does.

Despite all this, however, there is a fiercely protective side of her that can be combative if provoked enough. It would take a great deal to make her that angry, but with the right factors she can prove to be quite a skilled fighter. She's had enough with the Volturi interfering with their lives, and feels that if they threaten her family one more time she will snap. While she loves her children dearly, Carlisle is in many ways her reason for living, and she doesn't know what she'd do if she lost him. Any immediate threat to him would send her into a frenzy.

Special Abilities: None

Family And Relations:
Carlisle Cullen, Husband
Edward Cullen, Adoptive Son
Jasper Hale, Adoptive Son
Alice Cullen, Adoptive Daughter
Emmett Cullen, Adoptive Son
Rosalie Hale, Adoptive Daughter

History: Esme was born to John and May Platt in 1895, coming into the world on the first of March. Even as a little girl, she was warm and caring, looking out for everyone around her. This didn't mean, however, that she didn't like to get her hands dirty. She enjoyed playing in the gardens with her siblings and climbing trees, a habit that stuck with her even when she was an adult. It was this habit of climbing trees that brought her a glimpse of her destiny.

Even though her mother tried to drill it out of her with etiquitte and womanly skills, Esme spent most of the late afternoons in the large oak in their backyard, curled up with a book. It was one of these evenings, not long after her sixteenth birthday, when she misjudged the distance from her branch to the ground and leapt from the tree, subsequently breaking her leg. They were unable to take her into the city to have it treated, but, by chance, her parents remembered that the new man who moved to their town, Mr. Cullen, was indeed a physician.

They brought their daughter to him after sunset, and Esme was struck by the man's near to godlike beauty. His compassion for her and genuine concern for her wellbeing stuck with her as well, and it didn't take long for the young girl to fall for the handsome doctor. Unfortunately, fate had other plans for her. When she was well again, she was informed of her match with the lawyer's son, Charles Evenson. The man was handsome, yes, and wealthy enough for several people, but nothing could make her forget her Doctor Cullen.

Sadly, there was nothing she could do. The marraiage took place a year later, on the eve of her eighteenth birthday, and any dreams of living with the doctor had vanished. She did her duties as a wife, keeping their house in order and doing her best to provide children. It was her inability to do so that started the abuse. It was no secret that Charles was a drinker, and this fact didn't help poor Esme's case. He'd get drunk, take her to bed, get nowhere, then beat her, leaving the young girl bruised and terrified in her room.

As if by divine intervention, he was called to duty in the War not two years later, leaving her to fend for herself until he was sent home. The twenty-year-old took up a job teaching the local children, finding her true calling. She'd always loved children, and was quite disppointed when it was beginning to seem she was infertile. Perhaps that fall four years ago did more damage than she realized? Whatever the case, she didn't have to worry about it now.

In fact, five years passed before she had to worry about it again. The war with Germany kept her husband away until the day of her twenty-fifth birthday, her reaction upon seeing him mixed. She was glad to see her husband home alive, but beyond frightened to see what the years of violence had done to his temper. It seemed to have whipped the alcoholism out of him, for her only drank in social situations. As for the issue of their lack of children, it wasn't brought up for months.

This time, the gods seemed to be on her side. She awoke one morning to find she was with child, but, unfortunately, this didn't stop the abuse. She'd finally had enough one night when she was certain the baby had been harmed froma blow to her cheek that sent her tumbling across the room. Not wanting her child to be raised in such an environment, Esme packed her few belongings and fled, running to the nearby town to hide from Charles. Thankfully, he didn't come looking for her, and she was able to ahve her baby in peace. But this peace was not to last.

She gave birth to a son two months before he was due, a fact that frightened the young mother. Her fears were confirmed three days later when she awoke to find her precious baby boy had died in his sleep. Heartbroken and feeling she had nothing left, the next night she flung herself from the cliffs outside of town, finding the excruciating welcomed as opposed to a burden. Assumed dead when she was found, Esme was taken straight to the mourge as opposed to the hospital. It was there that Carlisle Cullen found her.

Recognizing the broken woman as the vibrant young girl he'd treated ten years ago, he came to examine her, astonished to find her heart still beating, however faintly, even after what she'd been through. Unwilling to let her die, he changed her, staying by her side through the entire three days. When Esme awoke, she thought she'd passed and gone to heaven, particularly when she saw her beloved doctor beside her. She remained with him and his "son," Edward, the two falling for each other and marrying soon afterward. Though their family has grown, much to her delight, she still mourns the fact that she could never bear her own children, greiving the loss of her baby boy.

RP Sample: Her grief consumed her, and with each step Esme could feel a new break in her heart, a new piece shattering. Her baby, the only salvation she could find in the mess that was her life, had been taken from her not three days after he'd been born. She couldn't bear it. Seven years of waiting, seven years hoping and praying for a child, only to have it snatched away from her before she even had a chance to start a life with him. Although, she supposed that this was best. Better to have never reall had him at all than to build something only to have him taken from her so soon. Her poor little Joshua Alexander...

All too soon she'd reached her destination. Looking out over the waters below, she felt suddenly frightened. Did she really want to go through with this? The throbbing of what was left of her heart said yes. Better death than face the loneliness of a child's grave and the fear of being found by Charles. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. That thought, that fear giving her courage, she took a few steps back, then ran forward, leaping from the cliff with a burst of energy such as she'd never felt before in her life.

It was oddly relaxing, this falling, the feel of the wind rushing past her. It was comforting to know that the end was near. The pain would soon be gone, replaced by a new, temporary one. Anything to distract her from the aching in her very soul. But, even Death, it seemed, had reason to avoid her. instead of her body breaking on the rocks as she wished, she fell into the icy black waters and was dragged into the river's undertow, thrown against the stones beneath the water's surface as she was dragged about.

Esme didn't fight, didn't try to break the surface as the current pulled her. She let herself be tossed like a rag doll, hoping it would all be over soon. As a new blackness bordered on her consciousness, she welcomed it greatly. This was warm, friendly, inviting, like a courdory armchair by the fire on a winter night. She sank into oblivion as her body washed ashore, a small smile tracing her lips.

The hours that followed were spent filtering in and out of consciousness. She was vaguely aware of voices around her, male ones. She cringed away, not wanting to be found, to be brought back. Go! she screamed, although she couldn't find her voice. Leave me be! Leave me here to die! It is what I want! But she could not find the strength even to pull herself out of this darkness. So she sank back into it, fading out again.

When next she came around, she was aware of something firm beneath her, not the sandy riverbank. Esme wondered where she was, why she was there, but again couldn't find it in herself to come around. It was quiet here, at least. Almost too quiet. It frightened and comforted her all at once. At least, she had found peace. Drifting, she bordered on unconsciousness until a new sound came to her. Footsteps. Male, but somehow lighter than what she was used to. It almost reminded her of Charles. They grew closer, closer, until soon they stopped.

She was aware of a presence next to her, and struggled to make things clearer. Who was this? Why wasn't she dead? She should have long since lost the battle for life. A voice, speaking to himself, murmuring quietly, broke through her haze. it was familiar. She knew this voice. it wasn't Charles' harsh, drunken slur, it was warmer, kinder. Where had she heard it before?

Those thoughts were pushed away as a new pain brought her sharply out of her haze and into consciousness. A sting at her neck, then burning. Flames licked at her from her core, bringing a broken, guttural cry from the back of her throat. "Esme?" the voice asked quietly. She tried to open her eyes, to search for him, but couldn't. Another groan, her hand twitched. "Esme, it's alright. You're going to be alright."

It was coming to her now. The voice, how she knew it. But, no, she couldn't be this lucky. Forcing her eyes open ever-so-slightly, she hissed against the pain from the light overhead, flinching away until they adjusted. Again, the wild search began, and this time she found him. Her doctor, her angel. Carlisle. She sighed, her eyes falling closed as the darkness reached for her again, pulled her under. But this time, she was not afraid. For her angel had come for her, and no matter what happened, all would be right again, somehow.


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