I would like to first, apologies if this sort of thing is not permitted in the OOC thread, as it is allowed on every other roleplay site I've been on.
Second off, this is a place where I will post examples of my role playing skills, and answer questions. A small part of me is an open book here, for you all to read and perhaps want to have me for your role play. I'm open for most any kind, as long as my character can be developed into something rather than stick to being a two-dimensional twit. It's simply not attractive to me.
Please, feel free to post once I have added an "Open" post after a few samples. I will of course continue to post samples, from literate to semi-lit after you are allowed to post, but I'd just like to hold off your responses long enough to make some sort of literary impression, and hopefully a grand one.
Thank you all for your time, once more.
Forsaken
"And through the heavy tears I cry,
Thine rancid soul; I crucify.
And then in Lucifer's arms, you'll lie,
Dear Child, where you belong."
"Of all that is written, I love only what a person has written with his own blood"
____
I hate what I've become
This darkness has just begun
I must confess that
I feel like a monster
I feel it deep within
It's just beneath the skin
I must confess that
I feel like a monster.
_____
Louden leaned against the tree trunk of a great oak he had climbed some hours ago, one leg dangling off of the branch, the other upon it. His arm was lazily cast over his eyes, the second over his stomach as he sighed softly. He never slept, really, but pretending to felt nice all the same. The teasing wind whipped through the branches and fiddled with his long hair, running through it like caressing fingers of a lover. Ne payed no mind to the feel, or sound... The scent was what interested him. 'Mmmmm... Fresh wounds...' He thought hungrily. His eyes opened in the same lazy manner. Did he really want it that badly..? It was only... What, three hours since his last feed? His lips still tasted of the blood as he ran his tongue slowly over them once. Still moist from them too... He moaned both in his tired state, and from the lust. 'No, I can wait...' He decided, though his words didn't convince him.
He groaned softly and pushed himself up from the tree, standing on the large branch now, over fifty feet in the air. It wasn't very far, really... He swung down, and jumped to the ground, not even needing to land in a crouch as he stretched and popped his neck. When his eyes opened again, they blazed with crimson. The wind was so much stronger down here... It was unfair, really. It was tempting and taunting in all the right ways and he couldn't help himself anymore. He did crouch now, only to jump up and sprint twards the scent that drove him mad.
His search lead him to outside of an inn beside the sea shore. There, in one of the windows, a young woman who looked to be sort of spoiled heiress was nursing a deep cut. From a knife accident in the kitchen with some food, he assumed. Women like her tended to be hopeless with steak knives. But he didn't care for her personal life, it would all be over soon. He leaped from the ground to a lod tree branch and climbed up until he pushed from it to reach the window seal. Just as she had her back turned, he opened the window, slipping in silent as a shadow.
Now all the world matched her heart beat. He could hear it loud and clear... Thump.... Thump.....Thump.... Slow, confident... He could feel the the vibe and pulse through the air, as if it were coming from giant speakers at a concert. The girl looked tward the ground... He bore a shadow, of course. And suddenly she froze. Oh, but not her heart... No, not that.Thump.. Thump.. Thump.. Thump.. She lifted her eyes to a full length mirror. Only she stood within it. Faster still her heat beat. Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump Her lips parted to scream, but nothing came out, his hot breath was on her neck now, as she turned with all the strength she had to see of her senses were betraying her, of god she hoped she was just being paranoid! And he was gone... Her heart, that was faster than can be written out, began go go slow again. A sigh of relief took her, until it was too late. He came from behind and snatched her viciously, his fangs baring as his mouth opened wide and he snarled in a beast-like manner. thumpthumpthumpthump! She went as she tried to scream out with her now found voice-
Too late. The heart beat cut off, suddenly and silently, as he sucked her clean of her life, not so much as one drop of blood being allowed to go anywhere but to him. He was just that good.
He lay her limp, pale, lifeless form on the bed nicely. Her skin looked a little stretched to fit her body as all moisture but what little other fluids there were was gone. Her eyes stared up of eternal horror before he placed his fingers over them and pulled the lids down. Not a moment later, he was gone, the sun hitting the glass of the window, and the silken draped flowing mournfully as he left the unknown place, and unknown meal behind. His craving was not satisfied, but it was content for now as he searched for a new endeavor to occupy his time.
"They say this love is B l a s p h e m y
But my new R e l i g i o n is you.♥
Louden was in his math class, lazily looking out into the yard of the school as his ancient teacher, with his liver spots and thinning white hair, droned on in his usual wheezy manner about equations. Louden was near sleep as his eyeliner-infested eyes blinked a few times before closing. Than they opened again, and so on and so forth. This had been the routine since the class started. He simply already knew everything, it it was no use, in his mind, to pay attention when he would ace the test anyway. He sighed and than yawned as he licked his lips softly. He was a little thirsty... But that could easily wait. He scratched his head and stood up, walking to the front of the class and picking up the hall pass."Hey, I'll be back, m'key Mr Dillard?" he said as he walked off, not bothering to wait for the slow answer as he opened the door and slipped out, his converse slipping along the floor as he stretched in his two-sizes too big hoodie and yawned again, his eyes opening wide to see that was about him.
There were just a couple students walking about the halls, some having planned to meet eachother and were hugging and jazz, whereas some were just lounging about and trying to be rid of the wretched school itself. Lou decided to make his way to a vending machine and put a dollar bill into it, the lights bleeped and he pressed the button for a Coke, receiving it shortly after the machine flashed the words 'thank you' to him as he went on his way throughout the school. He popped the top to the can and drank in loud slurps, that being how he was forced to drink since the can was shaped the way it was. The fizzy liquid woke him up a little, and gave him a small, familiar buzz in his system before he turned back to return to class. He made his way past the language rooms, peering into the french one, just a few moments before the bell would ring. And right on cue, it did.
Students rushed out, as he made his way back to his class, returned the pass, and grabbed his leather jacket. He swung it over his shoulder and walked out. He had five minutes to get to his next class, and he would be there in ten. He didn't bother getting there in time anymore. Instead, he walked outside, where some students were going to the outer buildings of the school to other elective classes. He merely sighed once more, and walked off of the property. On second thought, he would skip this period. He knew german back and forth by now. He saw his car, an '10 lotus, but kept walking. The brisk air felt good to him.
Damion Von Trappt
---------------------☥☥☥--------------------
My name...? Heh... Well, my name is Damion Von Trappt. And I'm your dream come true, and than that dream gone bad. I have been a vampire for some time, now... Centuries... And now I'm stuck in hiding... Bah. These foolish mutts and walking cattle amuse me. The Alpha Dogs think they know so very much. Think we are disappearing. I am still here...
And right now, I'm watching them. High in an oak tree, I watch the mortals struggle against the Wolf Alpha. He looks so smug, like he owns the world. I simply chuckle and sit back... Watching.
But enough of my blabbing on in first person; let's begin in third:
Damion was indeed, sitting there and watching the whole thing. Laying back into the trunk of the tree.If he had some sort of snack of his own, maybe a mute baby, so there would be no noise, he would be in heaven. But no, babies were never mute... typical.
Damion Von Trappt
---------------------☥☥☥--------------------
The male was strong... Damion had to admit that. And as soon as the Alpha Female came, he was heavily intrigued. Though, neither of these things stopped him from noting the other Vampire in the area. Valera, a spunky and seductive red-head, was always a delight to have around. He chuckled softly, though not enough to gain attention. A small shift came to the wind as he felt her come, and than her soft, playful tap. A crooked, but painfully charming smile came to his face, as he turned to her, and nodded a toothy grin in her direction. However, turning his attention back to the Flee-Bitten Dogs after the very brief acknowledgment.
He could smell it in the air... Wet dog. The ice at the bottom of the now wounded wolfs belly soaked his fur... Not that his own blood didn't do that as well. Unlike human blood, werewolf blood smelt like diapers and toxic acid to the Vampire's perfect, pale nose. His senses were disturbed by it, immensely. But non-the-less, he was not going to leave without finishing his entertainment, even if the air quality was suddenly a bitter, over-ripe tang.
"And through the heavy tears I cry,
Thine rancid soul; I crucify.
And then in Lucifer's arms, you'll lie,
Dear Child, where you belong."
❝How can you tell me you love me, when you never really loved yourself?❞
He had noticed... Well, if course he had. She had never tried being a stalker before. It had been a stupid idea. But now she was faced with a fork in the road. Did she have the courage to come out and speak to him? Her gut twisted with the idea. Or would she just sit there, steadily getting a cold of some sort? Oh, she could feel it alright. She always could... The dampness mixed with the cool of the night, how tired she really was... She was becoming ill, and there was nothing to do about it.She sighed, gazing at the strange man, who, like the other one, gave off such a weird sensation of an emotion... Such an attracting, yet repelling aura. She absentmindedly blew her bangs from her eyes in frustration, before standing fully and inching from behind the tree, but no further. Not t'wards him.
She must have looked like a silly sight, no shoes or socks, her bag being clutched, and her face semi-red in embarrassment. Let alone the juicy fact that she was just standing there. Oh, brilliant, Zaqueline. Absolutely brilliant. Her eyes, however, gave away deeper emotions, ones she was not aware of, herself. If she could have seen herself than, she would have denied such a thing. BUt who can deny the undeniable? She took one small, shaky step forward, her breath coming out in cool puffs of steam as the temperature outside dropped. Who was this guy? His look... It seamed familiar somehow. It was evident he looked like he belonged in a different era. So why did she feel this was somehow de ja vu?
Another flashback. She was so young, in her father's enormous library. Her hair long and pulled up into an insufferably high pony tail. The kind moms are always forcing on their children, to make them look cute, I suppose. The uniform to her current boarding school swishing about her softly as she danced alone, in the silent room. Not that it was silent to her. No, a great symphony played in her head. Where from? The open book on the table, where she had been reading. There was a grand ball within the story book, and she could not help herself but try to join.That book...
The flashback faded and she was within herself again, the older, cold, embarrassed self. And the strange man was mocking her with his very presence. Another step forward, before she stopped. No, he would come to her now. She stretched her arm out, pulling the 'come here' finger movement. She wasn't ready to talk yet, and didn't want to speak that much anyway, for that matter. She simply had a curiosity and she could never ignore those. Someone said 'curiosity killed the cat'. She simply retorts, 'satisfaction brought him back.' And goes on with her merry way. Now she was about to satisfy another curiosity, though her heart pounded mercilessly.
...Wαѕн уσυ ρυяє ωιтн Sιℓєи¢e.❅❆❄
Zatchin Rose Scotts
—¤÷(`[¤*╔═════════════════╗*¤]´)÷¤—
Zatchin Rose Scotts
—¤÷(`[¤ ╚═════════════════╝¤]´)÷¤—
Zatchin had fallen asleep behind the drumset, atop the stage. A bright blue bag of gummy worms was in her lap, and her hand held one, partially bitten, red and green worm. All the world was quiet to her, save for her nightmare. Now, she had been dreaming about the boys for a couple of nights now, and it always ended in her crying to herself till she woke up. and this, unfortunately, was no acception.
her head turned softly, one of her arms raised, her chipped-black nail polish was visible as she scratched her head in discomfort, a tear or two falling down her pink cheeks. In all but a moment, her eyes flew open, slowly adjusting to the lighting. She groaned groggily, and stood up, one piece of the ipods ear phones dangling, the other, in her ear. The soft tune of my obsession bluring into her eardrum, as she checked her cell for the time."Oh, shat, we're on in a couple hours.." She said in her small english accent, sighing in a slightly dramatic fashion, her hand playing the first five notes of 'my obsession' on her keyboard, before she trudged off stage, needing to change out of her pj's, which she had worn all day.
Once she was back stage, she realized her shoes were missing, her untra cool, custom neon-anime sneekers from converse. That was bad. Zack dug into her back-pack, being unable to find them there, she went through every case in the room. Her wallet fell out of her purse, and she stopped. There, by her social security card... There was a picture of her, and the boy who was her very best friend in Breaking Fate. She bit her lip in slight anguish, and put it away. She had burned most of her photo's of them, but for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to burn that last one.
Eventually, she found it, it was by a song she had written. She meant to show the others, but she didn't feel it was good enough yet, so she shrugged, and slipped on her shoes. Her figure stood before her in the mirror, bright pink skinny jeans, with blue cheetah spots. A baggy white Fall Out Boy shirt, that she had cut the sleeves off, so it would hang on her shoulders, her pink bra straps and yellow tank top straps showing underneath as she smiled and slipped on her rings, walking back to the stage. One of the amps was acting faulty...
XXXOOOXXXOOOXXX
Zaqueline Nicholae Damea
"Oh baby you're a classic
like a little black dress.
You're a fading moon S t u c k on a little hot mess.. Oh wow, oh wooow.."
--/-<✿
ṃïṡṡ ṡώεετ ḋεṡïģṉεɾ
✿>---
"And oh, baby you're impressive.
Like a Little Black Dress
But you'll be faded soon
Stuck on a l i t t l e hot mess. Oh wow, Oh wooow..."
Zaqueline Nicholae Damea groaned softly, tiredly as she hit the top button of her hello kitty alarm clock, causing the loud beeping to cease in it's tracks. Her long, professionally curved lashes beated against her rosy cheek bones lightly as her bright eyes fluttered open. Yawning in a high-pitched tone, she looked at the time."Oh, sh*t, I'm late!" She groaned loudly, rolling her eyes and she jumped out of bed. She had slept in a half hour... Now she had to be ready and at work in just that much time! She slid across the off-brown carpet of her bedroom floor to her walk in closet. For it being a small, slightly cramped apartment, it was actually really nice, and high quality. Zaque fumbled for her light gray, stone-washed jeans with the old-syle english print on each of the back pockets. Having no luck for a while, she set to the deeper sets of the closet. She came out victorious, and with a sexy little low-cut black blouse. Biting her lip at it, she added a soft pink tank top under it and added a pink pearl necklace and bracelet to her assembly. Also around her neck was the ever constant long chain with a beautiful celtic-style cross on it that she tucked under her shirts and into her bra. She went to her backroom and quickly laced herself with curly and cute pig tails, and light flirty make-up. Rushing back to her room after brushing her teeth, she slipped on some fashionable peep-toe-stilettos that has little black roses on the toes, silk and gorgeous.
Rushing to her long gray shawl, knitted and sensible, she slipped on a baret, also gray and grabbed her small silver purse with her manicured fingers. Yep, this was normal all right. She turned on those expensive heels and rushed from her door, and down the hall. Reaching the elevator on her floor, she took it to the main floor and ran outside for a taxi. The icy air was bitter and unwelcoming to her as she breathed in the chill, and breathed out her own warmth. The cars rushed by her, until finally one taxi pulled over mercifully. As she slid in, she noticed it's heavy scent. Incense, and a very indie one at that. The muslim driver smiled and nodded at her in greeting and she pursed her lips in a confused hello back. It wasn't normal that they were friendly early in the morning... But she finally managed to smile a little and asked him to take her where she needed to go. He nodded and stepped the car into gear, speeding it out of the side of the road into the traffic. Flipping out her cell phone, she swore inside her head. She only had ten minutes... She looked worriedly out of her foggy window as it took nearly five of those minutes for her to get to the coffee shop two blocks from the building. She payed her way out of the taxi and ran inside to find, thank god, it was empty. She sighed softly and ordered a double mocha latte with extra foam and caramel on top, with cinnamon and shaved chocolate.
After getting her coffee, and a few cookies to go with it, she ran out of the shop and made her way as fast as she could in her heels down the first of two blocks. The concrete was not completely ice free, and she nearly slipped. She let out a small squeal as she bit her lip and hurried a little faster, daring the fates to stop her from her job. She finally got to the building just as she had two minuted left. Now, to get to the right floor... She waved a hurried 'hi' to the doorman and ran into the lobby, just as a elevator closed. She gazed up at the ceiling and cussed again under her breath as she ran for one that seamed to be opening close to her. She was going pretty fast, and just might bump into someone as she ran into it...
Alexandria Jynx Steiner
Did I hear my name? Alexandria Jynx, Steiner
I also go by Jynx, Xan.
Lets see whats inside of you
I stand a wonderful 5'6"
Im about a good 132
Im a good looking 18 year old.
Let me name somethings i like +The Moon
+Old black and white movies
+Pissing people off
+Random, old accessories.
Oh my Golly keep these things away from me !!!
-Girls
-Hip Hop
-Summer
-Chat Speak
Lets look deeper now
Want to hear my life story??? Well, I don't think it's interesting at all, but eh, ya never know... Maybe it'll amuse you? Pft, I bet it will.. See, to me, if you are really such a creepy little stalker, that you're trying to read about me instead of get to know me, you're no better than the wall I feel like I'm speaking to. But if you really wanna know, here it goes; I was born and raised in between here, and Britain. Why? Cause Mummy and Daddy divorced when I was a wee tike, and Daddy moved back to his lovely little Cottage on the borders of England and Scotland. Mummy dearest stayed behind in good ol' Germany. So, you see my red hair? I only colour it for depth. It's naturally that color, thanks to Dad. I've inherited the Scottish temper, and sense of amusement along with it as well. I'm telling ya, I thoroughly enjoy pissing people off. Why? Because it is only when we push people to their limits do we see who they really are. And fights? Been there, done that. Mum called me 'the problem child'. And maybe she's right. But I'm not about to change myself for her,or anyone else in this silly country.
I'm known as the b***h at school. But hey, I can't help it. If you say something to me in a sassy tone, I'll spit something right back. I don't take to people talking s**t very kindly. But I suppose, if you get to know me and learn to understand that I say things just to be a snot, you might not mind the fiery red head you see too much. There now, are ya happy? You know pretty much everything there is to know about me. Do you need a lock of hair too or will you leave me in peace already?
I have a crush on one of the boys you want to hear who? Luther, of course.
The one who whispers in my ear......
iK E C H E R O
Alexandria, the crude prankster and world renowned 'Bitchzilla' was in the halls of the high school, running her tail off. Now, for just a moment, let's backtrack;
Why was she running? Well, this is how the day began: Alexandria had woken up today, like any other day, and realized it was just three days till Christmas. Now, this being the case, she didn't feel obliged to go to school. At least, not to learn. She met up with Hans Zollikon, her only friend, really, and an odd boy, she had to admit, but they were okay friends. Now, it just so happened they came across the fireworks shop, since the government usually allowed then to light such things during the holidays. And oh, you can just guess what happened next... Well, long story short, the toilets were filled with stink bombs before the first period teachers could realize those particular students were absent, and with water and smoke spilling everywhere now, her and her friend decided it was about time to exit- Stage Right.
Now back to where we began. she ran down the hall to her escape door, and found a broom. This caused a chuckle as she picked it up and continued to run down the hall, hitting the walls, door etc, with the back of said broom. It was Christmas, after all. Sticks were a big part of that. See, in Germany, children, Santa? Yeah, you know him. He doesn't give gifts to the good Children, or carry a bag o' presents. Santa Klaus carried a bag of sticks. Peculiar, no? Well, this is because, in good old Deutchland, he not only doesn't give gifts to the good, but he punishes the bad. There's a goody little spirit who takes care of the good, of course, but not he. Oh, no Sir. And this, friends, is the reason why she took such an obscure interest in said stick. After all, if some annoying Teacher or whatever should decide to get in the way... Well... She wondered if she would or wouldn't.
But, as it happened, no one got in her way as she ran from the school halls and down the street, discarding the broom after a block or two into an alley way. She sighed and breathed semi-heavily. "Well, that was an adrenaline rush..." she pointed out to herself. Apparently, Hans had decided to run off with the friends he spent most of his time with. Which was fine by Xan. She preferred wandering alone anyway...
~Chasm~
I'm pleased to hear that.^ ^
I would be delighted to see a sample or two, perhaps develop a feel for your writing style.
As for ideas, I have a few. Or many, depending on your poison. I suppose a genre would be a good place to start... Romances are popular, but you must be careful with them, or else it's dull and the story line falls away to the lovey-dovey side, and dies. Horror is also fairly desired, but can get out of hand.. Then again, any genre can.
What are you most comfortable with?
I'm really fairly open, and simply need guidelines. Then I'm ready to create.
"And through the heavy tears I cry,
Thine rancid soul; I crucify.
And then in Lucifer's arms, you'll lie,
Dear Child, where you belong."
Let me take you down
cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields Nothing is real
And nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever.
|____✿___✿___✿____| ::--/--<✬
e a r t h ' s l o r d
✬>----:: |____✿___✿___✿____|
Living is easy with eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see
It's getting hard to be someone But it all works out
It doesn't matter much to me.
No one I think is in my tree
I mean it must be high or low
That is you can't, you know, tune in
But it's alright
That is i think it's not too bad
Ziggva, whom has been absent throughout this tale so far, secluded herself within a small, self-made garden within the household. On the sixth floor, of course. Where else could she exercise her creativity within this prison cell of a home? A soft hum pushed past her lips as she indulged herself within her semi-amused mind. A new flower, she thought, was in order. Something friendly, something wild, and abundant... Something for mankind to enjoy. Maybe a little bit of daisy, hmmm... No, forget-me-not would work better. Add some nice texture, like a rose. Oh! Color, too. Pink, red, orange and yellow. A sunset, nice and settle. Hmmmm... A bit bigger, yes, and fuller. And so on and so forth as the flower developed, straight from her mind, to reality. The finished product turned out lovely,
She sighed sweetly, softly, pulling the pins from her hair to let it fall. They had been in so long, her head had begun to receive a headache. Her long hair rippled down her back, and her shoulders, as she calmly took a brush and went through it all. Her garden looked so happy, it did her heart good to witness it. Her bright eyes dancing with delight as she continued to brush through her fine hair. A deep mask, to be sure. To read those eyes would allow any onlooker access to the secrets they held. Her youthful looks gave way to the aged, worn look of her eyes. But none the less, she pulled her hair up again after the brushing had done it's job, and added one of the new flowers to her array of roses, hibiscus, daisies, and whatnot within her bundles up hair. Bidding her creations farewell, she stepped from her bedroom, and closed the door softly behind her.
The stairway was long, and almost uninviting in it's eternal length. Nonetheless, she took one step downward, and another, and so and and so forth, carrying herself in her usual dignified manner down the steps of the house. The silence of the area around her was almost haunting in it's multitude, her ears only allowed the sound of her soft breathing, and the rustle of her dress as she descended to the main floor. She passes the fifth, the fourth, the third, all without much thought to it. This was routine by now, a dance she had down to a T. The sound of a violin drifted up to her, the silence shattering to make way for it's melodic tune. "Ah, Cedric is playing again..." She voices to herself. She smiled and hummed along with it, until it ended in notes, and the sound echoed for a short while before ending as well. 'A pity, I missed it...' She thought, as her ears were submitted to silence once more. The water lord was kind, and friendly. She spoke to him less and less, however. Of late, Ziggva has been secluding herself more and ever more within her room. The interest this life used to hold was fading now, and she found she would much rather detach herself from it, and devote herself to studies once more. Old habits die hard, even after three hundred years.
As she came to her destination, she found it to be full of little, to no people. A smile broadened on her face for a moment, and a small greeting wave came as well, before she walked into another room, hoping to find another book to entertain herself with. She had come close to reading every single book there, now. But she always seamed to find one that had escaped her vision beforehand. And she hoped, sincerely, that this would continue. Sure, she always had a doll to amuse herself with, but that got old after a short while... About one hundred years. Plus, after her past, she really tried to give her doll as many freedoms as possible. She had no use for a female, for one, and for another, she simply preferred to be alone. Her and her doll maybe saw each other a few times a week, at most. And it seamed that they both liked it that way.
Indeed, it only took her about three minutes, once reaching the library, to find a book or two she had never read. Each one at least seven hundred, or so pages. They would amuse her for two or three days. They always did. Her thin, pale, gentle arms enfolded around them as she walked back to the main entertainment room of the old mansion. The white silk, satin, and lace of her long sleeves wrapped the books in a cloak of purity as she looked about her, a small amount of curiosity building, part of her wondering what everyone was up to, where they were... A small need for a social gathering building inside her.
☀S t r a w b e r r y f i e l d s f o r e v e r.☀
Alice De La Cruzze
Y o u 'r e being laughed at...
❝ [L]aughter on one's lips is a sign that the person down deep has a pretty good grasp of life. ~Hugh Sidey ❞
...By A l i c e De La Cruzze.
Lιмє Sнєявєт
Alice, Ace, Ally... Too many names? I think so. But the one that best suits her, other than the curvaceous and delicate, yet playful 'Alice'... Would have to be The Joke. Because she simply never takes life seriously. Or anything in it, for that matter. Men? Silly little play things. Women...? Eh, could easily live without the gabbing drama. War...? Ultimate play time. Though it bores her... if you're gonna play with knives, and run with guns, (something Mommy always tells up not to do), you might as well have a good cause to do it. Not a He-Said/She-Said soap opera. It's all rather obnoxious and annoying... Not that it gets to Alice that easily.
Now, Alice has been a Vampire for a good forty-one years. Having been turned by whomever-it-was at the age of nineteen. Now she is sixty years of age, and has a better 'Youthful Skin' plot than any of the silly models. Of course, it's something you have to die for. She chuckled softly as the utterly lame joke entered her mind. Her piercing eyes gazing back at her through the large mirror she had placed in her vanity, within her dark room in the mostly quiet manner. Even during the most active of times in the house, it was usually really quiet. Vampires had a way of- well, being silent as the dead. Her brows furrowed slightly and her full lips puckered; that should be well enough Vampire jokes for the moment. She might over-do it... And you always want your audience to crave more. Stickey-notes were few, but bright in the upper left corner of the mirror. News of the current events didn't phase her much. Though, she was a little... concerned about the murmured news about the little girl from the wolf clan going missing. The news about one of her fellow Vampires having been killed was only a shock for the moment. He had shrugged it off after that much time. There was nothing she could do about it, so she shouldn't have to linger on it. In fact; she laughed. Knowing what little she did about the man, he would not exactly be thrilled about everyone whining, if they were. But then again, she knew him very little at all.
If it was the wolves, they were in for another one of the all-too-common wars between the two immortal races. And maybe the dense Humans would join? Who knows. But as she pondered these things, her usual smile faded into a small frown. It was... Unusual. Was that little girl even really missing..? It could be just another elaborate plot. Her eyes blinked, and opened to the smile again. She hated frowns... A soft sigh came as she brushed out her hair with slow strokes of her old comb, from her very late grandmother. She had gone out to restock on her large box of gummy worms, bears, spiders... And who knew what else. But the night was drawing to a close... And even the black curtains that covered her huge windows would not stop her drowsiness as the sunlight came up from the mountains, and the mortals began their day. Her long, soft fingersswept her hair into a pony-tail and she raised a humored eyebrow at herself, before speedily sweeping from her bedroom and into the hall.
She could see no one, as she closed her door and made for the main hall. She felt in the mood for a bit of blood, before she would retire back to her bedroom. She had not truly carried on a conversation with anyone, since the Vampirian Death. Everyone was all serious, and it bored her to tears. Of course... There were those who were upset with her for not sharing the outrage. So she had secluded herself in her room, in order to wait it out. But as she recalled, she kept a pack or two of her favorite blood type in a freezer within one of the usually occupied rooms of the Manner. Unfortunately, as she reacked it, and opened the lid, she found they were gone. A soft pout came to her lips... She would have to try and find a mortal within two hours. Great. She sighed and stood up, making for the front door to satisfy her bloodlust.
Dahlia- Alpha Werewolf
Ďdaнlιa ☾--☾--☾--☾--☾--☾{♕ a l p h a::f e m a l e ♕}☽--☽--☽--☽--☽--☽
★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆
Moments after Vail had left, Dahlia turned to the lovely black male and nodded to him in greeting, and bowed softly in farewell. She had to get back to the pack... The Alpha had orders on how long she should be gone... She was strong... But not strong enough to beat him if it came down to such a thing. When she got too wounded; she turned to a human. She would be done for if that happened. It was a complication with being a common... Not that she was easy to wound, so deeply. Her and the Alpha got along, mostly. He was no genius, but he wasn't dumb enough to expect anothing more than her company of the young Alpha Female.
She trotted to the dens, and sniffed at the air... Fresh meat. At least someone had ben successful in hunting... Yet the little one's were not eating? She growled softly. The Alpha. She had a small bone to pick with him now... she made for where his scent was coming from... And than... She picked up on Vail. Oh, no...They had not been on good terms of late. She picked up her pace, and found a crowd was forming. They were fighting! This would turn out as life, or death... These two wouldn't end at victory. Especially not the Alpha... He was beating Vail to a pulp... This saddened her. She turned her head away to leave... She had seen the young wolf bleed enough today. Until... No... It couldn't be... She heard the Alpha yelp, and silence... Before Vail, the new Alpha made his first howl of declaration. An eyebrow raised from Dahlia, as she smiled a little, amused. Well.. She'd have to see how the fate of the pack played out now...
Ďaнlιa ☾--☾--☾--☾--☾--☾{♕ a l p h a::f e m a l e ♕}☽--☽--☽--☽--☽--☽
★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆
Dahlia heard the eager youth, long before she saw him again. She had to admit, she envied the Ferrels... She, being a Common, has a human side as well as Wolf. He, however, was not one ounce human. He was unquestionable for leadership. She still had doubters, in the pack. Never mind that she had proven herself a hundred times over. And how a male, fife or so years her junior, had outranked her? She wasn't bothered by it, in the least. He was strength, she was might, and knowledge. And he would certainly do better than her wretched last mate. "No, Alpha. I am not saddened. You are the rightful leader, as was proven. I am merely intrigued by what awaits out pack next." She said thoughtfully, her tail wagging a bit at well, and her ears at top attention, accepting this audience with her new Mate. She licked her muzzle, and decided mentally she would fetch a drink when this was all done. "And I never avoid, Young Alpha. I simply lead my life to my own tune." She corrected him, before dutifully licking his muzzle and nuzzling his nose. Than she bowed once more, and proceeded to move around the large body that belonged to him.
★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆
James Lloyd Anderson
Did I hear my name?
James Lloyd Anderson
Lets see whats inside of you
I stand a wonderful five feet, eleven inches
Im about a good 185lbs
Im a good looking one hundred and fourteen years old. but i look like a youthful eighteen.
I was born a Demon, my dear.
Lets look deeper now
Want to hear my life story??? Well, I assure you, it's an interesting one. See, my mother was a young German girl, who was very gothy and anti-christ in her youth. One day, as a joke with her little friends, she sold her soul to the devil. Nothing happened, and so she continued to believe it was a joke. She went on with her life until she was about... Oh... My age, I should say. She played another little game... They had a ritual, and all. She bound herself to the devil, and joked how she wanted to bare his child. Moi. But you see... Jokes are hard to take in a jesting manner when you wake up a few weeks later, bruised and the sheets bloody. She thought something completely different of course, and went a little loopy from it. Three months down the road, the signs of pregnancy were clear as day. Except, it wasn't the most innocent sight. Her stomach looked as if it was being drained of all the blood it held. She was hospitalized for the remaining six months, having to be given blood 24/7 and always becoming ill.
See... I killed my mother at childbirth. Oh, yes children, that's right. And it wasn't by accident like those of you who have. I have always been conscious in my deeds. I remember my whole life. Of course, over a hundred years ago, they couldn't do much to protect my mother anyway. Doctors were so inferior. I have never met my father, but I feel him... Speaking through me as well as to me. I even raised myself, all alone in a house hidden from the naked eye. My heart...? What they say about hell is false. It's not hot, or scorching. it's cold and dead as ice. It's lifeless and merciless. Which would you rather, a quick death by lava, or being frozen to the bone, and slowly feeling the ice break your life away chip by chip? The winter is the time of hell itself. And so, my heart is cold and merciless. I take the lives of willing and entranced woman as I please, just to feel myself with their warm, unmatchable blood. Their pulse under my lips... It's my only indulgence in this otherwise unsatisfying world.
The one who whispers in my ear......
iK E C H E R O
He smirked as she looked, than looked away. She thought she was somehow 'sticking it to the man'... Him. It was delightful. Now, James acknowledged he was an egotistical douche, and she was probably looking down on him. But it only caused him to peruse. Because he liked her? No. He wasn't even remotely attracted. Her defiant and indifferent nature simply provided an amusement for him until his friends texted back. He sat up, and leaned off of the car swiftly, noting a cute blonde girl from School walk by with another lad latched at her side, than lazily hung his hands from his pockets as he stepped swiftly forward to the red-heads car. The icy snow crunched below his sneakers and shifted as his lengthy pants pushed it aside ever so softly. His breath, still as slow as ever, left clouds of steam in the dim winter air. He didn't have to walk far at all, in order to reach his destination.
Once getting there, he simply looked at her with a playfully raised brow, and a small smile. His deep, rich hair framing his slightly chilled face and deep set features. Lifting one hand, he tapped three times on the hood of her car with two fingers, and than pulled it away for the haven of his pocket again. Would she continue to ignore him? Perhaps. But he shrugged the thought away. Either way, he would be in a state of complete boredom. This would just postpone it a while.
Before the guy could answer, she heard a 'thump' from a short distance by the fire. "Hold that thought." She said, pulling her hair behind her shoulders as she cleared her throat softly. She drew her pistol upward a little, and stepped t'ward the noise. The fires danced in their twisted ways, offering jealousy to all those who ever dreamed of the perfect dance. The reflection of the flames pounded on the shape, no, body of another guy. different, though. In many ways, he was different. For one, the tortured look upon his face. Was he infected? "What are you?" Hardly the kindest opening lines, but it was what she needed to know first, before deciding to take care of him, or take care of him. She cocked her gun, ready if the need be. "You don't look infected, but I won't take chances if you don't speak." She added after a small moment.
This was all so bizarre, two guy's coming out of nowhere within the same day. No, the same ten minutes. That was weird. And they didn't seam to know one another, either. Were there more survivors than she thought? This one even looked like herself and the black haired one, normal. That was a very rare find. His eyes, though, made her want to cry. He looked forgotten, beaten, broken... Like a doll that has been left in a closet, because the little girl doesn't want to play anymore. And Zaque found herself not knowing what to do.
Sweet little words made for silence not talk
Young heart for love not heartache
Dark hair for catching the wind
Not to veil the sight of a cold world
First day of love never comes back
A passionate hour's never a wasted one
The violin, the poet's hand
Every thawing heart plays your theme with care
Roslynn awoke with a start, her pale hand grasping the silken sheets between the fingers. Her smooth, honey/milk complexion reflected in the waning moonlight, as the stars prepared to give way to the sunlight and another day in the Paris Opera House. If there was ever a moment where her heart beat this fast, it was not in her bedchambers. She gently shifted her heat over to the large mirror that all of the ballerinas in these more expensive apartments shared. She could catch a glimpse of a few other girls, fast asleep, and spread out in this large room. The deep Persian carpets stood out boldly, even in the mellow light of the night time that was still upon them. thu-thump...thu-thump... beat her racing heart. She could hardly grasp that she was in her room, on her bed, and wrapped snug in her silk and fur blankets. The sheets rustling under her frame as she turned to place her glassy sight on the ceiling.
In the darkness, the patterns of the ceiling tiles looked like many a thing. You can only imagine the fright that might occur of one woke from a nightmare to such twisting and turning shaped. In the day, they were cupids, and angels. By night, they looked demonic. The pale-white of their cloths looking ominous and otherworldly. The strokes of paint that made up clouds and floral patterns looked more thorny. Binding, almost. And it struck a curious, yet fearful beat to her heart. it was slowing now, she could feel her breath returning. Yet strangely, she heard it as clear as ever. Her heart his her chest repeatedly, demanding attention as the organs do from a chapel on a cool sunday morning, beckoning people out of the lazy ignorance their home provides.
Thu-thump... thu-thump... thu-thump... Yes, it was definitely slowing down. She placed a hand there, after releasing the sheets that, up till that moment, she had still been clinging to. She closed her eyes, trying to re-enter the realm of sleep, before the long day of endless, back-aching labor. Dance. And more dance, awaited her. Her arched feet, pointed toes, and slender legs would leap across the enormous stage, with the other ballerinas, and tell a story to the paying upper-class who came to flaunt their status depending on where they seated themselves. The performance last night had gone wrong, though. But thankfully the other actors were well enough in their trade, that they pulled it off without the audience knowing of the rumpus. Oh, but after the curtains closed, you better believe there was a scolding, and brutal punishment. In the realm of entertainment, when you are a puppet performing whatever the world wants to see, there's no room for mistakes. That puts a crack right in the mask you've been parading in. And then, your audience is no longer interested. And these thoughts are what Roslynn ponders as she finally drifts back into a sound sleep, resting her false smiles for just a bit longer... Because if you mess up, they will awaken from the dream you try your best to put over them. And you, will lose your chance to be remembered at more than a painted face that was on a stage, once upon a time.
Kiss while your lips are still red
While he's still silent
Rest while bosom is still untouched, unveiled
Hold another hand while the hand's still without a tool
Drown into eyes while they're still blind
Love while the night still hides the withering dawn
"And through the heavy tears I cry,
Thine rancid soul; I crucify.
And then in Lucifer's arms, you'll lie,
Dear Child, where you belong."
Hey there. :]
I saw your thread and like nearly /all/ of your males. O:
I'm looking for a kind of, troubled romance, I guess? Damion would be perfect for the brief idea I have in mind, but I'd also really like to hear what you want to do.
Hey, Draco...
I like your bed...
Can I Slytherin? ;D
*_* ~Is amused and in love with characters and writing style~
CAN WE DO A RP TOGETHER?!
KEI-KEI:Taeko: There's a great black hole like a great black pit and it's filled with people who are filled with shit and the vermin of the world inhabit it and It goes by the name of London. ~Sweeney Todd
Greetings!
You're characters interest me very much. Would you consider doing a vampireXslayer roleplay with me? I have plotline if you like to see it. If you wish to look it will be the first plot in my 'plot examples' post. Follow this link if you so desire.
Trisphee
> Creative Corner
> Roleplayers' Realm
> OOC
>
Willing Roleplayer (samples and such for your consideration)
Taeko:
There's a great black hole like a great black pit and it's filled with people who are filled with shit and the vermin of the world inhabit it and It goes by the name of London. ~Sweeney Todd
