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 Posted: Tue Sep 12, 2006 8:01 am
It was cliche. All of it was horribly cliche, back into the woods, all owned by a private buyer, was a reasonable sized bar/hotel, not far from the city. Like tavern/inns of the old age, but modern through and through.
It was known far and wide as being a hang out for... 'different' sorts of people. Meaning that vampires, demons, and a few brave humans flocked to the place on a regular basis.
It was wooden, sturdy, and when you opened the big oak door, you were entering a large room, with dim lighting, (conscious of their undead members eyes.) A long bar ran along the back wall, with a kitchen through the door behind that. And though there was someone on duty part of the time, for the most part it was up to the customers to get what they desired.
Heavy magic had been put on the place, so it wouldn't run out of liquor or food, ensuring that the owner could leave for days at a time without poor side effects, for which the customers were incredibly grateful.
Inside the main room, were several small square tables, which, when needed, could be fit together to create longer better tables. A hall was along one wall, leading to the simple rooms along the back.
Another wall, went half way across the room, only rising half way up, so you could see into the lounge area, filled with plush couches, chairs, and a warm fireplaces for relaxing.
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Posted: Tue Sep 12, 2006 8:11 am
Rules
1.) This is a literate roleplay, I expect a few paragraphs, good description, and originality in your posts.
2.) I'm not going to say be respectful. Just follow the ToS and guild rules.
3.) Send profiles to me, post them here, I don't care.
4.) As for profiles, use your own, or mine, I really don't care, just make sure it covers the basics. Name. Age. Race. Appearance. Personality. History.
5.) One liners... No. One PARAGRAPH I can understand those at TIMES. But no one liners. You can ALWAYS do more than that.
6.) Use spell check for Gods sake. I have one for my web browser, and I have Word in case I'm typing them up there. Either way you can find SOME way to check your posts spelling. That, and proof read, you can almost always find a few mistakes, or things that just sound odd after re-reading.
7.) No puppeting. My character is my character, not yours.
8.) No god-modding, power playing, or auto hitting. No. I am not invincible, but I DO get the chance to avoid, or deflect the shot if I feel like it. The same goes for killing, both parties need to consent, not just you.
9.) First character, third character, present tense, past tense. I don't give a crap. But pick one, and stick to it. I don't want something like 'He looked at the puppy, and then I saw how cute the puppy was, and I was petting it, and then it went away.'
10.) OOC needs to be defined as such. I don't care how. But make it obvious.
11.) Asterisks... I understand you can be literate and use asterisks, but I don't like it, so please, don't. Book form.
12.) I am God of the thread. If I say leave, leave. And rules are ALWAYS subject to change, with or without notice.
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Posted: Tue Sep 12, 2006 8:12 am
Profiles
I'm not posting your profiles here. I'll post the page number you're on, and your screen name.
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Posted: Tue Sep 12, 2006 8:13 am
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Posted: Tue Sep 12, 2006 8:17 am
My profile.
Full Name: Alicia Anjela Sanchez.
Date of Birth: Who knows? If they do, they're not telling.
Apparent Age: Between eighteen and twenty-one.
Race: Vampire.
Appearance: Originating from Spain, her skin is a darker colour than most vampires, but lighter than that of her kin. Her eyes are a dark, dark brown, liquid, like melted milk chocolate, and almond shaped like a cats.
Her hair is raven black, thick and wavy, permanently, and is quite long, reaching her lower back when let down.
For the most part she wears something comfortable, jeans, t-shirt, sneakers, and a jacket. Though occasionally she'll get in an odd sort of mood and appear in traditional Spanish garb, complete with over exaggerated accent.
No matter what she's wearing, one thing is a constant; around her neck is always a beaded choker, in a Spanish design, filled with reds, golds, and blues, brilliant, standing out, and incredibly dear to her heart. Though no one has really inquired as to why.
Tall, curvy, and finely sculptured features as a mixture of her Spanish heritage and vampiric siring complete her appearance nicely in her mind, never one to be modest.
Weapons: She likes shiny things. What with her short attention span. Her weapon cabinet, or suitcase, or pockets, whatever it is, is mostly compiled of knives, as she likes to take her time with a murder. There's always the occasional gun though, because not even she would take a knife to a gun fight.
Abilities: Aside from the normal vampiric abilities, her 'dark gift' of sorts is electricity. Quite the ability, to have control over electrical current, and heaven forbid you be around her during a thunderstorm, as of last count the amount of times she'd been struck by lightening was in the triple digits.
Personality: Smart, manipulative, and sarcastic are what would first come to mind when meeting Alicia, and though all three are true to a tee, she goes deeper than that. One for manners, she can range from charming and sweet, to down right nasty at times. Always random she will often burst into Spanish, ignoring the fact that most of those she meet either don't speak the language, or will soon be dead.
She likes to play. Like a child, hide and seek, duck, duck, goose, Marco polo, and tag, all with a deadly twist which fulfills her sick mind.
Though she wouldn't look it, much blood has been spilt over her pretty little hands, and more still to come.
History: Raised in a small Spanish town, at the age of twelve she was taken to England with her older sister, and brother, her parents casualties in a domestic war of her hometown village. No real records or accounts are kept of her after that until she was sired by a novice vampire in some small American city. After that she resurfaced in her old Spanish hometown to wreak revenge on demons of her past.
That fulfilled she seemed to drift around, here and there, touring Europe, and when questioned about why once, she was reported to have responded with a laugh along with a brushed off, "I heard they tasted like chicken."
From Europe she continued to travel the world, blood thirsty, young, and adventurous, leaving a trail of bodies in her wake, though none were reportedly sired by the young woman. Eventually she caught word of a tavern/inn/hotel-ish vampire hang-out called the "Careless Adversaries" with a city close at hand. Always curious and out for trouble, she decided to make her way there.
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Posted: Tue Sep 12, 2006 8:49 am
"I thought this would be more... active..."
The vampiress mused as she strolled into C.A. like she owned the place.
Hips swinging, arms folded, she surveyed the area, and then dramatically threw herself down on the couch, spread out like a lethargic cat in the middle of summer.
"Mm.. And I though my boredom would be cured here. A pity. I did so want a play thing..." Purring softly in front of the fireplace, basking in the heat, the woman stared at the floor, watching an ant.
She didn't like ants, but she named this one Joe. Joe was picking up crumbs and delivering them to a hole in the floor. Maybe Joe had a wife and children he was feeding.
As Joe came back for another big crumb, Alicia lazily reached over and squished him with her index finger.
With morbid, childlike curiosity, she studied what remained of Joe, and then unceremoniously wiped it on the couch, swinging her feet around and standing up, energetic and ready to move again.
Oh, oh, oh, oh.
With vampiric speed she ran to the bar, starling the young night shift man, launched herself over the counter, and dangled herself through the kitchen window, studying the terrified cook with curiosity.
"I want to play." She said slowly, and he just trembled some more.
Well that was no fun. It was only fun if they participated. Grabbing a piece of fried chicken on a bamboo stick and chewing on it as she went back into the lounge room.
Bah. Human food... She wanted something good.
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Posted: Tue Sep 12, 2006 5:15 pm
Name: Artolian Morvios Daunic
Age: It's rather hard to tell, as they were "unborn" until about three hundred years ago.
Race: Demon just what kind is another story.
Personality: Artolian is a all too serious person, enjoying the idea that they are much better than anyone else. Overly proud of their bloodline, and never bending to meet the "human" ways. Artolian doesn't believe in random murderous, or should I say Artolian doesn't believe that quick, painless murders should exist. They would rather cut every limb off a person while they bleed to death, than start with their head. A murderous grin can be found upon their face when the mood is permitting. But still seems to be a strict, proud, and serious person. Inspite of Artolian's appearance, their personality depicts that of a male.
Appearance: Artolian sports a set of red horns that start at his forehead and curl under themselves until they are tiny points. Artolian's hair is long in wavy auburn locks, eyes are a yellow/golden cold that turn red when angered. One thing a person may observe from first glance at Artolian, is that Artolian is a female, with the curves of a woman in the outfit of a green crushed velvet long coat that fits tighty around them, a vest with a red "poof" covering Artolian's chest, the very could very well be covering Artolian's "chest", but none very well know, Artolian also wears a long green pants showing off a set of feminim hips. Artolian's face however has scars upon it, and has a slight "manly" feature to it.
Gender: Despite Artolian's personality, and features, Artolian is neither Male, or Female. Artolian is just simply both.
History: (I will be using the term He for Artolian for the momen being) He was raised in the depths of hell by his proud father, raise under his "wing" so to speak, he always looked up to his dad, wishing to one day become as great as he. Artolian one day realized that the only way he could become as great as his father, was to go to the "above ground", and gather imformation, and when he decided he was strong enough, to return and murder his father. He has a great dislike for the human kind, but he tolerates it for the time being, however he seems to b lost in the times of the world. Being "born" into the world in a strange time, and an even odder way. He was implanted into a woman of great sin, and then as soon as he was born in a dark alley and she saw the evil in his eyes, she dumped him in the nearest trash can and went back to her "work"... This was his first impression of the human world, however, being a demon he was able to age much faster, and walked away from that alley, loathing humans forever. Now he's found word of a tavern where he doesn't have to feel the stares of the dispicable humans, and he decided to make this his destination, his "hangout".
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Posted: Wed Sep 13, 2006 7:41 am
((One note, I may post He or She, for Artolian's actions.))
Artolian Morvios Daunic was the name this "demon" answered to, though not many people called the name if they didn't want death upon themselves. The creature seemed to have a pleased look upon their face, at the finding of a "unique" tavern. Artolian pushed open the oak door greeted by the normally unfriendly dim lightly and the scent of the sorts that this place attracted, but to Artolian, this was the place to be. A home to those without one, a place where the normally unfamiliar and strange, became the familiar and normal. Artolian stolled on in, his pompous air about him filling the room. He walked up to the bar, it didn't seem like any other bar he'd been to. "A beer please. With a half an half mixture of blood." The drink was served to him, and he swirled the drink, service was good that was atleast known. Normally he wouldn't lay even a thought upon his drink of choice, but it was a craving he'd had for the day, a craving that if not fed would turn into a vicious hunt. He sipped it down and let the feeling trickle down it throat. Enjoyable was the pleasuring taste of blood with the slight bitter taste of beer to ease it down. Artolian wasn't a vampire so blood wasn't a drink of choice often... As stated, it was a craving he'd had.
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