Briza

The Demon Within

James walked up to the castle. His scarf scrunched around his neck. In the past several days, weeks, months, his scarf had become some sort of comfort object. He pretended it shielded him from the defeating voice inside of his head. James was a man of science and nothing about the voice made sense. It was not logical, but yet, something so eerily devastating about its precision in demanding his body to react to situations in such ways--his former mind was losing its control and balance and above all, its harmony. He had tried to kill himself, but failed. He failed to kill himself.

In fact, he had only tried to kill himself after his sister had decided to have a serious relationship with some other man or boy--James did not care. It was all the same, he was losing his sister, his mind, his heart. He spent thirty days in a behavior correction center. All he felt was himself getting worse and worse, losing more and more--except his scarf. He still had his scarf.

The fabric warmed his neck, his throat, his vocal chords. They are warm and calm. But the voice was still talking, demanding. Did it ever sleep, he wondered. With tired eyes he stared at the castle in front of him. The illogical, absurdity of the situation left him with no other solution. He was worn and wanted relief. He wanted something better than just a scarf as his comfort. He wanted his sister back, but her innocence was gone. He had wanted it for himself, and he felt lost just knowing how lost he had been before the voice began scribbling all over the story of his life.

"Hullo?" his voice, with all the hope he could muster, called out to Katherin, anyone. He was feeling uneasy, as if this castle idea had been just a hoax--another lost cause.

Run and hide

Such a dainty creature she was, but firm. His sudden interest in her only increased with her feminine features becoming clearer to him, and with his hands still in his pocket he replied to her question, "My last slave seems to have disappeared. I loved her dearly," he smiled almost sheepishly at her, but kept a cheeky warm smile. Some endearing reminders of his now deceased slave darkened his mind for a split second, but not preventing his conversation skills. He pulled his hands out of his pockets, "My name is James," he bowed to her, politely, out of respect, of course. Asking for her hand to shake would have been a direct No-No in the manner's book. "May I ask for you name?"

He smiled at her, once, again, glancing down at her small frame. He stood well over her, an above average man in height. He was also lean in build and strong, of course--a vampire. By comparing their shadows, one could see a definite, noticeable size difference.

He looked at lonely Alex, dirty and scuffed in his cage. "$7,600, please."

The Demon Within

Appearance

Name:James Estuert

Age: 23

Personality & Biography: James is more of an introvert than an extrovert. Of course, along with his introversion comes a cheeky smile and padded mouth. He is no angel, but his lack of innocence does not make him all evil. He tends to lean toward the darker, more unfortunate humor of society, but in such a process he prefer to be polite. Above all else, manner, manners, manners.

James Estuert was raised by his mother. His father, unfortunately, passed away early in James' life. Of course, not so yearly that he was not able to produce a younger sister for James. His younger sister is his favorite person. Yes, favorite. James loves favorites. In fact, he has a slightly hard time sharing, especially when it comes to favorites. He has a violent side, which has not spread to humans, and of course, he prefers hiding this side from his darling, perfect, beautiful sister.

James is a recent college graduate. Biology major. Dissecting. Latin. Microscopes. What was there more for him to love? His sister, of course. His beloved sister. Yes, James loves his sister to such an extent, he has a hard time parting his thoughts from her. It may be he feels and thinks to be her dad or something more. Regardless, his love for his sister shows through his slightly, more feminine manners.

Demon: Open

The Demon Within

Count me in!

Run and hide

"$7,300, please," he glanced at the young lady demon bidding next to him. Oh, how darling. His need to win was not so high, anymore. He loved pretty things, the delicate outlines of her jaw, the softness of her hair. Oh, and her teeth biting her lips. He wouldn't mind her winning. But how could such a dainty, pretty, little creature want so badly this dirty, caged slave, animal?

"What do you plan to do with him?" He asked. Good sportsmanship, of course, is always a fine way to bid and inquiring. "If you win, that is?" James glanced around, looking for any other bidders that may sprout in the next few seconds. His eyes averted to Dominik and then to Luciana's slave. She is bidding for a second slave?

The Uprising

Appearance, casual

Appearance, uniform

Name: Jane Lowe
Nickname: "Lo"
Race: Human
Age: 21
Brief history: Jane, also referred to Lo, as a nickname in reference to her last name is a pilot for trading vehicles. She could be considered some modern-day mail(wo)man. However, she is not just a mail or cargo carrier for the volks or common folks of the metropolis, but specifically for the military. Her intelligence is based on what the military tells her. Her parents are average humans who are very conservative and slightly racist toward other aliens. With Lo being in the military, she has bad to quickly make peace with other races and understand the difference are positive benefits that can be used for unity and peaceful pursuits of the universe. Of course, her views do not change the views of her parents. These ideas have lead a drift between the family and her.

Lo is the only child. She suffers from the Only-Child Syndrome and demands attention. This serves her well in the military, as her hard head has pushed her into higher ranks with the military--she is able to fly a Pidgeon (military aircraft for cargo delivery) after all. That, and she's a woman! A human woman! ... Not that gender issues have not been an issue in this modern day (supposedly). She tends to distance herself from her parents, they want a traditional life for their daughter. At least, as traditional as possible. But, she saw that there were greater things for her, up the sky, traveling, seeing the rest of the universe with the military.

Traits: Outgoing and stubborn, average height, Lo is well liked around the local military base. She can be a moody, empathetic, emotional female, who on occasion, will spend time glancing at herself in the mirror--an object she tries to avoid due to religious preferences. Ah, yes, religion, with all due respect to all the races, she claims to be an "Eastern" Orthodox Christian. Although, her relations with the Church have been hurt due to her occupation, her Sunday mornings are spent participating in the Divine Liturgy. And of course, due to her short hair style--exemplifying her tomboy side, she wears a traditional headscarf to look a bit more traditional as opposed to her occupation.

Nightmare in Paradise

Appearance

]

Name: Jane Lowe
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Personality/History: Jane is cheeky but shy. She tends to bite more than she can chew, but in general, she means well--even when the dark spot on her soul tries to rock the boat of her spiritual life. Running as some candidate for next Canonized Orthodox Christian Saint, Jane can act in what may appear to be arbitrary manners, but in reality, she is trying her best to be the most pious she can be--and then she falls, stumbles, and finds herself in a deep dark hole of ecstasy and acid and -- suddenly, she is on a trip she can't escape. Jane had been trying so hard to be sober and clean, make new friends -- Church going, God-fearing, and prayer loving friends. She just could not get her spot into the group. She kept feeling more and more like an outsider until she found herself lamely hallucinating on a Saturday night, by herself, of course, as she was too embarrassed to "hook-up" with her old school druggie friends and only a crazy person would think to ask her Church friends. So, here she was, coming off of an acid trip, melting-face, falling asleep. . when in the morning, she's not home, anymore. Where is she? Is she still hallucinating? If so, it's been several days, now...
Open for romance: Yes
Sexuality: Heterosexual

Run and hide

The bids went higher on the slave. He leaned over, peering at the dirty creature behind bars. "$6,000, please." He stuck his hands in his pocket, a little nervous. The excitement of having a new slave made his heart race. He always loved them so much, so terribly much. Of course, the race war for bidding, winning something always seemed to fool his mind, like a young boy and candy. A small smile tucked over his lips.

Ooc: My mind does not care if James does not win the bid.

Run and hide

The town was crowded and busy. James silently weaves himself through the persons crowding the street, and examining the auction. He was above average in height, a height he wished were a bit taller. He peered over several heads, seeing cages of slaves, ready for ownership. He thought of the bartender as he scanned over the auction. His mind came back to the present moment.

He walked closer to have a better examination of the slaves. The voice of one caged slave caught his ear. He was dirty, gross. The quantity in first look appeared gruff and gross. . James did not like dirty thing, he liked pretty, delicate things. And the thing, the slave, in the cage. . had no bid on it.

His mind scanned through the slaves he had already owned, their fates. Did he really deserve anything better than dirt? But really, would he want to clean it up? Would he feel as bad if anything awful happened to it--him? James walked closer to the cage to get a better look.

Run and hide

Somewhere in the busy part of the town there sat some tavern. The tavern was nothing big, it was quaint and had a quiet riot of sounds emitting through the cracks of the door and windows. A sign hung from the roof, reading, "Tally's Tavern." Some creature, the owner, must have been Tally. Some slave, dressed in mock-barmaid clothes stood outside of the tavern, holding a menu. The slave seemed bored with a rusted smile forced on her face. She seemed content, though, rosy in cheek--a cup of something stood next to her feet, loyally, and full.

Inside the tavern, a bar was set towards the left wing, and several rooms were pushed upstairs for travelers. There were tables of different sizes scattered amongst the right wing. Chairs here, chairs there. The organization could have been better, but the customers seemed to come just before cleanliness could take place. By no means was the tavern dirty, just cluttered. The clutter had a condoling charm, however. And the drinks were good, well made, cherished with love.

Several slaves were running around taking order, making sure customers were continuously chummy.

James sat at the bar, taking to the bartender, discussing a whereabouts to find a new slave. Who sold good slaves? He wasn't as impressed with the one out front, but the smile had a quirk he couldn't quite shake. Maybe it was just slaves in general, he was hoping maybe someone would know a good creature that held slaves of good quality and habit. He was not exactly from the town, but to call him a new comer would be a bit rash. He had come by before and had been almost blessed with a good slave. He was hoping, yet, again, to be perhaps, find something of equal or more value.

The bartender told him about a slave auction happening, the whereabouts. James stared at his drink. He had not taken a sip. There was no need. Only out of politeness for the tavern's help did he purchase a commodity. He straightened his collar, standing up, thanking the bartender for his time, words, and advice. He started for the door, to take another walk through the town.