BurningCold

The Ordinary Mystical Academy

I've seen countless of this type of RP but maybe this one won't crash and burn like the rest. I am tentatively placing my interest here.

The World of Blood Compact

@Wraithblade6 Am I being daft?

The World of Blood Compact

@Wraithblade6 James is supposed to keep an eye on Mithias and generally disrupt Soldier activities. I'm just not sure where Hank and her daughter are.

The Elder Scrolls: V - Province Under Chaos

Good, one less Stormcloak scum to deal with. Sorry to hear that he's gone.

The World of Blood Compact

@Wraithblade6 Aren't they still in the UK? Or did I misread something? I could potentially have some MI6 agents help her out so James can have a new pawn.

War Never Changes

Kane

Colored Edition Coming Soon

Name:
Kane Abellian

Age:
24

Gender:
Male

Bio:
A baby cries. It’s you. Mom smiles. She pats your back, calls you her dear little boy. Tears cease. Dad pulls you away. Comfort lost. This is his first time looking at you. He gives you that strange half smile. The first of many. He says you’re a bit small. Don’t worry, you’ll grow.

Swing. Crack. Whoosh. Sweat drips as you run. Third plate. Not bad. You look at Dad in the bleachers. Half smile. You see his eyes though. You know he’s proud. Shining stars. Not small anymore. Tall, athletic. A model baseball player. You win the game for your team. Good job.

Snow falls. Wind blows. Laughter in the kitchen. Your family invited the neighbors over to celebrate. Everyone loves Christmas. You’re not with them though. No. You’re in your bedroom. With a girl. She has her hands on her hips, standing in front of the door. It’s closed. Well? You see that look in her eye. She’s annoyed. She’s waiting. Gulp. You shuffle over to her. Now! You stand on your tippy toes to get closer. She’s two years older. You kiss her gently. You should see your face. Red as a rose. She smirks. This time, she kisses you. She leans down. Her lips are soft.

She moved away today. The kiss goodbye was tender, sweet. You gazed into her eyes for one last time. Not lovingly. No, you’re far too young for that. But adoration? Absolutely. You feel a bit down, but you’re strong. Don’t worry champ. She was only the first of many.

Dad didn’t come home today. Again. You remember the last time you saw him. Clear as day. He wordlessly kissed your forehead, tussled your hair, and walked out the door. Mom got drunk today. Again. You remember the last time she beat you. Clear as day. How could you forget? It was only a few hours ago. You lay crying softly in your bed, clutching the photo as you always do. That photo of you. With Mom and Dad. Smiling. Stupid child. Something inside of you begins to burn. Wildfire spreads. You’re angry. You walk into Mom’s room. There’s no need to be afraid, the alcohol knocked her out a while ago. You find Dad’s lighter. Same spot it’s always been in. Grab the lighter. Shuffling feet. Let the fire cleanse. Embers engulf you, and Mom, and Dad. Smiling. The ashes of that picture tumble into oblivion.

Swing. Crack. Groan. Sweat drips as you try to scurry away. Mom is strong though. Quick too. Hands grabbing. Child struggling. When she’s finished, you’re in pain. Bruised. Bleeding. You look at her face. Fury. Heavy breathing. Contempt. Happy birthday.

A voice screams. It’s Mom. You smile. You drive the kitchen knife further into her chest, and call her a bitch. Tears begin to fall. The screamings cease, and her lifeforce pulls away. This is your last time looking at her. The fire engulfs the house in mere minutes. You’re already out the door. She was your first victim. The first of many. You’re a bit rusty. Don’t worry, you’ll grow.

Chomp. Salt. Ketchup. Cheese. Beef. It’s a good burger. You’ve been wandering for about a year now. Don’t fear. No one is looking. The fire burned everything. You are a dead man. A clever man. Then you spy her. Cute short hair. Legs up to here. Low cut top. You walk over. Chat her up. Twirling hair. Nervous laughter. She wants you. That night, she gets you. You skip town the next morning. Better this way.

Warm and slick. Blood. Ridiculous. He should have given up the wallet. You need the money more than he does. It doesn’t matter now. One hundred bucks. A good haul. You rise. Rain falls. Pitter patter. Pitter patter.

The bombs fell today. Boom. Chaos. Music to your ears. To some the bombs mean death. To you they mean freedom.

You grin. Predatory. The man cowers at your feet. Whoosh. Crack. The kick hits him square in the jaw. He falls onto his back. Raise the gun. He begs for mercy. Cock it. He’s crying now. Squeeze the trigger. The man never gets the chance to close his eyes. Dead. You find your employer later. This job pays well.

You’re right at home in the Blood Army. Killers for hire. Plenty of people that ought to be dead. Plenty of money. Blood and money. That’s all the world is. You think it’s a good world. The way things should be.

You were in over your head. He had too much protection. You were too tired. You should have turned back. Now blood drains from the spot your arm used to be. Good job. Stupid. You remember things. A half smile. Soft lips. Fire. Pain. Revenge. A good burger. Rough sex. Murder. Freedom. The Blood Army. The contract. Foolishness. Failure. Anger. You struggle to your feet. Gasoline all over. Shoot. Boom. Fire. Limp over. Cauterize. Scream.

Alone again. Naturally. Your lips twinge into a smirk. You’re not funny. Time to get a move on. You’re itching for a new kill.

Personality:
Kane is selfish and seldom acts out of kindness alone. If he’s helping someone, do not doubt that he is getting something out of it. While he can act polite, even charming, it’s all a facade. Kane is a monster in man’s skin.

Gear:
-Weapon 1:

My Hider

An S&W .500 revolver
-Weapon 2: (as depicted in image)
A metal pipe with a railway spike hammered through it, quite dangerous when in Kane’s hands.
-Clothing: Shown in picture
-Items: A harmonica
Role:
Kane is an ex Blood Army soldier that now operates as an independent mercenary.

War Never Changes

This was already approved in a PM but I'll just put it here for formalities sake before adding it to the CS.

Kane

Colored Edition Coming Soon

Name:
Kane Abellian

Age:
24

Gender:
Male

Bio:
A baby cries. It’s you. Mom smiles. She pats your back, calls you her dear little boy. Tears cease. Dad pulls you away. Comfort lost. This is his first time looking at you. He gives you that strange half smile. The first of many. He says you’re a bit small. Don’t worry, you’ll grow.

Swing. Crack. Whoosh. Sweat drips as you run. Third plate. Not bad. You look at Dad in the bleachers. Half smile. You see his eyes though. You know he’s proud. Shining stars. Not small anymore. Tall, athletic. A model baseball player. You win the game for your team. Good job.

Snow falls. Wind blows. Laughter in the kitchen. Your family invited the neighbors over to celebrate. Everyone loves Christmas. You’re not with them though. No. You’re in your bedroom. With a girl. She has her hands on her hips, standing in front of the door. It’s closed. Well? You see that look in her eye. She’s annoyed. She’s waiting. Gulp. You shuffle over to her. Now! You stand on your tippy toes to get closer. She’s two years older. You kiss her gently. You should see your face. Red as a rose. She smirks. This time, she kisses you. She leans down. Her lips are soft.

She moved away today. The kiss goodbye was tender, sweet. You gazed into her eyes for one last time. Not lovingly. No, you’re far too young for that. But adoration? Absolutely. You feel a bit down, but you’re strong. Don’t worry champ. She was only the first of many.

Dad didn’t come home today. Again. You remember the last time you saw him. Clear as day. He wordlessly kissed your forehead, tussled your hair, and walked out the door. Mom got drunk today. Again. You remember the last time she beat you. Clear as day. How could you forget? It was only a few hours ago. You lay crying softly in your bed, clutching the photo as you always do. That photo of you. With Mom and Dad. Smiling. Stupid child. Something inside of you begins to burn. Wildfire spreads. You’re angry. You walk into Mom’s room. There’s no need to be afraid, the alcohol knocked her out a while ago. You find Dad’s lighter. Same spot it’s always been in. Grab the lighter. Shuffling feet. Let the fire cleanse. Embers engulf you, and Mom, and Dad. Smiling. The ashes of that picture tumble into oblivion.

Swing. Crack. Groan. Sweat drips as you try to scurry away. Mom is strong though. Quick too. Hands grabbing. Child struggling. When she’s finished, you’re in pain. Bruised. Bleeding. You look at her face. Fury. Heavy breathing. Contempt. Happy birthday.

A voice screams. It’s Mom. You smile. You drive the kitchen knife further into her chest, and call her a bitch. Tears begin to fall. The screamings cease, and her lifeforce pulls away. This is your last time looking at her. The fire engulfs the house in mere minutes. You’re already out the door. She was your first victim. The first of many. You’re a bit rusty. Don’t worry, you’ll grow.

Chomp. Salt. Ketchup. Cheese. Beef. It’s a good burger. You’ve been wandering for about a year now. Don’t fear. No one is looking. The fire burned everything. You are a dead man. A clever man. Then you spy her. Cute short hair. Legs up to here. Low cut top. You walk over. Chat her up. Twirling hair. Nervous laughter. She wants you. That night, she gets you. You skip town the next morning. Better this way.

Warm and slick. Blood. Ridiculous. He should have given up the wallet. You need the money more than he does. It doesn’t matter now. One hundred bucks. A good haul. You rise. Rain falls. Pitter patter. Pitter patter.

The bombs fell today. Boom. Chaos. Music to your ears. To some the bombs mean death. To you they mean freedom.

You grin. Predatory. The man cowers at your feet. Whoosh. Crack. The kick hits him square in the jaw. He falls onto his back. Raise the gun. He begs for mercy. Cock it. He’s crying now. Squeeze the trigger. The man never gets the chance to close his eyes. Dead. You find your employer later. This job pays well.

You’re right at home in the Blood Army. Killers for hire. Plenty of people that ought to be dead. Plenty of money. Blood and money. That’s all the world is. You think it’s a good world. The way things should be.

You were in over your head. He had too much protection. You were too tired. You should have turned back. Now blood drains from the spot your arm used to be. Good job. Stupid. You remember things. A half smile. Soft lips. Fire. Pain. Revenge. A good burger. Rough sex. Murder. Freedom. The Blood Army. The contract. Foolishness. Failure. Anger. You struggle to your feet. Gasoline all over. Shoot. Boom. Fire. Limp over. Cauterize. Scream.

Alone again. Naturally. Your lips twinge into a smirk. You’re not funny. Time to get a move on. You’re itching for a new kill.

Personality:
Kane is selfish and seldom acts out of kindness alone. If he’s helping someone, do not doubt that he is getting something out of it. While he can act polite, even charming, it’s all a facade. Kane is a monster in man’s skin.

Gear:
-Weapon 1:

My Hider

An S&W .500 revolver
-Weapon 2: (as depicted in image)
A metal pipe with a railway spike hammered through it, quite dangerous when in Kane’s hands.
-Clothing: Shown in picture
-Items: A harmonica
Role:
Kane is an ex Blood Army soldier that now operates as an independent mercenary.

The World of Blood Compact

@Kurai Assassin I think @Remipa Awesome's last post had Deon just kind of leave, though I'm not sure. Is this true?

The Elder Scrolls: V - Province Under Chaos

@Pirouette@Oni_@Garth@Kaiachi

Hey all... Uh... post and stuff.

The World of Blood Compact

Mattias nodded. These were the kinds of people he was interested in taking down. "Alright the-" The werewolf began to sniff at the air fervently, before stopping just as quickly. "Your Deon has left the building, I think. It would be wise to go after him now, if you want to take him out." It was hard to pick out what he believed was Deon's scent next to that club, which was full of all sorts of smells. "Really though. We need to act quickly before this mission ends up being a bust. We can handle some mortal crime lord and a blood sucker." He had no idea if they could handle some mortal crime lord and a blood sucker.