Grimoire Gaming

Spring Break- from Hell. {Closed- Not accepting any more Players}

Damn. I wanted drama that could break friendships. But, I'm evil like that. XD

Spring Break- from Hell. {Closed- Not accepting any more Players}

I'm on the chat if ya'll want to join and throw ideas around, though.

Spring Break- from Hell. {Closed- Not accepting any more Players}

Addy and Hunter should actually hook up! XD

Ink On Your Soul

Béatrix kept silent as the wolf spoke. She watched his every movement, the way he carried himself, her mind always calculating. In her line of work, you had to be hyperaware of your surroundings, and know exactly what kind of person you were dealing with. She was well aware of a werewolf’s abilities and, in a one-on-one fight, wolves were physically stronger, so she had to be clever and crafty to beat them. And clever and craft she was, although he pretty much gave himself away with his words, he practically wore his past as obviously as he wore his shirt. Of course she knew who he was, and now she knew how he was able to evade her for all these years; The fates had this sick little surprise in store for them instead of a simple seek and destroy.

“So shall we play this guessing name game, or not?” he asked her.

A dark grin settled upon her lips “Oh, does the Big Bad Wolf not like games?” she teased “How unfortunate, I love them.” She ended her circling so that she was now facing him once more. “Especially mind games.” Tholo was able to see that her lips didn’t move for that last sentence, he only heard her voice in his head. The shock in his eyes made her chuckle with sinful delight.

“Some of us bloodsuckers are reborn with gifts, mental manipulation is mine. With enough effort, perhaps I could even get you to sit, stay, and roll over.” He seemed pretty unamused, angry even. Hell, they were both pretty angry at their situation, but that didn’t make it any less real. She decided to throw him a bone (ha!) and spare him of the guessing game. “Wolfsbane.” She said. “Well, it’s Agent Wolfsbane now, I too have been trying to cut back on the killing, I only do it under the name of the law these days.” The burn in her wrist hadn’t ceased, she wondered what they had to do to make it stop. God, she hoped they didn’t have to kiss or something…

Ink On Your Soul

Working on a post now. :3

Spring Break- from Hell. {Closed- Not accepting any more Players}

All we have to do is have everyone sort of… expand the night until the GM gets back. Kinda fillerish, but some drama can happen during that time that could be addressed the next day.

@Savi

I like where this is going... drama... yes... :]

Ink On Your Soul

Apparently, the wolf had keen eyesight, as he called her out on her shaking hands. “Plenty have tried to kill me, and they didn’t have trembling hands, so you better be the best damn marksman in the world if you are going to shoot me,” he said before crossing his arms, looking irritated. Béatrix growled deep in her throat as her fangs extended in aggression. She would show him that she was indeed, the most deadly markswoman in the world. With squinted eyes, she steadied her aim dead center over his heart and squeezed the trigger. Except, she didn’t squeeze it, it was like some unseen force was preventing the trigger from depressing and firing the gun. Maybe it was physically impossible to kill your own soulmate? Figures. Trixy lowered her guns and smirked slightly, despite her frustration. If she couldn’t kill him, that meant he couldn’t kill her either.

Béatrix took a few steps towards him and began circling him like a shark would its prey. “You don’t even know who I am, do you?” her voice was low and teasing, the French accent making it sound more sultry than intended. “I assume the name on your wrist is my birth name, but that’s not the one your people know me by.” Wolfsbane, a name known in all of the far corners of the world, sometimes spoken of as only a myth, sometimes in pure terror. She was to the wolves what Van Helsing was to the vampires. In the past five centuries, her body count had reached the thousands, so why couldn’t she just add this one to the pile? What did she do to deserve this punishment, was losing Francis not enough?

“So this isn’t some sick joke after all, or a dream. Only thing I can think of is it’s punishment.” he said, as if he was voicing her own thoughts. Maybe they were soul mates after all, as unlikely as that seemed at the moment. Trixy holstered her guns once more, no use holding them if she couldn’t use them against him. With her left thumb and index finger, she unwound the black bindings from her wrist, letting the ribbons flutter to the ground gracefully, and revealing the blue glowing tattoo on her wrist. “I couldn’t agree more,” she looked down to read his name for the first time in decades “Bartholomew.” What a hideous name… she thought to herself.

Ink On Your Soul

Trixy never ran as a human; That kind of thing wasn’t really appropriate, given what women wore at the time. Even with that being so, her false breathing came heavy, as if her long-dead lungs were struggling for oxygen in the sprint. Breathing was something vampires taught themselves to do, so they could blend in with the living. Generally, the breaths didn’t change the pace; the timing of it was something subconsciously measured. Maybe this was something more… fear? Anxiety? Well, it didn’t really matter, she didn’t have to face it now. She’d met him, however brief, and it was on the date written, so, prophecy fulfilled! No need for any of that mushy soul mate nonsense, right? And that’s when she heard them: the heavy footfalls gaining ground behind her.

Oh no, he was chasing her. He was fast enough to chase a vampire, hell, he fast enough to catch up with one! Trixy’s bright blue eyes widened and she sniffed in a deep inhale. Her nose scrunched up in disgust, how had she missed that stench? He was a werewolf, oh gods, what if he was English too? Béatrix went through her options in her head as she ran, and one thing was clear: she couldn’t keep running. Werewolves were faster than vampires, and he had her scent now. He'd catch her, or he'd find her. She could stop and try to weasel her way out of this using her beloved mind games, or she could just face fate, or… she could kill him.

Béatrix stopped dead in her tracks and spun on her heels. She once again wielded her glock 22, this time with a matching twin in her left hand. One’s good, two’s better, especially when dealing with wolves. Her steely blue eyes locked with his in a deadly blue glare. “Stop right there, dog, you are chasing a special agent of New York’s finest whose bullets are always laced with silver.” Her Old French accent was quite thick, despite the time she spent travelling and becoming fluent in multiple different languages. Vampires were seductive predators, and even though she was poised to kill, she was gorgeous in that femme fatale kind of way.

Staring directly at him now, there were some things she couldn't avoid. Like the urgent burning in her wrist, and the tattoo glowing bright through the bindings that covered it. And the way she felt her heart up in her ears, as if it still had a beat. Somehow this felt more intense than when she had first met Francis. Maybe that's because she was a human then? Vampires have stronger feelings, feelings that lasted forever. But that didn't mean she had to love this man. No, hate is a strong feeling too. Regardless, her hands weren't as steady as they usually were. To a very keen eye, it was obvious that the guns were tremoring in her fingers slightly.

Ink On Your Soul

Nice post, I'm currently writing another post, but I'll try to put up a reply before I go to bed. If not, in the morning! :]

Ink On Your Soul

This would be a correct assumption!