Grimoire Gaming

Ink On Your Soul

Tholo surprised her with how much he had to say. He seemed like the quiet, brooding type, but maybe she’d pegged him wrong. He mentioned the awkward hug and she didn’t give him the pleasure of reacting to his taunt. What did get a reaction from her, however, was when he spoke her language. She raised a brow, “So you can pronounce my name correctly, then. I expect you to do so from now on.” He mentioned his first soul mate, and something about that jarred her back into the realization that that’s what they were: Soul mates… regardless of their willingness to be such.

“Je suis sûr que nous nous rencontrerons de nouveau, malheureusement.” The French barb was quick and smooth from her tongue, polished off with a sly smile before she finally turned to walk away. Her thoughts were swarming and her feelings were all over the place. She was angry at Solenne for crossing the line that he had, upset that she hadn’t tracked down the rogue or gotten the information that she’d hope to gain from SoSo, mad that she was stuck paired to a werewolf that she couldn’t keep away from herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so burdened by her emotions, it was so… human.

This little date hadn’t gone at all like she’d wanted it to. She wanted to get the information, chat with an old friend, and even explore a bit of that passion they’d once shared. Anything to distract her, to make her forget… but wasn’t that always her M.O.? Just keep filling your life with things to do, people to see, and maybe you can forget about everything you lost, everything you’re losing…

Béatrix needed a break from the hustle and bustle of the city, and from herself, so she hopped on her ninja and headed back home. After parking the bike, Trixy pocketed the keys and walked to the front door. Checking her mail in the foyer, Trixy found a single parchment envelope in her mailbox. The very scent from the letter sent her back to the past, and the swirling script made her heart swell. It’d been so long.

As Béatrix walked the steps to her apartment, she eagerly unfolded the parchment, breaking the Council’s wax seal that her grandmother put on most of her letters. This wasn’t her human family, of course, but her vampiric grandmother of sorts: Francis’ sire. After closing the door gently behind her, Trixy sat at the kitchen table and devoted all her attention to beautiful script, written in her native tongue:

Granddaughter,

I hope this letter finds you well, though I fear it does not. I write to you because I felt your sorrow today, though when this letter reaches you, I suppose it will have been yesterday.

It has been so long since you have felt deeply enough for it to trigger my empathy from so many miles away, and then I realized what day it must be. My dear, it has been centuries since my son passed. And if Francis was alive to see you today, he would be so proud of the strong, independent woman you have become in his absence; but your deep well of sadness? Well, that would be enough to kill him all over again. He would want you to be happy, my darling, as I want you to be happy. Whoever this gentleman may be, he doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you. Don’t be so pained by the opportunity to find love again, you deserve all of the happiness this world has to offer.

Scotland is so beautiful this time of year, you should visit me. Even though I have no plans of dying anytime soon, you know that my seat on the council will belong to you some day, it would do you some good to meet the other elders. Either way, don’t hesitate to write me back, you know how much I hate those phone devices.

With all my love,
Frida

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

That's no big deal, I work those hours most days anyway! :]

Ink On Your Soul

Shall I post, or wait longer for another post or two? hmm...

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

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

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

Jareth leaned up against the wall for support and braced himself for whatever she had to say. At least it was easier to breathe out here but, ironically enough, he’d kill for a smoke right about then. ”I’m not going to blame you this time around.” she began, which caused him to raise an eyebrow and look up at her. Little Adelisa was just full of surprises, wasn’t she? She went on to talk about how some people aren’t right for each other, how they shouldn’t try getting back together, and he couldn’t help but think that the words were more for herself than for him.

Jar nodded his head “Yeah, I know, that’s why I --- we? Uhh…” Jar struggled for words and looked down at the ground awkwardly. Suddenly the tiled floor had become so fascinating, but not really. He looked back up “That’s why things ended between us, before it went too far. We didn’t even sleep together.” The wide-eyed look of shock she gave him made him back-pedal a little. “Oh, sorry, TMI probably.” He gave her a nervous smile and ran his fingers through his hair. Why was she making him so nervous? It was probably because the topic was uncomfortable… and definitely not because of the way her dark eyeliner contrasted her brilliant blue eyes, or because of how easy it was to see himself in her. No, definitely not that.

“I still want to be civil with her but, she can be hard to deal with if you’re on her bad side. Hell, she was hard to deal with when I was on her good side.” Jar let out soft sigh before looking up at her with sadness in his eyes. “I’ll do my best to steer clear of her if she does stay, I promise. But I don’t think you will be able to convince her to stay if she has her head set on leaving.” His look turned thoughtful, yet still stricken with grief. “When you talk to her, can you tell her that I didn’t mean it when I said it was a mistake. It wasn’t a mistake, being with her taught me a lot about the world, about myself, even. It was a learning experience, but I think we both know, deep down, that we weren’t meant to be. That we both deserve someone better,” his eyes met hers once more “someone more like ourselves.” His gaze lingered a bit longer than it probably should have, but perhaps not enough for her to notice.

Lords of the Underword

Maya gripped the gun so tight that her knuckles were white as she stepped outside. The sight of the angels was awe-inspiring, but not in a good way like one would expect. Instead of being beautiful and cherubic, as angels were often depicted, these were ugly terrifying things, some even had multiple tongues, and arms. Before Maya could truly gather herself, one of the angels bee-lined right for her. Why her? "Not you! She's coming for me, silly! This angel doesn't like me much. Let's shoot her." With uncertain hands, Maya rose the gun in self defense. After some awkward panicking, she manage to actually fire the weapon, missing the first few shots before her aim improved. The last couple of bullets clipped an arm, a leg, and it's shoulder before the tell-tale clink of an empty chamber sounded. Panicking again, as the angel was still rapidly coming towards her, Maya backed up until she was pressed against the wall and kept pulling the trigger of the unloaded gun. "Reload, you dummy! The ammunition in your belt!" Right, of course, how could she forget something like that. Maya's trembling fingers grasped a clip and pulled it from her belt, but her fingers were shaking so badly that she couldn't manage to get the clip in.

It was too late, this was how she was going to die: backed up against a Scotish castle wall, cowering in fear from a supposedly 'holy' creature before it gutted her. Maya closed her eyes tight in fear, falling into a state of acceptance that this was the end. "I'm not going to let you die." This time, Nightmares' voice wasn't only in her head, but spoken aloud through her own lips. And when Maya opened her eyes, they were no longer her own, instead the irises glowed a purple so dark it was nearly black. With a growl, Nightmares cast a terrifying illusion in front of Maya in the image of three huge hell hounds that barked and snarled at the angel. They weren't real, of course, and they couldn't actually harm the angel, but even the sight of a creature from hell was enough to make the angel back up, giving Nightmares enough time to reload the gun and fire a few bullets straight into the chest of the angel. "Sweet dreams, dearie." Nightmares said with an evil giggle.

Lords of the Underword

Yes it is! If you read about his demon, it makes sense, plus characters, like humans, come in all different shapes and sizes. I would imagine the character is either homosexual or bisexual as well. Actually, I imagine promiscuity wouldn't care which gender another identified with, so probably pansexual?

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

I mean, bums might be involved. Ahaha XD

Ink On Your Soul

I don't know if you guys are like me and think about your OCs all the time, but Trixy is one of my favorites, so I do! :p But yeah. that Solenne post reflecting upon Trixy's more emotional years reminded me of one of her 'theme songs': https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9FxjMdxTwag

I'd love to hear some of your guys' OC's theme songs if you have them! I feel like they can help others get to know your character a just a little bit more. :3