Katelyn Member
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Jerkchicken
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I've not seen Brazil or Australia, but the USA just pulled the first gold metal of the season. :)
The last time I saw her she was walking through a trail of red battenlillies, her long blonde hair tied into a braid of sorts. Something a servant had to have done because I wasn’t able to create such beauty. Everything I touch died before my eyes. She was no different. The hot winds of summer blew all around us and the days lasted forever as if we didn’t have anything but time on our hands. I reached out and pulled softly at her hair, a smile my prize.
The fourth sun of Darium began to set, the sky birthing crimson and burnt orange bliss as it displayed the glory of the gods for all to witness. Just below my shadow sat a lonely yellow flower, its wings spread out as if crying for attention in the sea of red. A smile touched my pale pink lips as I bent over to rescue the beauty from being lost. I plucked it as the sun pulled off the horizon, the last one left moving quickly to join its brethren. I jogged to catch up to her, pulling ahead and maneuvering my smaller body in front of her to reach up and slip the yellow flower into her golden locks. She laughed and ran ahead, slowing only upon noticing my refusal to move forward.
Something caught my eye and I stopped for only a moment to watch the clouds part. Darkness tugged at the edge of our world in way that I’d never seen. I looked up to watch her walk toward it, a picture of beauty and elegance. I screamed for her to stop and yet I could move not a muscle within my petite frame to stop the impending doom. She never once turned around as I unraveled with horror at the picturesque sight before me.
And then she was gone – forever.
~ A fantasy adventure of sorts. I plan to play a fae princess that is sent to recover the queen, her mother and whomever you decide to play would be her partner on the journey. High fantasy on this one.
You just do what you do and we'll be great. Take your time and know that I'm in no hurry or rush at all! I know you need sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!
Laughs and shakes her head. Amusing, interesting and a bit challenging. Good luck, buddy. *cheers for you*
Name: Elle Martin
Age: 26
Age: 26
Her cough was rather insignificant, but crimson staining the white cloth she held to her colorless lips spoke volumes of the unseen. She cringed at the sight of it, but wadded up the napkin and continued walking into the foggy winter night, her fingers wrapping around the collar of her wool jacket, pulling it in as close as possible to gleam some semblance of warmth to her shivering petite frame. Cholera had swept the nation, its icy cold reprieve not a respecter of person nor wealth, age nor status. She shook her head and reached quickly into her pocket as the small cough echoed around her, the taste of metal stinging her tongue.
She contracted the disease a few weeks earlier when her older brother, Jamison took her with him on a mission of sorts. He was a man of the cloth, as was her father and as such, their family often times were to be found with the poor, the hungry, the least and the sick. They’d taken vaccines put out by the Roman Catholic Church, but hers had obviously been less than effective. Her family knew not of her condition and she did her best to hide it from them, staying away until late in the evening and rising early in the morning.
Her situation was quite without resolution and yet she couldn’t help but carry on each day as if nothing were wrong. There was very little time left now that she was coughing the color of death with every other painful breath, but she had a few things left to do. She shivered again as the bellman held the door for her, the quaint bed and breakfast one that her father used to bring them too when she was a little girl, the courtyard filled with small birds each morning that they’d all take turns terrorizing. A smile touched her lips, yet didn’t reach her sea-green gaze.
“Evening, Miss.” The bellman moved to open the door further, a smile on his portly face, the warmth of the inn rushing out to greet her.
She smiled back and licked at her lip, worried of the evidence that would have her turned away for good from anyone trying to remain present in the folds of humanity. She shouldn’t have been there anyways. This disease was one that traveled via the molecules of air that slipped from her lips and into someone else’s waiting unawareness. She turned her face from him and tucked it further into the protection of her coat, her shivers giving him a sense that she was just chilled to the bone. Elle walked to the small room, last door on the left at the end of the hall and slipped her small silver key from her pocket, opening the door and locking it behind herself.
She shrugged off her coat, her long chestnut locks swinging around her as she moved, dancing as if trying to gain her attention. She brushed her cold, bony fingers through the silky locks and pulled them from her face, stopping to stare into the mirror, a frown touching her once beautiful face. She’d yet to reach twenty and looked forty because of the disease eating her very essence deep in the pit of her chest. Her once rosy cheeks were sunken in, dark circles raced around her eyes, dimming the dulled picture of a life once lived. She licked her lips again and reached for the cloth, bending over a little as the next cough racked her small frame, a whimper rushing from her bloody mouth. Her white satin gown hung around her shoulders and concaved in places it shouldn’t, on parts of her that used to be full and curvaceous, but that time had passed.
“No,” she whispered, knowing that she needed to leave them letters, to tell them how much she loved them and what they meant to her. She needed to leave him a letter telling him the truth that he deserved to know, the answers he’d always waited patiently for. She wiped her mouth and steeled her resolved. She would not slip into death’s strong embrace until she’d finished accomplishing all that was left to accomplish.
She opened a large window near the kitchen table letting the coolness of night flood the room, her eyes moving across the shadows and wishing for only a moment that she were one of them. If she could be anyone but herself… Something moved in the distance, but she brushed it off, turned and walked to her small desk. Tonight would be the last night of her existence and she didn’t want to leave without a word uttered endlessly in the human experience – goodbye.
She contracted the disease a few weeks earlier when her older brother, Jamison took her with him on a mission of sorts. He was a man of the cloth, as was her father and as such, their family often times were to be found with the poor, the hungry, the least and the sick. They’d taken vaccines put out by the Roman Catholic Church, but hers had obviously been less than effective. Her family knew not of her condition and she did her best to hide it from them, staying away until late in the evening and rising early in the morning.
Her situation was quite without resolution and yet she couldn’t help but carry on each day as if nothing were wrong. There was very little time left now that she was coughing the color of death with every other painful breath, but she had a few things left to do. She shivered again as the bellman held the door for her, the quaint bed and breakfast one that her father used to bring them too when she was a little girl, the courtyard filled with small birds each morning that they’d all take turns terrorizing. A smile touched her lips, yet didn’t reach her sea-green gaze.
“Evening, Miss.” The bellman moved to open the door further, a smile on his portly face, the warmth of the inn rushing out to greet her.
She smiled back and licked at her lip, worried of the evidence that would have her turned away for good from anyone trying to remain present in the folds of humanity. She shouldn’t have been there anyways. This disease was one that traveled via the molecules of air that slipped from her lips and into someone else’s waiting unawareness. She turned her face from him and tucked it further into the protection of her coat, her shivers giving him a sense that she was just chilled to the bone. Elle walked to the small room, last door on the left at the end of the hall and slipped her small silver key from her pocket, opening the door and locking it behind herself.
She shrugged off her coat, her long chestnut locks swinging around her as she moved, dancing as if trying to gain her attention. She brushed her cold, bony fingers through the silky locks and pulled them from her face, stopping to stare into the mirror, a frown touching her once beautiful face. She’d yet to reach twenty and looked forty because of the disease eating her very essence deep in the pit of her chest. Her once rosy cheeks were sunken in, dark circles raced around her eyes, dimming the dulled picture of a life once lived. She licked her lips again and reached for the cloth, bending over a little as the next cough racked her small frame, a whimper rushing from her bloody mouth. Her white satin gown hung around her shoulders and concaved in places it shouldn’t, on parts of her that used to be full and curvaceous, but that time had passed.
“No,” she whispered, knowing that she needed to leave them letters, to tell them how much she loved them and what they meant to her. She needed to leave him a letter telling him the truth that he deserved to know, the answers he’d always waited patiently for. She wiped her mouth and steeled her resolved. She would not slip into death’s strong embrace until she’d finished accomplishing all that was left to accomplish.
She opened a large window near the kitchen table letting the coolness of night flood the room, her eyes moving across the shadows and wishing for only a moment that she were one of them. If she could be anyone but herself… Something moved in the distance, but she brushed it off, turned and walked to her small desk. Tonight would be the last night of her existence and she didn’t want to leave without a word uttered endlessly in the human experience – goodbye.
Love him... he's perfect. He looks withdrawn and lost to his own world. I'll work on my CS shortly and post up my original post in the IC. I dreamt this one up a few months ago and wrote the opening scene for her.
We'll start with her dying and him catching the smell or word of it - or whatever you want... her death - his changing her and then we'll plot in here to see what adventure we hit up next. :)
We'll start with her dying and him catching the smell or word of it - or whatever you want... her death - his changing her and then we'll plot in here to see what adventure we hit up next. :)
Most people loose a few moving from the interest check to the OOC, so a good count will come once you get the OOC up. You'll be good, we're here to help. :)
I'm yearning for a vampire story that brings out all of the incredible emotion that must be experienced by such a powerful, ancient, sexual creature. I've not completely plotted this one out, but I'm looking for a partner that can help me spin and create the story, whatever it might be.
Just know that my vamp won't be sweet or loving at first - or in the middle. I play mine very aggressive and uncaring as well - old school completely. I was thinking that the vamp that gets killed in the beginning would be her brother and that is why she's in a state to actually bite and kill someone. Let's make sure we set up the story to include a few monologues so that we can establish their lives apart, whether you want me to play the fiance and my vamp and you play your guy and my vamps brother (who does drink human blood and is destined to take over the covenant)...
Name: Isabella Vonti
Age: 748
Appearance
Other Information: She is the daughter of the High Vampire Coven Leader and although she's being groomed to take over, she rather hates the idea of doing it. She's rather humane and only gets upset or highly emotional with things that deal with her younger blood brother, Jack. Other than that she spends most of her time looking and feeling rather apathetic.
Name: Jack Vonti
Age: 438
Appearance:
Other: Jack very much wants to please his father and is rather viscous in nature with everyone but his older sister Izzy. Namely because she'd most likely maul him and he'd rather not test the limits of her strength or patience.
Alright... I will re-read all this brilliance, that is you, and respond to everything this evening or tomorrow at the latest. I'm going to look for a few pictures as well. I love your thoughts and just need to add in my own. When my sisters kids get out of here I can think straight without hearing, "Aunt Kate" for the 10,000th time. :P
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