Kingfisher

Vampire: The Masquerade. Dance of the Damned

Zed said
I'd be down with that.

Seconded

Game of Thrones - A Song of Ice and Fire

Sini said
Gruesome.

Glad to see it had the intended effect :P

Game of Thrones - A Song of Ice and Fire

Done my introductory post for House Bolton. I shall start work on a second one at some point.

Game of Thrones - A Song of Ice and Fire

The Bloody Lullaby cut calmly through the vicious dim waters, waves of murky blue battering against the sides of the ship’s colossal hull. A heavy downpour of rain pelted the vessel, drenching the deck’s wooden planks, and smattering against its sail.

A distant crack of thunder lit up the clouded sky in a display of potent fury, before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind a perpetual grey gloom.

Whispering winds gently rocked the ship, whistling past in silent streaks, as blasts of salty seawater spilled over the ship’s gunwale.

The Bloody Lullaby was truly a sight to behold; a hull of dark wood wrought together with shimmering metal, a towering mast with sails of bright crimson upon a field of deep black, and a bulky yet sleek design.

Amidst rain and sea and storm, the ship pressed onwards, being gently rocked back and forth by the elemental bombardment of wind and water.

A loud thudding awoke Ravette Bolton from her sleep, which she deduced to be the sound of a fist hammering against her cabin door.

The cabin in which she resided was confined and cramped, with only a hammock and a small wooden desk to occupy it. The cabin’s lone candle was currently unlit, and no single ray of light entered the room, not even managing to straggle in through a crack in the wall. Ravette preferred the darkness to the light, and had developed excellent night vision because of this, doing most of her pirating whilst the rest of the world lay sleeping and vulnerable.

However, to Ravette’s knowledge, it was not currently night-time, and the sudden awakening was most unwelcome.

Her vision was blurry and her head pounded, which the loud banging at the door was doing little to ease. Her raven hair fell in messy clumps around her shoulders, hard and knotted from having been slept on.

She stumbled, weary eyed, from her worn out hammock, shambling across the stiff floorboards as she made her way to the door.

Ravette gently creaked open the door, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the lamp-lit corridor, to be greeted by Gap-tooth Gariss, looking an awful lot more awake than she felt.

He beamed at her through the gaped teeth for which he got his name, looking mighty please with himself.

“Afternoon, Cap’n.”

She hissed fiercely at him, grabbing hold of his leathery hand and yanking him inside the dark cabin, slamming the door behind him as she did so.

“What in the seven hells do you want?!” She seethed, fixing him with bloodshot eyes.

Gariss could not see her in the lightless room, but the sheer venom in her voice made her lack of appreciation for being so abruptly woken evident.

“A-apologies for the interruption, Cap’n” He stammered, gazing roughly into the area where he had heard her voice come from. “But I spotted somethin’ I thought might interest you.”

“What?! She fumed through clenched teeth, futilely attempting to keep the strained rage from her tone.

“A M-merchant vessel on the h-horizon, Cap’n; Looks to be from the Free Cities.”

Ravette unclenched her fists, and a slick smile spread across her likeness, bolstered by the wicked scars that ran along her cheeks, forming a distorted smirk that covered a great portion of her face.

“Make sure the men are ready,” She instructed, the prospect of plunder dominating her thoughts “I’ll meet you out on the deck.”

Gariss soon scurried from the room, to do as she had bid him, leaving Ravette to clothe and prepare herself.

Ravette fished her attire up off of a heap on the floor, sliding into her tunic, and fastening her breeches around her waist with a chord of hempen rope. She scrambled into her dark leather boots, placing a pasty white foot in each.

Her gloves and cloak were a frayed yellowish brown in colouring, with her own mismatched needlework having patched them together.

Farlen Reensworth, cabin boy of the Lady Erena she thought, as she pulled the gloves down over her pasty white hands, taking some satisfaction from feeling them rub against her own flesh.

Erryk and Emmon Pyke, Gawen Rivers, Rollard Redmane, and One-eyed Duncan Farring She mused inwardly, as she slung the ragged cloak over her shoulders, fastening it to her tunic with pins of tarnished brass.

She unhooked Bloodletter from a peg on the wall, sliding the gleaming blade into its scabbard, one lithe hand coiled around the rawhide grip.

She joined her men up top, the motley crew drenched through and through by the still persisting downpour of rain, awaiting her in a shambled line.

Ravette gazed out into the blue-grey sea, spotting a fat cargo ship with furled sails drifting uneasily nearby.

“There’s our target!” She exclaimed, having to battle over the sound of the rainfall to be heard, one outstretched hand pointing at the vessel, that slick smile creeping across her features once more. “What say we go raid some southrons?”

A cheer went up from her crew, their weapons raised above their heads, gleaming dimly as rainwater ran off of their metal blades.

By now, Ravette’s previously knotted hair had become dank and soggy, plastered to her head by the ceaseless downpour.

She yanked the cloak’s hood up over her head, a waif-like faced, blotched and pale, blocking out the rain, the mouth and eyeholes having been sewn shut.

She inwardly thanked Emmon Pyke for providing her with his likeness, so that she might shield herself from unsavoury weather, and remain warm in the long years of winter.

It did not take long for the Bloody Lullaby to cut across the murky waters, swaying in next to the merchant’s ship.

It was a fairly compact vessel, seemingly fashioned from oak, with square rigging and unadorned sails. Intricately crafted, and painted in a smattering of bright colours, it was certainly a pretty little boat, but looked to be lacking in ways of defence, with only a few sellswords littering the deck.

The Lullaby’s ram, an armoured beak of painted black metal, battered into the side of the vessel, tearing through its hull, and sending a burst of immense wooden splinters spraying through the air. A chunk of the boat fell away into the Narrow Sea, landing with a mighty ‘SPLASH!’, and the sheer force of the assault knocked a few of the vessel’s inhabitants off of their feet.

Ravette was the first to board, screeching like a banshee, Bloodletter raised above her head, the stitched together face of Emmon Pyke concealing her own visage.

She leaped from the Bloody Lullaby’s deck, landing on the Merchant vessel with a definite ‘THUD!’, sending off a spray of rainwater that had congealed beneath her feet.

A mercenary, clad in light scale mail, was quick to meet her, but the sheer force with which she came down on him sent him staggering back across the deck. He moved to parry her attacks, but was too slow, and soon his head went rolling across the deck, blood spraying from the stump of his neck, streaks of crimson mixing with the rainwater.

The wind sent her skin-cloak wafting behind her, and the face that formed her hood, contorted in a permanent grimace, with its stitched grin and its sealed eyeholes, sent men recoiling backwards, gapping in horror at the beast that stood before them.

“You would let a single little girl frighten you?!” Barked one of the sellswords, surrounded by men who clutched swords and shields and spears.

Ravette grinned, running her slender tongue through the gapping chasms in her cheeks, showing of rows of needle-like teeth. She raised her hand and bid the mercenaries to come and face her, purring like a jungle cat all the while.

The sellswords rushed towards her, but even now she could smell the fear that gripped their bodies, could test the terror lingered in the air.

She swung left, Bloodletter biting into the chest of a man who had not raised his shield in time, before blocking the cold steel of another man’s sword, mid-swing. She forced him backwards with bestial might, before slicing though his shoulder, leaving him to die in a pool of his own fluids, thrashing about on the deck like a sickly mule. A third man rushed her, but she simply ducked below his swing, slashing him in two whilst he was vulnerable.

Soon, her men came vaulting down behind her, raining arrows and steel onto their enemies. The battle did not last long.

Broken bodies littered the deck, and dismembered limbs were scattered about the place. Ravette had her men bind the merchant’s wrists, and gather them at the centre of the ship. They knelt before her, quivering in fear, dressed in expensive silk and rich finery.

She spun on her heel, turning to address Pale Lorimier, who was using a knife to pick at the grime beneath his finger nails.

“Scavenge all that you can from below decks, and then put the ship to the torch.” She instructed him. They had done too much damage to the vessel when they had rammed it, and it would be more trouble than it was worth in its broken state.

She turned back towards the merchant, smirking at the ripe terror that was in their eyes, as they awaited their fates.

That night the crew of the Blood Lullaby feasted on meat which was soft and sweet, and when the morning came they still had plenty to fill their larders.

When they next came into port, they sold off all of the goods that the merchants had been carrying, and made a pretty penny for all the expensive silk clothing that they had acquired.

Game of Thrones - A Song of Ice and Fire

Sini said
Updated the roster in the opening post - influx in the Vale and the North.

Cheers :) I'll get working on a introductory post for House Bolton.

Game of Thrones - A Song of Ice and Fire

Squrmy said
Does anyone have any feedback for my House Royce?

Speaking of which; is there any chance that I could get a response on my House Bolton application?

Vampire: The Masquerade. Dance of the Damned

Next Sleepwalker post is up. Nothing spectacular; just me clearing up some loose ends from the last one

I'll probably do another Sabbat post next, then something involving my Nosferatu.

Vampire: The Masquerade. Dance of the Damned

The Sleepwalker was used to a fairly bustling clientele-the mixture of live performances by their very own Madeline Hollinghurst, and relaxed atmosphere, being quite attractive to those looking to get off of the streets come nightfall-on the other hand, tonight there was no more than a handful of patrons scattered about the establishment’s tables.

Throughout the late afternoon, Zaylee remained behind the counter, occasionally serving the odd straggler. However, the evening became a great deal more interesting when a heavyset gentleman in a trench coat found his way into the bar, pulling up a stool and seating himself at the counter.

He had a neatly cropped beard, sandy blonde hair, glassy blue eyes, and a slick smile.

“What can I get you?” The Vampress inquired, disinterestedly running one finger through her black-red hair.

“I’m looking for some answers.” He stated bluntly, fixing Zaylee with his glassy blue eyes.

“This is a bar, not an encyclopaedia.” She placed one hand gently on her slightly-too-pronounced hip, looking rather unimpressed.

“You see,” He begun, loudly cracking his knuckles as he did so, gently leaning back on his barstool “I sent a few of my guys down here, a couple nights back, fairly routine stuff; scope the place out, get a feel for the general tone of the establishment.”

Zaylee had a feeling she knew where this was going, but let him continue nevertheless.

“Next thing I know, two of ‘em comes back screaming about witches and monsters, lookin’ like they’ve gone ‘un pissed ‘emselves. So, I tell ‘em both to take the night off, gather their senses and whatnot, only they both turn up dead in their sleep, the next day.”
He let the moment linger, pausing for some sort of dramatic suspense.

“I suppose I’m lookin’ for a…rational explanation to all of this.” He kept his eyes on her the entire time, as though he were searching for clues in her body language.

“I can’t explain the ramblings of every junkie and sloshed who comes in here.” She retorted nonchalantly, her face an emotionless mask, letting nothing on.

“I was ‘oping you’d make this easy for me…” He sighed loudly, before foraging a cigarette out from one of the many pockets of his trench coat, lighting it with an ornate-looking lighter.

He took a long puff, a thread-like trail of smoke wafting back over his shoulder.

“You can’t smoke in here.”

He extinguished his cigarette on the counter, leaving a large ash stain on the smooth wood.

“I’ve been livin’ in LA for a long time, missy…and I’ve seen some weird shit-and I mean frickin’ BIZARRE -, but a little girl makin’ two ‘ardened men piss ‘emselves scared , and then those two men turnin’ up dead, that’s gotta be pretty damn high up the list.”

Zaylee gave an indifferent shrug “I can’t help you, there.”

“Well then, you’re gunna be hearing from me again real soon, sista’” And with that he upped and left, strolling out into the moonlit streets.

Zaylee watched him leave, keeping her eye firmly fixed on his retreating figure.

This could be problematic…

*



A lean figure stood at the end of a grimy brick road, coolly gazing up at the dilapidated storeroom that lay ahead of her.

Madeline’s lithe body was covered in a black and grey woollen coat, adorned with golden buttons, which ran down to her ankles. A stainless steel machete was fastened to her waist, concealed by her choice of attire.

The gloomy woman had sent her on a journey, to take care of some bothersome brutes, so Maddie had brought her favourite toy with her.

She walked at a gentle pace, boot clad feet clicking loudly against the ground, a gentle gust lifting up her raven tresses. The Vampress whistled a tune nosily, the steady melody carrying on the wind.

She reached the entrance of the building, a grubby construction of cracked concrete and broken glass, before slowly making her way through the empty doorframe, stepping into a world of urban rot and decay.

The celling was coming away in places, and chunks of roof were scattered across the stony floor, lying in big heaps of fallen brick. The glass panels that comprised the windows were cracked and broken, shards of glass stricken about the place, and the humongous pillars that supported what remained of the celling were wracked with fractures and indents.

Maddie eventually found her targets on the third floor, happening upon a large group of diverse looking folk, scattered about the room in various states of preoccupation.

Obscured from the vision of others, via the use of Obfuscate, She stalked silently through the broken building, strolling up to a group of four, who were playing blackjack with a set of old playing cards. Maddie stood over the shoulder of a man who was wearing a stained wife beater and a baseball cap, peering down at his hand.

She leaned in so close that he could feel her cold breath against the flesh of his neck-whilst still being but a spectating spectre, to the eyes of the Kine-and whispered quietly in his ear, her voice no more than a soothing ripple in the back of his mind.

“The motley pack lives a life teeming with trouble and desolation,” she cooed “it would be an act of kindness to free them from their bondage.”

The moment she begun to speak, the man sat up straight, gooseprickles running across his skin. Her words seeped into his mind, sliding in through his ear, easing their way through his hollow skull, and planting their wicked talons in his brain. They swarmed over him, consuming everything, until there was nothing left but that single solitary suggestion.

The man in the baseball cap turned to the nearest card player, a stocky brute about twice his height and girth, fixing him with unblinking eyes, before slamming his fist into the bloke’s face, shattering his nose in a flurry of bursting blood and broken bone.

The big fella crashed to the floor, his grubby playing cards falling from his hands and spilling out across the floor, an unhealthy amount of gore trickling down his face.

“Yo! The Fuck?!” He roared, once he’d managed to register what was going on, wiping a fat smattering of blood up with the back of his beefy hand.

The big one knocked his assailant to the floor, gripping both hands tightly around the man’s windpipe.

Within seconds the two were upon each other, punching and biting and hissing and spitting and kicking, whilst others swarmed in to try and pull the pair apart. Blood and saliva soon covered both men, and a huge crowd of confused onlookers had gathered around them.

Maddie fell in beside a wiry looking figure with a gaunt face and eyes like a vulture, still very much invisible.

She had to stand up on her tip toes to reach his ear.

“The hounds have hearts of black ice. They will all turn on you.”

Her voice wove itself into the intricacies of his mind; twisting and consuming it, as it had done to the last man.

The gaunt man became rigid and bug-eyed, his previous fascination with the fight on the floor forgotten.

He pulled a lock knife from his pocket, falling upon a nearby figure-who was consumed with trying to pull the two fighters apart from each other-. His blade bit into the other man with eager glut, a thick spray of blood spurting out of the shocked thug.

The one who had been cut coughed and gaped, fighting for air, as he fell to the floor, the knife’s blade still stuck in his exposed trachea.

Blood pooled out across the floor, and suddenly all eyes were upon the stabber.

For a long moment there was simply an everlasting silence, as the room gawked at the gaunt faced man with bug-eyes.

Maddie spoke again, but this time she did not whisper, and her voice carried out to the entire group.

“The little lamp is lost in the wild woods, hunted by the dogs of war. It clings to life as though it matters, but there is no clear line between real and unreal.”

What ensued was sheer anarchy.

Chaos erupted, as brother fell upon brother, comrade upon comrade. The men fought each other with everything they had; clawing and biting, kicking and punching, stabbing one another with pieces of broken glass, and caving in each other’s heads with bricks.

Bones shattered, and blood spilled out across the floor. Clothes were torn, and skin was ripped.

One man’s rib tore through his flesh, and he simply pulled it forth through the red tear, using it to blind a man whose jaw had come unhinged.

Another had his eye knocked out, but persisted to fight on all the same, biting out the throat of a man who had burst the head of another, by smashing his skull against a pillar again and again and again and again and again.

A man opened up the throat of another with his razor, before pulling apart the wound with his hands.

After what seemed like an eternity of haphazard brutality, the floor was coated in red ooze, and chunks of body were strewn about the place. Bodies were piled on top of bodies, and twitching limbs clawed at nothingness.

Maddie saw a man’s neck bent at a funny angle, and giggled to herself.

Pale moonlight flooded in through the broken windows, casting a web of shadows against the concrete walls.

They were all dead now, but Maddie could still hear their voices; new friends come to join her in the sleek strands of the sprawling cobweb.

In the end, she hadn't even needed to use her machete.

As she left, Maddie stepped over the bloodied body of a heavyset gentleman in a trench coated, his glassy blue eyes staring into oblivion

Vampire: The Masquerade. Dance of the Damned

Zacharius said
I don't ask people to put up theme songs for characters, because I don't think a character can be summed up in (generally) 3 minutes of lyrics, however, stumbled across Saxon's 'unofficial theme' in case anyone fancies some LA themed shenanigans.

Would've personally used this for Saxon, but City of Angels works just as well.

Suppose I'll go for this for Tanith.

Game of Thrones - A Song of Ice and Fire

Gowi said
Just make note of the volunteer thing is fine but the king beyond the wall is a big deal 10 or so years before the rebellion.

Updated my application to (as far as I can tell) coincide with everything. Let me know if there's anything else that needs changing.