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2 mos ago
Current I declare war upon the fur of cats! Let the shedding commence!
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3 mos ago
Will get posts up when I can, I can barely think straight with this heat
3 mos ago
I summon the mega golden chicken. Now make me omelets.
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4 mos ago
Yay! Back to my normal posting capablities!
4 mos ago
Posts will be slow, but they shall come!

Bio

Hello! I'm LadyRunic! But you knew that...

I love most types of Role Play, but by far my favorites are fantasy. Magic, medieval, dragons, elves, modern day or otherwise. I can do Sci-fi and others but fantasy is my best. I also like music (except rap and most pop songs), gaming, drawing, animals, and books- So many books. It's a running bet that I will become buried under a pile of said objects one day... I'm a tad busy, and when a Rp really catches my interest I'm inpatient for posts. It's like reading a good book and getting stuck on a cliff hanger.

I also have a yearly anime convention I go to and it's literally my x-mas. So you can generally expect posts regularly once a day if probably more, but that's the one weekend I'm not available in the slightest unless I manage to restore my narcoleptic laptop. Which, let's face it, isn't happening any time soon. While I may get my hands on a computer and post, it's possible, I most likely wont. It's the Con and all hail the con. Yeah... I'm too excited typing this up.

I have no idea what you put in these things.

I've RP'd for years, so I can honestly say I have some experience and I've developed the itching fingers again- if you know what I mean-! Oh, I hope you know what I mean...

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Most Recent Posts

Blood's Jewels

“Terreille in Trouble”




Faeril Ashkevron

Location - Ashkevron Residence in Askavi

The rain fell in thick curtains of a steady downpour that would last the day as the Black Widow peered out the window that gave a lovely mountain view from a cozy kitchen. The sharp scent of stew that had been set to boil throughout the day was paired with another sweeter scent. Adjusting the witch fire that burned beneath a small pot big enough for a mere cup of liquid, Faeril gave it a small swirl of a silver spoon that had been passed down from her ancestors. Belor sat perched on a chair, and for a decently sized Eyrien warrior, the man appeared more like a drowned, winged rat than anything else. His expression far past thunderous and his thin lips clamped wisely shut. Faeril brooked no argument from males in her home and with good reason. A man that did not heed a Healer got in the way. One who did not listen to the Widow did not wander among the living for long. He had returned two nights past, and with news that was sour to his brothers and their chosen Lady.

Dusting her hands free of several herbal leaves, Faeril gave an amused look out the window at the grey landscape she called home. Were she a Queen herself they would not be going to such lengths, but she was not and oddly enough Faeril was grateful. She did not have the patience for stupidity and the knack of manipulating the Courts. Oh, she could do it well having grown up in one. But she was not a Queen and thus missed that subtle little something else they needed. Wringing moisture from the stem of a wormwood plant Faeril reasoned she would have met an untimely end before she would have matured. The twisted queens would not suffer a rival who could claim Healer and Widow as well as being a Queen. "If you keep sulking, you may go back outside and continue to make firewood for me." The Widow threatened the older Prince. "Really Belor. You pout like a toddler, yet you will not allow me to fix the problem."

As the dark haired Healer shook her head, the Eyrien male gave a deep growl that threatened violence. Though it was not intended to her, Faeril gave the Prince a sharp look gaining nothing but the contempt of a male for another of his sort who threatened what the Warlord Prince considered his. "You are not going near that place. Not after that bastard tossed me out with a blade at my chest!" The wood under the large hands of Belor groaning before he remembered himself. "As if he does not know the rules of survival! You cannot be open-" A sharp click of Faeril's tongue cut the older male off.

"You should have brought him here-" The woman raised a hand, her leathery wings spreading slightly, to cut off Belor. "While he is an Ebon-Grey Warlord Prince, I believe him trustworthy. Believed." Faeril amended, for she too also worried that secrets were not going to be kept secret. That soon no one could be trusted and the Helios war camp was going to fall. It would suit with the weather. Belor merely shook his head stubbornly, casting his own look towards the window and past it. Down into the valley were the village of Aren lay. A small place that supplied the Eyriens about it, namely with a place to pick up a keg of ale. Or sit down to drink the keg and several others then need to be carted home by neighbors. Faeril shook her head with a wry smile and continued working on the little hangover cure she was putting together. Belor for all his sour mood was not sitting about just to sulk, but also to wait to see Denar and Gen have to drink the stuff. It was a bad tasting as it was sweet smelling and if he wasn't over a thousand years old the man would be rubbing his hands together in glee.

@Torack As Lucivar whirled in fury using his Craft to pin and pummel the Master of the Guard to the late Queen Karlianne, Tristan erected a shield to protect himself. The feat was nothing more than a token of resistance before the Ebon-Grey Power pummeled the broken man. There was only one jewel in all the Realms that could put down Lucivar with little trouble and few would drag him into battle without good reason. While there were other jewels that could go toe to toe with the Eyriend Warlord Prince, they were few in the Realm of Terreille. The Queens having worked to great effect in wiping out their best weapon in an attempt to keep the leashes of the Warlord Princes' in their hands, or bound to the Realm of Hell. Blood seeped from Tristan's lips as tears ran down his cheeks. "I do not deny my failing." The Master of the Guard whispered through the pain of his body breaking apart. It seemed he wished to convey more to the enraged Ebon-Grey Warlord Prince, but there was only a gout of blood, as his jewel's power was burned out and his remains went limp. Painting the once dainty walls about him with gore.

From the window Lucivar could see the many citizens of Greyhaven locked away in their homes and businesses for the best it seemed. Though those favorited by Karlianne were being dragged from home and shop, their buildings being ransacked by what appeared to be males from several courts that supported Lady Sonya Thorne. While those loyal to the late Queen were rallying in defense it wasn't going to hold. Hyallians were in the mix and devastating with their numbers and bloodlust. A wonder what pact Lady Sonya made to gain such aid from Dorothea of Hyall. The corridor and rest of the manor was filled with the throes of battle and fighting guardsmen that were slowly being pushed back. Those attempting to protect which now laid dead, her ruby blood spilled about the pale floor.


Richard Laine




Location Stark Tower
Personality Traits: Clever * Ruthless * Self-Confident * Sarcastic * Charismatic * Predatory





Richard ran a hand through his hair as Charlie informed the rest of their small group that the others had gone on ahead. It irked the Adder that he could not be there, and damn Marygold for that! He was by far more experienced in dealing with risky meetings, one of the perks of being an assassin. Your drop could be covered by a cop, or the target could get suspicious. There were numerous ways for things to go wrong. "Do not count Stark and the Hulk out of the fight just because they lack in numbers." Richard admonished the younger man. "But of course you control fire, so I presume you'd have no probably aiding a handful of people in defeating an entire army. Not to mentioning trying to take down Stark in an assassination being a mightier in that regard than I?" His words were not harsh, but they carried the fact the assassin was heavily amused. After all, he had never even considered taking on the Starks. It was far to risky and dangerous because of their connections and what they were capable of.

As Allison stood in a panic, proclaiming there was danger and that she needed to find Tony. A wise move, he had to admit. Though he would like to know what they were going on about, Richard gave a small chuckle as the red fox of his sister followed after the 'Seer' as Ayita referred to Allison as. "JARVIS, you there?" Picking at some invisible lint under his nail the man considered sauntering after the duo. "Inform Stark the Elder and proficient that Allison and Ayita are looking for him with dire news." Looking to the fire based mutant, the man sighed in reluctance as he stood and made his way after the two. "Come along, boy. Might as well see what the girls got going on." The long legs of the assassin carrying him easily after the others.



Ayita Dyrkin




Location Stark Tower -Movie Theater / Following Allison
Personality Traits: Clever * Cynical * Loyal * Distant * Disciplined * Predatory





Ayita sighed as she considered the ideas her elder brother had place before her. To look to the past for the creatures? It was plausible, if worrying. She would need to research a lot of information, even then she felt the knowledge that theses were beings who would not fear man. Who would see only the monkeys man had once been and nothing more. A dangerous thing, especially if she lost control of their primal instincts. Giving Charlie a slightly irritated look, with such similarity a older wolf would give a bumbling young pup it was almost comical. The shifter felt the man counted out the Avengers far too easily. They were not mere anything, and Ayita would not want to fight them when they had something to protect or 'avenge' at their back. Situations like that made one's opponent all the more deadly.

When Allison jerked as if brought back to her sense- which she had been Ayita realized a minute later- the woman moved instantly to her friends side. Listening carefully to the rushed words. Shifting in a blur as the closest of her friends lunged from her seat, Ayita took the form of a red fox. Scurrying after the running Allison nimbly. "Stark. Stark. Stark! Trouble! Stark Trouble!" The mental telepathic thoughts stretched ahead of the two woman reaching for any sentient life as Ayita kept pace with Allison for all the world acting as a siren to herald the Seer's vision. Spying Mira with the Iron Man, the fox gave a flick her ears in recognition as she sat out of the way of human feet, daintily licking one soot black paw. "Trap." Ayita agreed with that notion. Leaving her mental 'microphone' on for any mind who could or would hear.
Looking for Vampire and Hunter Rp mainly. Victorian era preferably. And prefer to play the vampire.

But won't say no to other offers or suggestions til I hear them!



Richard Laine



Location: The Palace
Clever * Ruthless




The large king cobra gave a annoyed hiss, as his child spat fire at him. While Richard was not unused to the antics of the young, this was getting particularly annoying for all that she was adorable. There was a fine line between cute, and deadly. Something Richard had learned to appreciate in the youth of his life. When snowstorms or wild animals were a danger, and you also had a little one to watch out for life became interesting. Especially when one's little sister had always appeared so much older than a mere five years of age. Those large brown eyes drinking up the scenes of nature and not flinching away. He had done the same but with war and gunfire. Shaking his scaled nose as he focused on the little adorable, scaly ball of flaming pain.

Coiling about his lover and 'wife's' feet the cobra-Adder reared up to be just above eye level with his errant child. Giving a warning hiss as a bolt was shot at him, the snake flared out his colorful hood. Giving a irritated hiss, the man stood before the girl. One hand gently holding his dragonette's mouth shut. "Enough of that." The man said firmly. For all he was going to be very lenient with his offspring. He drew the line at being on fire. "I am not fire proof and your mother is." Giving a deeper growl the man shook the small mouth firmly- though being gentle as she had just hatched. Making sure to keep eye contact with the little Zekarra, before releasing her to tickle the girl under her chin like a cat. The man was still well prepared to dodge aside another bout of flames. Casting a look towards the two woman, without fully taking his eyes from the youngster, he managed a woeful look. "I don't suppose either of you can fix this?" He gestured to the horribly singed hair.




Rhys Asher



Location: The Palace
Cunning * Ruthless * Diligent * Heartless * Wise * Self-Centered




Rhys swore viciously as his concentration broke. A club hammering him in the head and causing his spell to falter as her fall to the street. The woman falling from his arms, as his hand flashed up to check his wound. His other hand moving to shove the ground beneath him lest he fall upon the woman he had tried to snatch away. It was no more than another second before there was twin blast and his thigh was on fire as a bullet pierced his hip. Rage burrowed in Rhys. Rage of the likes he had not felt since Arya Rincewind was chosen. Rage that echoed back to him killing his Mentor, not that anyone cried over that. The snarl upon his face was a thing of pain and hatred shone in his green eyes. So, luck had abandoned him?! He marked the faces about him. The Princess Luna, the woman he had meant to take to his home to twist to his own means and her little boy-toy. The gun wielding woman who had shot him, and he was most certainly not going to forget the woman who clubbed him.

Oh, revenge would come. Even if he had to dig two graves, he'd fit them all in one before he buried himself in the other. Turning on his back he swore at his bad luck. Pulling himself to his feet, Rhys slammed his fist against the building. "Fleur. Damn you, wytch!" He cursed, his temper peaking dangerously. Where had she been?! Off playing with Wendyllon Wytches is what! But it was a quick thing, he did not need to make an enemy of the woman. Not yet anyways. Calling up to the window he had fallen from, he hoped she was there. "Woman. That invitation to dinner is still open." Staggering away from the building he moved towards his home. Muttering a spell to conceal the wound on his thigh. "Conceal the blood. Cause the blood to stop the flood." He gritted out the spell as he walked. With this mood and temper riding him, he would be making curses this night. Curses enough that the entire city would burn if they went wrong.

There was an idea.
Sorry about the lateness! I had a lot going on and replying have been difficult this past week. Don't worry, shouldn't take longer than this any more!
Alice blinked and tilted her head curiously. For she had not known you could cook so with blood. But it was not a bad idea and gave new meaning to the term 'Bloody Mary'. Her lips twitched in amusement at the thought as a delicate hand took the plate. "Thank you." Her voice was more subdued as she tucked her legs beneath her. Her silverware clicking as she began to nibbled at the much needed blood. "I'm sorry to have worried you." The young fledgling vampire shot Liza an apologetic look, her green eyes sorrowful. In all honesty the woman was still considering leaving for Liza's sake.

But there was too much unknown and staying was her only choice. Revenge was looking impossible and out of her reach. Fighting seemed the only way to get it. A thought which made Alice sigh in forlorn melancholy. Yet another thought occurred to her, turning her green gaze shyly towards the older vampire Alice chewed her lip in thought. "How does one pull weapons from seemingly no where?" It was reasonable, for no where could Aleera had hidden that knife without Alice noticing! Tailoring had a few benefits it seemed in this world of the night.
Blood's Jewels

“Terreille in Trouble”



@nohbdies The two lads sat in the chair. Beneth looking like a sack of grain, Larin moving with wooden and choppy motions as Artemis helped him sit down. Pressing the heels of his hands into his red rimmed eyes, the archer gave a small shake of his head. "Don't know." He answered roughly as Artemis peered out her door before shutting it. "Didn't stick about. Don't stick about." The white jeweled Warlord advised the Healer, an unspoken apology in the dark green eyes and too pale face. Both of the young Warlords' hands were shaking as they came down from the adrenaline high. Larin glanced at the covered Hyallian only too look away. A greenish twinge coming over his face.

Beneth nodded weakly. "That one-" His eyes glanced towards the still figure. "He killed our father. Was comin' after us. But we got him decently. Chance the game of cat and mouse." The sentences were jumbled, a roughness to his speech speaking of the terrors the boy had seen, and the shock he was going through. Not to mention grief if their father had really died. Returned to be but a Whisper in the Darkness. Vaclav was not so wounded as to be still unconscious. In fact he was quiet able to hear the word of Larin and his brother. Compared to what had happened here, the tales of what must be happening in Greyhaven were horrendous.

@eclecticwitch The Master of the Guard gave a predatory growl deep in his throat as Fatima ordered him to wait and bide his time. Waiting for their people to be stronger. This made the Court shift anxiously. They were far older than Fatima in general, and they highly doubted there would be any 'thriving' for this village. Durik, for one, was moving into his twilight years. The grey of his black hair showing in threads here and there. The Steward had seen the rise of Dorothea and had not opposed the woman, ensuring his own safety in fact, as well as those of his brother's family. That said brother was buried in some unknown grave, having been a tool in a game between queens. A pawn that had been sacrificed. His nephews had too been pressed into joining the Courts, despite Durik's best efforts. His sister-in-law and her daughter had been plucked away powerful Warlord Princes. The Steward didn't bother to think upon their fate, it was an unwelcome thought and only served to weigh him down with guilt.

Wrapping a strong arm about Fatima's waist, Beneth gave Hynter a sneer. The other Summer-Sky Warlord looking away as to avoid a fight with the Opal Warlord Prince. Heaving a sigh of relief Durik looked over the books Fatima had procured. These were battered copies, but the idea was a decent one. "The problem also lies with the fact the land is dry." It was not Durik who spoke, but his second- and soon to be replacement- Garren. The Preist was a quiet sort, with a long face and longer limbs. Looking enough like a crane that his White jewel was nearly over looked. While he was not a powerhouse, Garren was clever and could keep a book nearly as well as the aged Durik. "Drained." The man stressed, his hands emphasizing his point. "We can plant and grow, and try all we like. Let our land heal, and our neighbors will come in and take it." The soft voice was bitter, with good reason. Garren had suffered under Fatima's mother. Often being sent off to appease the neighbors. Neighbors he now loathed.

Durik nodded in reluctant agreement. "He has a valid point, Lady." The Steward said carefully. "But these beans will help, and the mine can be staffed by those- relocating- from other villages." Beneth was shaking his head, but Durik already had a counter to the worry of a threat slipping in. "Several of our folk have moved away to find only ill. What harm would there be in welcoming them back? Surely it would curry good will?"

It was the second eldest of the group, Jassen, who rubbed a hand through his own slightly grey locks. "If only we could consult the tangled webs." His cheeks were red and blotchy from drink as his words bordered on outright treason as he spoke of how the Black Widows looked into the void of time. Jassen had become a drunk in the past years, attesting a relationship at least on his end.


Ayita Dyrkin & Richard Laine




Location Stark Tower





The assassin sighed in a forlorn manner. Giving the professor a tired look as the man explained Folly's actions. His arm locked about Ayita's shoulders. "Glad she's on our side. However, I can understand the mentality. Too often kids that enter those places don't come out the better. Adults either." The man sighed, passing his free hand over his face. Hadn't he fled just that when he left he army? But that was neither here nor there. Giving the Seer-brat a stern look he flicked her nose. "Take care each other. Stay alive, stay safe. If I get the chance..." The Adder didn't bother to finish the thought. He couldn't. What would he do? Kill the bastard? Tempting but there would be more trouble? He was going as a hired gun. That was all. Plus... Ayita was capable. Even if she was young- she was capable. Giving the shorter Laine- even if she gave up the name, she was still one to him- a side hug. The man lowered his lips to her ear.

Ayita's eyes widened as she listened to her brother. To the words said. "Your forms are many. More than I. They can exist with wing or fur. You look at the present. Look to the past. Where the great ruled and man was but a pawn in the eyes of nature." Richard had been mussing over the different forms she could take. Those far more dangerous were the ancients that dwelt before the modern day. Before humans tainted the earth. There was no reason for the younger not to be able to take the form of those creatures from the caveman days. He had been doing some extra research there, but he had been saving it. Waiting for her birthday to urge her to shift into the greater forms. Or at least an attempt. The amber eyes turned thoughtful. It was feasible, but it was also dangerous. Not to mention the work it could take. In lieu of Allison's words, however, the woman nodded slightly. Her eyes distant.



Richard Laine



Location: The Palace




Richard gave a colorful swear as the girl sneezed, his hair burning as the babe seemed to sneeze fire. A second small blast made Richard hiss as the fire warmed his skin past the point of comfort. "Don't set your father on fire. You're mother's impervious, I am not." The man scolded the girl, amusement in his British accent. Giving Thalia a reproving look, the man fell to the ground. A large king cobra rising up to catch the suit jacket before it hit the floor. The man/snake's hood flaring as he draped the coat over the tip of his tail, trying to spare it from dust and soot.

Twisting, the cobra twined about Thalia, peering down at the tiny baby dragon. His tongue flickering out. Lyra's words were a comfort, one that softened Richard's mood towards the newly made knight. Mentally he cursed the fact that he had been forced to shift, but he was reluctant to have his hair burned off by his infant daughter. He would have rather kept this in his back pocket, but he had more than one trick for such reasons. Settling to change back when he wasn't about to become a flaming father again, the cobra gave a odd stuttering hiss. His laughter, of a sorts. Richard always considered himself hot, but literally flaming wasn't his style.




Rhys Asher



Location: The Palace




The cutting chill cut into Rhys as the man considered his options. Time was drawing to a close and there was a choice. To snatch Luna or the woman beneath him? The woman was a better option as he doubted the protector who had declared that people were to 'bugger off' would be easy to take down and with the way his luck was running... Lead wasn't something he needed in his diet. Rhys shook his head as the woman began speaking, demanding rather, that the pistol slinging woman should escort the princess to the castle. "By all means see the Princess is returned to her proper place. I have no quarrel with the Royal Family." The 'prick' didn't smile for that would be far too much. "This one, however, has a debt to pay." The man cast a stern look at the woman beneath him.

Turning his gaze down at the little woman as she spoke a perhaps making a deal with some 'Puck' character. Rhys stood, picking her up and maneuvering to carry her bridal style. "I am curious of this deal, buy neither of us are ready to be speaking in this bitter chill and I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I let you freeze." Keeping her head away from his face and neck, the man stalked in an random direction. [color=Gold]"Concealed and warm within my arms. Safe I'll keep you from all harm, but take your sight and rend you blind. Hearing, scent to darkness bind. Confound, confuse, til I release you." The man whispered the spell, focusing all his thoughts upon it. In the ideal sense it would conceal Amarantha and keep her warm. The draw back to the woman would be that she would lose her senses. Something Rhys was going to do anyways. Dangerous as she was, it was best to render her at a disadvantage. His long legs took him away from the Coven's home. Fleur would be needing a lot of buttering after this, but he would deal with that when it came. He needed this little killer first. Which is why he was taking a round about way to his home. As to confuse her, ideally.
@nohbdies 2 days to post!
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