PopeAlessandros

Immortal Blues (PopeAlessandros and FiroIV)

Ah, yes, sorry. I forgot to add it to my subs so I fergot. It's been really hectic the past few days and I was busy working on a novel I'm co-authoring with an Aussie friend overseas. I only get his a few days out of the month, and that was the last few days. *Bows* Sorry, I should have subed to this sooner! And I should have warned you of the busy. Could you do me a favor and transfer over the pertinent information we have already to the RP here and I'll get to work on it in the morning wif you? If you don't have the time, I'll do it when I get up! Sorry again. *Bows*

When Realms Collide {AkiBlue & PopeAlessandros}

The medical team works as quickly as they can, carrying the Nightmare Guardian down the hall to s spare room close to the medical wing. Even under their leader's orders, they were hesitant to bring so much negative energy anywhere near their injured patients. A few of the medics rush forward to strip the bed down to the fitted sheet of the queen sized bed so they have a flat surface to work with. As they lay the white haired male on the mattress a small group of aids arrive with medical supplies. Once Seishu is in place there is a moment where everyone stops and stares. The look around at one another, trying to figure out where to start. Their usual procedures of infusing the patient with positive energy would most likely do more harm than good.

Finally a tall female with two sets of arms and tan skin steps forward, rolling up he sleeves. “Alright, let's do this. No energy, just treat him like the humans treat their wounded.” She barks, approaching the bed with only minor hesitation. “First step is getting his clothes off to expose the wounds. Let's get to it!” And with that they set to work. Blades and scissors make short work of his clothes after they manage to dis-articulate his armor. Black fabric stained with blood is taken but the aids and bundled into a sack to be burned later. As they continue to work no one notices the small rounded face peeking around the doorway, trying to get a look at the foreign creature being treated on the bed being slowly stained crimson.

____*____

Gin grins widely as he watches a group of nightmares searching wildly for their former leader. Tapping his war prize against his shoulder, the new self proclaimed Guardian of the Nightmare Realm takes off towards the palace with his closest supporters on his heels. He'd finally done it. Finally, he was in charge, and no one could tell him what to do. Sure, some of those pathetic nightmares may try and rebel against him, but he had enough minions on his side that the nightmares stand no chance. A low chuckle escapes him as he imagines what he'll do to anyone who opposes him. The moonlight overhead illuminates the crystal blue fields below. Gin's wings make a faint flapping sound as the flesh snaps with every beat.

____*____

The dream medics just finish on the shoulder wound, after binding the stomach wound and removing the positive energy blocker, when the Nightmare Guardian stirs. The entire room stills as he moans softly then falls silent once again. The furry medic tying the bandage around his shoulder lets out his breath then finishes tying, giving it a tight tug to make sure it's tight.

Suddenly Seishu's eyes snap open and he sits up with a growl. The medics around the bed flee to the edged of the room as he begins radiating higher levels of negative energy. His eyes dart around the room, press of positive energy offset only slightly by the fear pulsating off the strange collection of dream in white coats around him. 'Oh gods, I've died and gone to hell. That has to be it. I've never felt so much. . . .' He shudders before letting out a long moan of pain and collapsing back on the bed. 'Nope, not dead. Dead doesn't hurt' He takes a few steadying breaths, casting an arm over his eyes to block out the glaring lights above. After a moment he hears movement and peeks out from under his arm. When he can't find it right away he growls, causing several of the bright creatures around him to cringe back further.

After a few more seconds he spots what made the noise before. Behind the creatures in coats a small minion stands in the doorway, it's odd outfit making a clicking noise when he moves ever so slightly. The cute cherubic face reminds him of someone but Seishu has a hard time thinking through the pain. Glaring around at the fearful medical personnel Seishu lets out another growl and say loud enough for the entire room to hear, “If you don't have the balls to do your job, you could at least dim the lights. The glare is killing me.” A few of the dreams and minions look at one another but none of them move away from their positions against the walls. Rolling his eyes the Nightmare Guardian covers them both with his arm again and begins tapping his inner reserves. The action erects a sort of bubble for fear around him that lesser dreams would have a hard time passing through if they actually wanted to.

One Life, Lived in Death ~ PopeAlessandros x Wernher

I have a minor request for your posts. I have a hard time following who's talking when, so if you could do something about it like label each person's speech with a "He said" or "He shouts" or something. I learned that in books authors keep it all strait but making sure only one person speaks per paragraph, so maybe you can try that? It's what I had to do when working on the site I write my books on. I use to write in big blocks like what you do, and I love them, but without at least label on each "" section, I'm getting a little lost as to who's speaking half the time.

One Life, Lived in Death ~ PopeAlessandros x Wernher

A wave of unease passes gently over his heart and Aslon stops breathing for a moment. 'I don't know what just happened, but the wood is not happy about it' he thinks, pulling in another lung full of putrid air. Glancing back down at the pack of beasts growling and snapping at him the feeling of uneasy intensifies as he watches them pause. Their ears, those that have them, perk up as if they hear something and much to his chargin they proceed to back away from the tree. 'Oh yes, this can not be good. I didn't hear anything, so what they heard must not be something meant for living ears to hear' Gritting his teeth slightly he fights the urge to just jump down from the tree and start running back to his lands. 'That's what that bastard expects. It’s the most logical action to take. But I'm not going to give up just yet. My people need to know what's going on here. They need me to be successful. And I will be'

With his confidence bolstered by his internal pep talk Aslon closes his eyes, pressing one hand to the trunk of the dead tree. He listens to the wind, the earth, and takes what little he can from the once living flora. After several silent moments his eyes snap open, his mind sharp and focused on his task. Dropping down a couple branches he walks along one of the thicker limbs until he's within jumping distance of the nearest tree. “Time to fly.” he murmurs and in a flash he takes off. With a single leap he lands in the middle of the branch he was aiming for. The dead wood bends dangerously but before it can snap he darts down it to the base and on to another branch. Like a squirrel he rushes through the treetops, never once setting foot on the earth as he moves further and further into the necromancer's territory.

He moves so fast that the wind whips across his face, making him blink rapidly when his footing is secure to keep them from tearing up. 'According to the history books, if I just keep the sun on my back while I travel after mid day, I should keep moving towards the center of the wood. The stories say that that's where the foul thing resides' Pausing at the trunk of a tall tree with thick branches he leans in close against the smooth bark and catches his breath. The thrill of the acrobatics mingled with the danger of the quest mingles together to sap his stamina. His eyes trail upward past the branches and he holds his breath for a moment as his eyes discern a shape moving high above the treetops. 'A bird?' he wonders, but shrugs it off as the beast turns away before coming close enough to spot him. 'It has to work for him. There are no living animals that dare enter this forest any more, and I've never seen one fly over it either'

Just as he exhales his breath is caught again as his sharp ears pick up the sound of hoof beats in the distance. Pressing his palms to the tree trunk he casts his senses out through it's roots and manages discern that it's a single rider alone. A slow smile creeps across his lips as his eyes open and he gets a wicked idea. 'Well at least I can piss the soul sucker off a bit I suppose. That is if he gives a damn about his animals' And with a rather juvenile, but irresistible idea in mind, Aslon pinpoints the horse and rider's location with his keen eyes and ears and takes off through the branches at top speed.

When he comes upon the rider he doesn't slow, instead he launches himself full force at the thing in the saddle, landing a hard kick to it's site that propels it off the horse and into the nearest tree. Aslon feels bones break as his kick connects and shudders. His hand snaps out as he passes over the saddle and with a slightly painful jerk to his shoulder he grabs the edge of the leather and swings himself around in a graceful arc, landing astride the beast gently. Out of the corner of his eye Aslon catches sight of the undead creature trying to get to it's feet with a few broken vertebra. Playing his years of practice, masterful skills, and a bit of magic he manages to keep the horse from bolting and instead it takes off at a steady pace, turning with pressure from the elf's knees to put the sun behind them.

After a few minutes of travel he reaches around to get a hold of the horse's reigns and pulls the beast to a stop. 'Well, I'm a little more mobile now, but if I keep heading in this way, I'm sure to run across more of these guys. I gotta think' Aslon's ears perk up as the sound of running water nearby catches his attention. Turning the horse towards the sound he pushes it into a slow walk and moments later a small stream comes into view. The pitch black steed needs no encouragement and walks right up to the water, dropping it's head to drink. 'Must be safe if she's drinking' he surmises and gets down carefully. Keeping one hand on the reigns he scoops up a few handfuls of the clear liquid. The cool water soothes his throat and when he has his fill he pulls out his wine skin, dipping it in the spring to re-fill it and cool it down. Once it's full he reaches up and rubs his sore shoulder with his damp, chilled hand. The cold feels good.

[Suspect] To His Liking. [Pope]

You know, I just read through our PMs and you never told me which you wanted to be, Elder or Newborn? Or we did and I just missed it. I know I lean more towards the Elder myself, but I can try newborn if you wanna be Elder :P

A Bloody Murder

Which one sounds good? The first one (Bodyguard and/or informant) or the second one (False kidnapping) ?

Of Steam and Souls

Shigetoshi is hailed by another patron and Tatsuki's pleading eyes “fall on blind eyes” so to speak. He follows the young owner's movements for a few seconds before dropping his gaze back down to his meal with a deep sigh. One of the girls seems to think that he wants more attention because she shuffles to sit down right next to him. “What's the matter Tatsuki-kun? You sound like you're suffering from a broken heart or something.” She practically coos at him as the other girl her sister as he's gathered from listening to them talk. With his head still down he rolls his eyes so they can't see it before responding automatically.

“No. No broken heart, just an overworked spirit.” His voice reflects his words perfectly, sounding very much the aged being he is. The two girls almost seem to shiver, responding to the line far too strongly. Tatsuki surmises that their hubbys must not pay them enough attention. Being the most personal and honest thing he's said about himself thus far, the girls clamor for more about his burdened soul and what makes it so overworked. He gives them a few more overly poetic lines and watches as they seem to get completely taken in. After a few minutes he notices Shigetoshi diverting his attention in his direction and without another word he stands.

The girls object in rather whiny tones which grate on him a bit. Reaching up to scratch his ear with his free hand, he makes his way to the young innkeeper’s side. His lips curl up into a sincere smile as he reaches the boy. “Ohayou, Shigetoshi-san.” He murmurs. His eyes glide over the tables where a few of the guests have left their dishes. Gesturing to them with his free hand he says, “Allow me help you clean up.” He jerks his head slightly to indicate the girls now getting to their feet, their eyes still locked on Tatsuki's back and adds, “Please.” in a slightly pointed tone. Without waiting for a response he moves off towards one of the tables just as the girls get close enough to try and strike up a conversation again. He rolls his eyes openly while facing away from them as he hears dual sounds of disappointment from them.

As a shinigami, Tatsuki has very little opportunity in his existence to learn to relate to someone attracted to him. Before he became a shinigami he knows he had romantic relationships, but those memories are rather faded now. He was told early on after becoming what he is now that some emotions should be avoided to make the job easier. In the case of attraction he understands very well how it could cause problems. If one was to become involved with a target, the shinigami would be torn about taking the soul and may fail in their duties, or worse, fight to stop others from doing it for them. Tatsuki has become rather skilled over the years at avoiding situations that may elicit such feelings, however it bothers him to no end how some humans seem to become infatuated over something as simple as a pretty face.

A Bloody Murder

The scene I wanna try is that moment I mentioned in my guy's sheet. In his moment of sympathy before each kill, he gives the target a chance to say their final words. So in this case, my guy would have the blade in such a way that your guy couldn't move before waking him to take his dying words. It would be then that your guy does his magic in keeping his heart beating :P

As for something better? I've always though a consistent job would be great incentive. Like the prince could hire him as a secret bodyguard and/or information gatherer. This would have the assassin reporting to him every few nights and/or basically stalking his every move. This would work also to get a better feel of the politics of the land, and perhaps get the young man on the throne safely :P

Or, alternatively, he could ask for the assassin's help in escaping all the crazy politics and collect a king's ransom from, well, the king :P Not knowing where else to go, the prince could follow the assassin back to his home after they collect the ransom. In that option, we'd be exploring the Fae side of things more, but I see eventually going back to the kingdom after say, word of his sister's death? He would go back to find out what happened, and at this point the two of them would be close and the assassin would go with him because he felt like it.

Those are just my ideas. . . . . .

When the Roar Falls ~ PopeAlessandros x Raafling

Here he is!

Name: Viltez (Villagers call his Tezy)

Race: Half-breed

Age: 23

Height: 5' 9”

Weight: 135lbs

Hair: Scraggly, gray, shoulder length, but very uneven. He tries to keep it parted, but it doesn’t listen very well.

Eyes: And odd shade of Blue-green.

Skin: Very lightly tanned.

Build: Fit, well muscled, like a track runner, so not scary in the muscle department.

Clothes: Simple purple rough spun tunic with black leather belt cinching it at the waist. The tunic is longer than most and almost touches his knees. Bottoms are a pair of well worn brown breeches with a strange furry “Belt” around the top. He wears old hard soled brown leather work boots most of the time.

Accessories: And old bronze ring given to him by his father. Engraved on it are a wolf and a lion intertwined with one another. The ring has been passed down in his father's side of the family for generations.

Powers/Skills(If Applicable): His belt is actually a tail he inherited from his father's side of the family and despite his never using it in an effort to hide his heritage, with a little practice it could become a formidable weapon. Other than that he's rather strong from years of hard labor working around the village, and he has a basic understanding of a multitude of handy skills.

Extra: His tail is long enough to wrap around his body twice, and about as thick as a grown woman's wrist. It's covered in fur that matches his hair in color, but is more like the furn on a Russian blue. At the end if a seven inch long, sharp, bone blade, shaped like a hawk talon and pitch black. He keeps the tail wrapped around his waist under the tunic like a belt with the hook tucked under the tail in the front.

General Personality: Viltez is a very open and honest person. He's very likable, and is kind to those in need. He feels that everyone deserves as many chances as it takes for them to “Get it right”. He's always quick to tell a joke or do a little shtick to get a laugh out of someone who's down. The only time he seems secretive is when asked about his family. When the topic comes up he'll either change the subject or say he'd rather not talk about it and go quiet until someone else does. He gets easily irritated with people who take advantage of other, or are ungrateful for a kindness they've received, and more than once he's decked someone for being an ass. However he doesn’t like hitting people and does everything he can to avoid it.

Background: As a young child Viltez grew up with his father at the edge of a great forest. He didn't know that they lived there because father's people kicked him out for having a child with a human, nor did he know his mother was killed by her family for bearing a child from a Beastwalker. The long bloody wars between the two races were never known by the little boy. He spent his days with his father, fishing, hunting, learning to weave and work with wood. Eventually the embers of war once again were fanned into a blaze and they could live in peace no longer. Viltez was twelve by then and able to fend for himself for the most part.

His father brought him to a nearby human village in the middle of the night and gave him a long tunic. He told his son that he had to hive his tail and just be a human. That would make him safe, if he could just be human. He said the words over and over until he was sure Viltez understood. His father left that night and he hasn't seen him since. At first he lived just outside of town, coming into town each day to just look for work. He was careful to keep his tail hidden and eventually there was a fire and the town was in need of a few extra hands to do the repairs. While working with the other men of the village he overheard a lot about the war, and that is how he found out why his father had made him pretend to be a human in a little backwater village.

Hunting for his own food and repairing his own clothes, Viltez eventually saved up enough to build his own hut at the edge of the village and has lived there ever since. He has no real shame in his heritage, but even after getting close with many of the villagers he knows they would turn on him in a second if they found out what he is. As such, he's never been in any kind of romantic relationship, despite several of the village girls' attempts to change that fact. He keeps to himself most of the time, but when he's out and about he keeps up a friendly face and is rather content with his life.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

So, what do you think?

When the Roar Falls ~ PopeAlessandros x Raafling

I'd have him a half-breed something else mortal, and maybe he's trying to keep it a secret from everyone, but the dragon can tell :P