Rusalka

Feud of Families: Blood Deep

@King Tai

~"Hmph...hybrids, the cursed breed. I'm well aware of their power, Stone, as much as I was about the vendettas between the three ruling covens, since I was informed by my so called sex slave."~ Yet another insult to her beloved, but Rebecca brushed it off. Besides, it was Camille she was more concerned about leaping over the desk and digging her claws into the cue-ball.

Nonchalant she snatched the folder off the desk, her eyes skimming over the minor details, paying no further attention to the blowhard behind his fancy desk. All she needed was just the image of this Vladimir fellow, everything else was just folly. ~"To have the benefits of both Nosferatu and Lycan blood, they should be considered a bit more elite, but do the mutual disdain both species share for their tainted bloodlines, they are considered nothing more than trash. Frankly, they're all abominations, and rightly so I will see to it they are eradicated. Although..."~

She placed the folder back on the desk, neat and tidy just as it was presented with a smirk, ~"I can't say I've ever grappled with one myself. Their strength is notable indeed, but I've never experienced such. It would be a little too tempting not to undertake a pacifist approach. Nevertheless, Stone, I will agree to your terms....for now."~ And of course, she knew of the recent feud between the three clans, Capers, Banes, and Blackwoods, each pointing responsibility towards the other for the slain heads of their...infamous families. Rebecca had a hunch the Big Apple was grasped in the coils of the serpent, licentious covens treating the city as their whore, with her hands tied behind her back and a blindfold obscuring her woeful eyes, but she had only assumed one was in control, not three. And not just vampires, but lycans...and hybrids.

~"I could care less what this Vladimir has to do with the three families or this childish spat between them. He's a target, and that is all, the same with the others."~ She stood from her chair with another stretch, beckoning Camille to follow her to the door. ~"I'll send word when I've made contact with him. Oh, and Stone?"~ A pause at the door, the woman glancing at him over her shoulder. ~"Stop sending your damn spies to shadow me and my darling when we are out and about. If I had any intentions to plot against you, it would have been the day you shoved a crucifix into my breast. Ciao."~ And with that she disappeared out the door, Camille ambling behind her, but not without a last act of defiance towards Stone, sticking her tongue out at him in such a juvenile manner.

"Grr! What a douchebag!" She grumbled, her tiny fists balled up and shoved into the pockets of her hoodie. "Did you hear that asshole? Dyke? Pet? Sex slave? Psh! Guy's just jealous cause he probably doesn't get any tail." Rebecca merely chuckled in response to the tirade, so adorable Camille was when she was flustered, ~"You could be onto something, dear, and apologies I didn't punish him for such vulgar behavior towards you, my sweet."~

"It's okay." Camille sighed, the tension loosening a little in her face as she managed to smile. "I didn't want you to get in trouble because of me, Mistress. I'm sorry." But her smile faded into a small frown. Rebecca leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, a gentle peck of her lips to show she wasn't angered in the least by Cammie's outburst. It was justified after all. ~"No need for that, darling. I would have done the same in your case."~

Camille blushed, her fingers gracing where Rebecca's lips made contact. "So, are we really going after that Vlad guy? He sounds dangerous." She asked. Rebecca answered with a sigh, ~"I'm afraid we've no choice, Camille. Stone's ordered it, and begrudgingly, we must oblige, however..."~ A smirk found its way to her lips, a mischievous glint in the polar ice of her eyes. ~"If he thinks I'm going to play by his rules, he's only fooling himself. I'll deal with this Vladimir on my own terms."~

Feud of Families: Blood Deep

@King TaiAn elder vampire and her sidekick...with a big ass sniper rifle! XD I think maybe at some point Rebecca will be fed up with having to work with humans and defect on her own, which could possibly lead to her becoming a fugitive vampire and hunted down by the UHC. Just some thoughts.

If I Woke Up Beside of You ~Game~

-___o

O__-

-____- I am not going to jail for pedophilia.

Claymore Academy (always accepting)

@sassy1085@Otaku95

Tohru greeted Ryuko back with a slight nod, the first girl to not swan over her like she was the Goddess Amaterasu descended from the heavens, or to not paint a target on her back for that matter, like Kaname and Yuki had recently done. She didn't seem to add Asuka to that list, simply because she felt the enmity between them was...slowly fading. Still, Tohru couldn't help but feel a sense of uneasiness with Asuka sitting nearby. Akuma no Hime didn't seem to pay much attention though, as she was more...infatuated with her new friend. "Yeah, if you ask me, I think they look to be a bit too chummy." Tohru murmured to Rin in reply.

A gruff clearing of the throat from Nishikawa-Sensei meant the lecture was about to begin. Tohru and Asuka both grabbed their notebooks and pens and turned their attention towards the front of the classroom, every once in a while the two exchanging somewhat steely glances at each other. If she has changed for the better, then maybe that means I can make amends to her.

Don't think I'm letting you off the hook just yet, Tohru-San.... You're still going to pay...

Feud of Families: Blood Deep

@King Tai Eh...I'm alive, so I guess I'm good. Also I'm still laughing at your post. XD Stone's gonna get his ass kicked by lezzie vampires one day.

Blood Suckers vs The Werewolves

@Wraithblade6

True for a vampire, the night was not a thing to fear.

They were part of it, she and the blue haired teen, creatures born of the darkness, forever cursed to lurk only in shadow and not the light. Twas a beautiful night, that much she could agree upon. The moon, out in full bloom, so bright and miraculous against a sheet of violet bespeckled by so many shimmering stars, like crystals flickering amidst a never ending sea of dark yet vibrant colors, and yet...it had felt so ominous to Rebecca, this night. A full moon, even if it was a sight, it was never a good one for a hunter, even one who hunted her own kind.

They would be about at this hour, prowling through the wilderness and the badlands, sniffing out their prey whom they may devour with rotten, festering teeth in clenched brutal jaws, savoring the delectable taste of blood and fresh sinew upon their tongues as they howled with glee and praise to the gory, grisly feast. Almost instinctive she thumbed back the safety on her gun, slightly. Damned she be, dragging herself and her lovely thrall out here, out into the wilds on a goose chase for a Nosferatu, out...into their hunting grounds. Pray to the gods we don't come across a werewolf. She muttered in her mind while stalking through the thick foliage, Camille following closely and stumbling a little. The poor girl, even in the dark Rebecca could see her shivering, thinking to herself how quaint a vampire being afraid of the night. ~"It's alright, sweetie."~ Assuringly she whispered glancing over her shoulder. ~"You've nothing to fear. I'll kill anyone who dares to harm my sweet servant."~ Camille said nothing, she didn't have to. Just a simple nod, along with the glow of her cheeks, was good enough to show Rebecca she agreed.

A little further through the field they pressed on, even if the brushing of grass against their bare legs were giving them both uneasy feelings, their weapons held firmly in their hands and ready to strike at any given moment, any given time they were ambushed by lycan or Nosferatu alike. ~"Camille, wait."~ Rebecca lifted a hand to halt the girl ambling behind. She sniffed of the air, her nostrils flaring a bit, her nose crinkling. Blood...it was everywhere around them, the metallic, gruesome scent overtaking the soothing aromas of the night, just serving to make the woman more on-edge. Another scent as well...carrion, rotting flesh writhing with maggots and puss spewing infection, fungus and lichens overtaking corpses of innocent souls slain unjustly. This place...it was a killing field, definitely werewolf territory. ~"There is death all around us...I can feel it upon the ill winds of midnight. We're in their midst, Camille, a hell hound's paradise. One step in the wrong direction...could be our last."~

"M-mistress...I'm scared." Camille whimpered softly, her little body shaking and shivering without end. "I feel like there's somebody watching us, a presence, dark...malevolent...ruthless. I can feel it lurking beyond the trees, their eyes burning into the back of my skull. What if it's them, the creature who attacked that poor girl?"

It had to be, Rebecca thought, yet...something felt off to her. The way Camille spoke of this so called...presence, it was as though she were speaking something powerful, something far more beyond a typical youngling. Could it have been...an elder? She sighed, wrapping her arm around the girl and pulling her close, kissing her gently on her forehead. ~"I wouldn't doubt it. His blood trail led us all the way out here, no less, to these god forsaken wastes. My only hope is that he is a vampire and not a lycan. I could kill him, but it will take alot, and frankly, I don't think we have enough bullets to take down a werewolf."~ Gingerly Rebecca ruffled Cammie's blue hair. ~"But never you fear, sweetheart. We'll make it out of here alive, even if I have to rip the bastards apart with my bare hands."~

"Thanks, Mistress." She murmured in reply, but then...

"Up to no good, no doubt."

"AAH!"

*BANG*

The gunshot rang out through the dead of the night, an echo that pierced through the ill silence, sending crows and other avian creatures flocking away in terror. ~"Camille!"~ Rebecca yelped, instantly at the girl's side as she shook clutching her pistol. ~"Camille, what's wrong with you? What was it?"~ The girl said nothing, only frozen with eyes wide in shock of where she had fired her weapon...or rather...who stood before her. Rebecca shined her flashlight in the given direction and soon...she spotted him, tall, intimidating, waves of black hair like the plumage of ravens draping over his broad, chiseled shoulders...and those eyes...those beastly, feral eyes. ~"Don't move!"~ She growled, her firearm leveled upon his head. ~"One mistake and I'll send you to Hell, bastard!"~

On the Streets

"Life is just....fucked up."

Elizabeth Kainestrom

------------------------------------------------------

Nicknames: Liz or Lizzie is fine, but never call her Lizard. She hates it.
Age + Birthday: 22 (Currently), born October 13th, 1993
Relationship Status: Single
Sexuality: Lesbian

General Appearance:

Elizabeth stands about 5'1'' and weighs roughly 135 lbs. She has a fairly slender build with a bit of curve to her and her bust size is a b-cup. Her long raven black hair drapes over her shoulders with a few bangs always hanging down in her face, and her eyes are a piercing shade of ice blue. She's not too big on fashion either, but then again, what can you expect from a broke runaway, so her clothes are always frayed and grungy looking. Most of her clothes she carries around in an old military duffel bag she stole from her father, along with her beat up acoustic guitar

History:



"People lie all the time, even when they tell you the truth..."

Moving from the Midwest, Liz failed to fit in and make friends, usually choosing to exclude herself from
certain people, but when she did consider having a friend, she was cruelly rejected and ostracized by the
other students, leading her to recede more and more into herself. Liz was born to her mother and father in Des Moines, Iowa on October 13th. Her mother worked as a receptionist for a hospital while her father was a sheriff's deputy. However Elizabeth wasn't her father's child but the child of her mother and another man she had an affair with behind his back. Once her father, a cruel and abusive drunk, discovered the truth, he tried to kill his wife and child. Liz's mother escaped with her from Iowa, and together, the two tried to start a new life.

It was rather easy for her mother, but for Liz.....it was Hell. Elizabeth was constantly bullied by the children in her class, the ridicule and ostracism proceeding till she was twelve, when her mother fell gravely ill with cancer. It wasn't months later, her mother passed away. Liz had never cried so much in her life. She felt that without her mother, she had nothing. All that was left.....was for her to die too, but her first attempt at suicide went awry. Trying to jump from the window of her mother's apartment, she was caught by the landlord, sending her into a crazed, convulsing fit.

For the next few months, she was admitted to an asylum after continuously cutting and burning herself, later being released and adopted by a strict ex Marine and his wife living in Dallas, Texas. She was soon running with a "bad" crowd and constantly rebelled against her foster parents, often getting into trouble with the police and ending up quite literally on the backhand of Daniel, her foster father.

Finally fed up with the constant control and physical abuse, she ran away from home in the middle of the night and never looked back since. She ended up here in the city after hitching a ride with a trucker, tired, hungry, penniless, and desperately in need of a place to rest. For the time being, she's slept under the bridge in the park and lived off whatever money she made being a street performer.

Personality:



"Yeah, I'm a bitch. Deal with it."

Cynical, moody, and sarcastic, rarely does Liz speak, but when she does, she's not afraid to tell you what's on her mind. She's usually a cool and collected person, but you rub her the wrong way, you only have yourself to blame for that black eye you got. She hates bullies and absolutely despises snobby, stuck up people. Liz is a music lover at heart, but only certain types of music since she absolutely despises pop music. She also occasionally smokes marijuana. There is a kinder, more gentle side to Liz, but it is rarely seen.

Skills:
Other than playing guitar, nothing really.

Hobbies:
Skateboarding, playing guitar, getting high, listening to music, photography, napping constantly, drinking lots of coffee



*sigh* "I needed this."~ =u=

Other:

-She's allergic to cats

-Not only can she can play guitar. She can also play piano.

-In addition to her other tattoos, Liz also has on the left side of her neck two laughing skulls and "Memento Morii" in fancy lettering trailing around her left arm.



"Okay, now that you know everything about me, go away."

On the Streets

Chapter 1: An Odd Friend

"Your sorry eyes
They cut through the bone
They make it hard
To leave you alone..."

The city was rather quiet this time of day, no car alarms and sirens blaring off in the distance, no horns honking and raucous shouts of road rage sounding from the nearby interstate, nothing. It was weird to her to hear such things, to be able to hear the cool autumn breeze whip through the abandoned alleyway, the soft, gentle whisper of impending winter, the little chirps and chimes of songbirds and pigeons flocking to their nests to prepare for the cold snap ever encroaching. And of course...there was the other sound she loved to hear so much... She strummed her guitar softly with her pick, her fingers gracefully moving up the frets and playing every chord precisely, closing her eyes and singing to herself, letting the music take her...elsewhere.

"Leave you here
Wearing your wounds
Waving your guns
At somebody new..."

The man sitting beside her in the alley, a grizzled looking thirty-year old with tired, bloodshot eyes and five o clock shadow, only a pair of dirty, ripped up Arizona blue jeans, a dull gray beanie atop his head, and an M-65 olive green field jacket to shield him from the brisk air, sighed listening to her melody in peace. He seemed to enjoy the music quite a bit, given the gentle smile etching across his hard, dry features. The second verse though...his eyes misted over a bit upon hearing hit, his calloused, rugged hand reaching into his jacket to caress a pair of old, rusty dog tags, but a piece of his dismal past. Two bits of metal that read: MICHAEL J. WINTERBOURNE, UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS. AFGHANISTAN; 2006

"Baby you're lost
Baby you're lost
Baby you're a lost cause.

I'm tired of fighting, yeah
I'm tired of fighting
Fighting for a lost cause..."

And with a last, resonating strum of the strings, her last lyric sung, she sighed and set her guitar aside. "...Wow." Was all Mike had to say. He stood up, giving a nice applause clapping his hands together, his smile a bit wider now than his usual wry expression. "Not bad, kid. So that's how you scored fifteen easy. Here I was thinking you were hooking or slinging dope."

"What? Fuck no." Liz chuckled pulling the hood of her jacket up over her head. "I ain't that fucking desperate. I just started playing my guitar and then...people just gave me money. I didn't really think it was that good."

"You kidding?" Mike laughed, his hand falling hard on her shoulder, though he meant well. "You got some talent, kid. Don't sell yourself short. People like music. It keeps their mind off things, or...it helps them remember..." His voice trailed off somewhat, his smile fading slightly. Liz furrowed her brows, her eyes filling a tad with concern. "Shit. Hey man, I didn't mean to..."

Mike shook his head. "It's all good, Liz." He murmured wringing his hands together to keep them warm. "My time in the Corps, Afghanistan...it's part of who I am now. Can't change that, even if I wanted to." He looked over at Liz, his smile starting to return. Liz smiled as well. "Hey, I'm gonna go grab something to eat. You want anything?" She said staggering to her feet and dusting herself off.

"Just a cup of coffee and a few donuts." He replied. "Watch your back out there, kid. Gangs have been getting bad lately. Some poor ass got his head blown off just the other day for walking on their turf."

"I'll be alright."

"I mean it, kid. You be careful."

"And you lay off the booze." Liz smarted back, but in good spirits. Mike, of course he knew he killed a bottle of Jack every day, so he just shrugged it off. Liz was one to always poke his sides. The girl ambled away down the alley, disappearing from his sight behind a brick wall.

The city, only 8:30 in the morning and it was just starting to come alive. The laughter of children, about the only shred of innocence left in the dingy ghetto, could be heard as buses pulled up to take them to school, a stark contrast to the sounds of distant gunshots, police sirens, and heavy bass speakers blasting hip-hop's finest throughout the city streets. Not to mention the average drone of a jet flying over about to land at the nearby airport. Twas a dangerous place, the city, but still...she would rather be here than where she was before.

Claymore Academy (always accepting)

Gonna post tomorrow. Can't think of a good one right now -___-

Metalheart

@Fubsy

~"Marcella...."~ Daniella sighed, her fake smile, fake happiness, having gone from her....leaving only her face broken and bereaved. Who was she trying to fool? Who was she trying to deceive, when she knew well her friend could see past the false white mask she adorned to hide the inner turmoil? Then again...how could she hide such...when it was oh so evident? ~"Marcella..."~ And all too soon, as she saw the concern welling in the Italian's eyes, Daniella knew...she couldn't hide it any more. The mask...had cracked. In that instant, it all came crashing down upon her...once again. She fell to her knees, her beautiful crimson dress crumpling all around her, burying her face in her hands and sobbing without pause. ~"Marcella...I....I loved him!"~ She said it... With that very ill, heartfelt whimper upon her quivering lips...she said it, what she had wanted to say to Max all along...and even more. But, the sands of time had run out, the gears of fate shifting in opposite directions, taking Maxwell away to live the life of a metalheart and her...to continue wallowing in the vehement excesses of the rich and the famous.

Try as she may to even reach out to him, it would be for naught. The rich weren't meant to mingle with the poor and vice versa. Her parents, the community, even the city watch would do all they could to prevent Daniella from seeing Maxwell just one last time...or even speaking to him. It was over, and she knew it, so why even lie to herself anymore....