| |
Neutral
|
Please do not post here unless you have been accepted into the RP, thank you!LinksSign-upsDiscussionHeaderInclude at least these things when postingName | Species | Rank | MentionsExampleSylvester Harman | Vampire | Subordinate | Mentions: N/AWhere to StartIt has been roughly two weeks since the series of killings has happened. The vampires are still mourning their losses. The werewolves will be stocking up food for battle (if it is ordered), and the vampires will be doing some minimal hunting as everyone is in an upset mood. For the most part, it's pretty open. The weather is partly cloudy, possible rain showers.The time of day is late morning. |
|
|
| |
Lightbringer
|
Tori O'Connor | Werewolf | Hunter | Mentions: Open, anyone else that is up. Some would say it wouldn't be normal to find the young woman standing in the kitchen working on breakfast for the rest of the pack. Her bright crimson hair was pulled into a loose braid that rested over her left shoulder that was exposed from the oversized jersey t-shirt that she was wearing. Her shirt choice also left it to question if she was wearing shorts underneath it, which she was. Her glasses were skillfully staying upon her nose as she danced to the music that was playing through her headphones. The smell of freshly cooking bacon began to fill the air as she continued happily enjoying her own little peace and quiet for a few moments. Normally she would have gone back to bed or at least be laying on her couch after jogging earlier in the morning but it seemed as though she was going to have an extra spurt of energy for the day. Her phone happily sat next to a steaming cup of hot chocolate, she just can't stand the taste of coffee but doesn't care if others drink it around her. Her bare feet padded around the linolium floor as she worked moving between exchanging cooked bacon and working on the french toast that sat waiting patiently in another pan. One would think watching the woman work that she would either be completely covered in ingredients with a giant mess but that wasn't Tori. She was raised to be pristine and even with her sporadic dancing, managed to keep up with cleaning after herself. Tori leaned against the counter as she picked up her drink and pulled out an earbud, setting it next to her phone as she looked around keen to see if anyone else was up within their home. It felt a little too quiet for the female expecially after the recent attacks on the vampires. A part of her was grateful that it hadn't been werewolves but there was still a sinking feeling that it could also still happen to them. Her music pausing and playing some random ringtone pulled the female from her musing as her hues looked towards the screen raising an eyebrow before ignoring the call. "If it is important they will leave a message. Not important won't and I won't call them back." She waited until her music started playing once more before setting her cup down and moving back over to the two pans that were in current use. |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Lucia-Grace Black "Lucy" | Werewolf | Alpha Werewolf | Cybele (indirectly), Tori (directly); Open She had nightmares last night that woke her too early in the morning, before the faintest glimmers of sunlight had pierced through the dark canvas above. Blood and warefare, that's what she saw in it; her own, dead, surrounding her with eyes open and glossy and lifeless. The vampires had closed in on where she had stood, and for the first time in a long time, she had felt entirely hopeless. She didn't care if they killed her at all anymore, and her knees had buckled in defeat. Her downward fall was long and exaggerated in her dream, it felt like it alone had taken hours. Eventually, her knees had ached from the rough impact with the ground. Lucy's eyes had brokenly flitted upwards to see Cybele standing before her in the fog, with her green eyes bright and evilly glowing, and pupils elongated into cat-like slits. The vampire had smiled hauntingly downward at her, with a mutual understanding that Lucy had been bested. Blood dripped from the vampire's mouth and over her lower lip, and Lucy watched as a droplet had fallen from her jaw and into the depths of the snow-covered ground. The red leeched outwards, propelling like veins in the snow, protruding outward in Lucy's direction. The cries of her lifeless packmates had rung in her ears violently, screaming her name out in agony, causing the woman to clutch both sides of her head and scream herself while tears shed down her cheeks. The last thing she remembered from the nightmare was Cybele's hand stretching outwards, with her fingertips coiling like snakes around her throat, and the deep feeling of dread that her touch had caused. Lucy had awoken to the sharp and adrenaline-fogged feeling of herself shifting. The dream had been too painful, and the Alpha had instinctively transformed from the fear of it all. It took her a few seconds to realize what was happening, that it had all been a dream, and that she was now a large creature hovering atop her now pitifully creaking bedframe. The wolf's back arched and head shook to shake away the fright of it all, nostrils flaired as she frantically breathed. Her eyes had glanced out the window beside her bed, seeing the fog above the moon. She and her family were okay, for now. ... It had taken her a more than a few moments to collect herself and realize that she couldn't fall asleep again. She had returned to her humanoid state and rubbed her scarred face with the backside of her hand, disappointed that the day had to start this way yet again. Since the murders, Lucy's dreams had been routinely, vividly horrific. They all shared a common theme; death. It wasn't always the wolves that perished in them, in fact, more often than not, her pack were the victors. There had been at least half a dozen dreams of their assault on the vampires - viciously grabbing the vampire's heads with their maws and twisting until they broke free from their shoulders until not one was left alive. There was always some conflict in them between her and Cybele as well, where they would lock eyes with a mutual understanding that only one of them would survive their encounters. As much as she believed that a peaceful deal could be made with the vampires, Lucy was fearful that her dreams were warning her that blood would soon be shed. Quietly, Lucy had grabbed a simple black jacket from her nightstand and tugged it over her buffalo plaid pajamas before migrating downstairs and towards the kitchen. She had grabbed her favorite mug and groggily fixed herself up some coffee to start the day. From there, the Alpha had migrated back to her bedroom and sat on the corner of her bed. She wasn't entirely sure how long she had been there, weighing everything over in her mind, before she had heard the sound of footfalls in the house. The noise brought her instant comfort in knowing that she wasn't alone now, and a small smile twitched the corners of her lips upwards as she sipped at the remains of her now cold coffee. She rolled her shoulders and stared at the bottom of her mug for a moment, deeply sighing to relieve some of the tension, before scooting off of the bedside and heading for the kitchen. Her stomach growled as she smell of bacon immediately filled her lungs, and only grew stronger the closer she got towards the stovetop. She wasn't surprised to see Tori there as she rounded the corner and into the kitchen as quietly as she could manage. She immediately smiled, seeing her friend. "Morning," Lucy greeted and gave a little wave of her hand, noting Tori's headphones. She could hear muffled music, but couldn't quite make out what she was hearing. The Alpha leaned partially against the counter, with her empty coffee cup in one hand, and her chin resting on her other hand. "What are you making?" Lucy asked, leaning inward to check out what was cooking. |
|  |
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Kyran Blake | Vampire | Defective | Nobody Directly; Open He had been nose deep in a book for the past few hours, sitting on the furthest and most secluded nook of the sofa in the living room as possible. Reading was what kept him occupied most of the time, when he wasn't feeling absolutely feral, that is. Kyran had been refusing to leave the home for the past few days, as, once outdoors, the cravings for human blood felt significantly more intense. He had compared it to a shark frenzying, but amplified by a thousand. It was the most primal feeling he had ever felt in his life, in the absolute worst way possible. Being a new vampire was proving challenging for Kyran, and he still deeply hungered for human blood. He had been trying to obey his clan as much as possible, but his loyalties were not particularly strong yet with or towards anyone. For the most part, Kyran had been playing by the house rules, but kept to himself as much as he possibly could. He had no belongings aside for a tattered and quite ugly backpack, and its contents were unknown but seemingly mundane. He had a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird, which was so worn that some of the pages were no longer connected to the binder of the book, but merely set inside to keep it organized. This is what he was currently reading, and was nearly finished up with it by this point in the morning. He cleared his throat a bit as his fingertips skimmed the edges of the paper, but his throat felt painfully dry, and the man bursted into a loud fit of coughs. |
| |
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
⚜ Vivian W. || Vampire || Subordinate || Mentions: None, open
Though there was plenty of life still wandering about the manor, its walls seemed so much quieter now.
The subordinate ran his comb through freshly washed locks, his eyes having fallen shut after another night of little sleep threatened to best him. Rest didn’t seem to come easily these days, now that his bed was half-empty. Perhaps he’d take a trip into town and scope out all of the tips and cures that the humans had for sleeplessness. With how long he’d been holed up within his bedroom on his lonesome, he doubted his peers would even notice he was gone.
A rouge of embarrassment blossomed along Vivian's cheeks upon catching himself mid-pity party. His reflection seemed equally disappointed in him as he propped his eyes back open, naught but contempt swimming about in his otherwise dismal gaze. Selfishness was not a good color on him, that was for certain. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d made eye-contact with someone, let alone held up his end of a conversation- coldly shutting his people out when he wasn’t the only one who was grieving. Well then! That was enough wallowing about in these self-made pits of despair for one lifetime.
He began rifling through his closet in hopes of finding something that’d make him feel. . . well, anything, honestly. The weather was so somber already, so black was out of the question unless he wanted to look like some old-timey widow with nothing better to do than fish for compliments. His eyes eventually fell upon a silk shirt that he didn’t even remember purchasing—its high collar, ruffled front, and three-button cuffs were very stereotypically vampire and certainly not of this century, but he supposed that if he was to finally reemerge from this depressive cocoon of his, he might as well do it in style. A dramatic entrance is good for the soul.
Now, one must keep in mind that the entire concept of “casual dress” was not something Vivian Whitewater was familiar with, so pairing this 19th century top with a pair of high-waisted, form-fitting dress pants and a pair of diamond studs was clearly his only viable option, even whilst considering he had no plans to go anywhere other than downstairs. He simply refused to be caught looking anything other than his best.
As he stood before his vanity and admired his reflection, the vampire was pleased to find that playing a little dress-up put a portion of his usual glow back into his features. Or perhaps it was the idea of finding someone to chat with again that had him so lively after so long; he was never one to grieve even his most personal matters in private, truthfully, and was quick to discover that isolating himself only worsened his woes. He did fear that his peers were the type to keep this sort of misery to themselves—vampires were notorious for their brooding, you know!—and that he’d find no willing participants to confide in, but at this point, he would dare to settle even for measly small-talk. Even an outright rejection to his pain would be better than this melodramatic, self-inflicted loneliness.
With this newfound confidence of his, Vivian rightened his posture, tied up his hair, and left his bedroom for what felt like the first time in centuries. Time to mingle with what was left of the masses.
───────────────────────────
➤ Amadeus D. || Werewolf || Beta || Mentions: Tori, Lucia, open
After being catapulted into his bestial form upon proving to be no match for his own hunger, Amadeus awoke feeling like nothing short of roadkill.
The pack's disgruntled beta grumbled curse, prayer, and curse again as he picked the remnants of last night’s hunger-derived shenanigans from his teeth. His vision was blurry, his hair was a mess, and he smelled like he’d spent the better half of the night rolling about in a moose carcass—the picture of class and power, obviously, and the perfect example to set for his impressionable inferiors. One could not imagine how relieved he was that there was no one here to see him like this.
After scrubbing the evidence of his ante-dawn crimes from his skin and nearly drowning himself in mouthwash to rid his tongue of the taste of death incarnate, Amadeus trod down the stairs in a tee one size too small and sweats two sizes too big. Well, truthfully it was more like an awkward half-limp—a small price to pay to ensure the pack’s reserves would be adequately stocked, surely, but unfathomably embarrassing nonetheless. Cold showers did little against the reshaping of muscle and bone and back again.
Given that he only used his hunger to catch his prey rather than consuming it for himself, the smell of freshly cooked food had the half-past starved brute more than ecstatic. There was nothing quite like bacon and coffee to cure a preternatural hangover. Not to mention the fact that he was essentially running on an empty tank; even the mere suggestion of his usual morning run beneath the canopy sounded daunting. And with the threat of war now hanging over their heads, he could not afford running into any outsiders in this condition.
It did hurt him, truthfully—the situation with the vampires. Given that one of his closest comrades was sitting across the border, he feared what might come of their friendship should the groups fail to resolve their impending conflict.
Luckily, before he could end up diving too far into that line of thinking and cause himself any more stress, Amadeus was on the ground floor and peering into the kitchen where he found his sole superior and one of the pack's hunters.
"Morning," greeted the beta without inching any further forward. You know, in case he was interrupting something.
|
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Amber Welsh || Female || Werewolf || Hunter || Mentions: Tori, Lucia, Amadeus It was late morning, the sun was just barely reaching out over the trees, a cold chill remaining in the air. A young woman was walking back home from her morning walk, dressed in a grey-tank top, black shorts, and a pair of silver and white sneakers. She had been out for a few hours now, yet there was no sweat or anything of the sort to indicate that she had woken up mere hours ago. In both of ears, was a black pair of earbuds, connected to a small phone that was tucked away in her side pockets, playing music. Music kept her focused on one thing at a time, and sometimes it was like a little world to her, were she could express her feelings without hurting others or herself, a place were she could scream at the top of her lungs and no one would care. She listened to music quite frequently, whether or not she was being spoken to did not matter, most of the time, there was an earbud in her ear if not two. As Amber neared home, a lovely smell of food made its way to Amber, and she inhaled the smell, exhaling with a soothing pleasure. She slowed to a stop, rubbing her hands together, a small smile on her face. The smell of bacon only made her want it more, and hungrier, and on that note, she set off in quick jog, making it home only minutes later. She walked up to the front porch, and scuffed teh bottom of her sneakers against the wood, attempting to get rid of any trace of dirt or mud. Half-successful, Amber walked in, not bothering to kick her sneakers off at the door, her hunger was just too much, not when she could smell bacon. Entering the kitchen, she noticed the Alpha, Beta and Tori had already made their ways in, the lovely smell of bacon growing stronger, "Mm, bacon," she whispered, making herself at home she walked on over to the pan, and reached in, snatching two pieces of bacon plopping them into her mouth. Yes, her Alpha was there, and probably saw what she was doing, but eh. It was food, and there was enough for everyone.... hopefully. As she chewed, she closed her eyes, nodding slowly, "Good stuff," she spoke, swallowing the delicious meat. She sucked on her fingers, licking off the grease, then proceeding to wipe it off on a paper towel she ripped off the counter, tossing it in the garbage barrel opposite of her. Amber licked her lips once, then twice, rubbing her hands together, glancing over at the fridge. Without any sounds, Amber stalked towards the fridge, opening it quietly, reaching in, grabbing a soda, closing the door. She popped the cap off, tossing the cap in the garbage, plopping down on a chair against the wall. She took a sip, then another, and another, and looked over at Tori, finally realizing she was the one making the food, "So.. whats for breakfest?" |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Cybele Pastrana | Vampire | Leader | M: Open - Cybele had always been a demure girl. Patient, kind, but all around angelic in personality. She never spoke up, and tend to swallow negative emotions down her throat. She was, by all means, the most agreeable person. She loved her simple books, her simple flowers, and her simple life. If an outsider were to walk past Cybele, one might notice how pristine her appearance and personality was, but see nothing out of the ordinary. There was nothing out of the ordinary about Cybele--well, at least on the outside. - Ever since integrating back into daily human life, she made ends meet by hosting a little flower shop. Small and quaint, and rarely bustling with activity. She loved the fact it was so hidden away from the rest of the city, like a little charm that only residents to the area were familiar with. She used the money she made while running the shop to support her little vampire covet. - There was an open area in the front of the shop--a large two-way window that put many of the exotic flowers up front. To showcase her incredible boquet wrapping abilities, Cybele would wrap her orchids up with velvet bows and glistening papers, then hoist them on the highest shelf up front to decorate the exterior of the shop. Alongside the flowers, she'd lace the wooden "OPEN" sign out front with fairy lights, and do the same to the interior of the shop. The inside was quite homely, covered in rugs, mats, and small seating areas for frequenters to sit and enjoy the energy of the flower shop. - That day, Cybele was running on a lazy schedule. Clean the draining system for the dahlias, fix the broken succulent pots, and carry out some orders that had been placed for a wedding a few weeks ago. She stood awkwardly at the front desk near the door, tapping her fingers rhytmically in bordeom. |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Neco Kage || Werewolf || Newbie || Mentions: Tori | Amber | Lucy | Amadeus (all indirect) The night was restless for the poor boy, as he was up all night, ordering food and eating. Stuffing his face in a frantic attempt to finally be full, but satiety never came. His hunger seemed to be more ravenous after every meal and at some point, Neco tied himself to his bed with some rope. It bound his legs and neck so he would choke everytime he attempted to get up, which worked for the time being. He had just closed his eyes when he realized that his room had become brighter, and he groaned. He grabbed his phone and looked at the time, feeling defeated that yet again, another night of sleep had evaded him. He looked bleakly at his ceiling, wishing that he hadn't been cursed to be this..this..this beast. Despair hit him as he zoned out, mind wandering on what he would do. It didn't take long however, because he began to smell bacon and his stomach gave out a loud and deep growl, wrenching in hunger despite the fact he had eaten a few hours ago. Mouth watering immediately, he lurched upward only to be stopped by his makeshift leash. He grabbed it and yanked, snapping the rope and scrambled out of his bed. The only thing that was on his mind was to eat. He was racing through the halls and ran out the door, forgetting about the stairs that were there. When his foot hit nothing but air, Neco screeched as he fell down the stairs, rolling down like a loose tire. He faceplanted at the bottom and sighed. He felt like giving the hell up and calling it quits, but his voracious hunger did not call it quits. It hit him twice as hard and he whimpered and whined, his face twisting into a grimace as he clutched his gut. He rolled onto his side, pain englufing him like a raging fire and he cried out, gasping for air as the shift began to take over. "RaaRRAAgggHHgHh" he roared out, pain torturing his every movement and he could do nothing but scream and thrash, until he had become a hideous creature. He pounced towards the door of the main house and bacon immediately filled his nose and he cried out, forgetting for a brief moment that doorknobs exist. He barked, whined and scratched at the door until he looked down and turned the knob. The door opened and his knees almost buckled. He rushed in, the fact that he was a towering creature somehow missed him. He immediately crashed into the doorframe, but the lower half of his body kept going, throwing him inside and he slightly slid while a loud thud echoed throughout the mansion. "FUCKING BULLSHITTING STAIRS AND DUMBASS DOORFRAME!" He cursed, getting up as a humanoid again. Holding his head, he death glared the doorframe before remembering the bacon. His head whipped in the direction and he made a beeline, sorta. Limping slightly, he made his way to the kitchen, where the end of the rope got caught on the corner of a cupboard. Neco was too busy rushing that he failed to notice, arms reaching out for the bacon. A hairs breathe away from touching it, the rope pulled taunt and a loud "HURK" came from Neco as he took two steps back, slightly coughing. Looking back, he deadpanned and sighed. |
|
|
| |
Lightbringer
|
Tori O'Connor | Werewolf | Hunter | Mentions: Lucy, Amadeus, Amber, and Neco (d), Ellie and Ian (i) The song that had been playing through the female's earbuds was Acapulco by Jason Derulo when the Alpha and Beta walked in. "Morning Lucy and Amadeus." She had almost jumped out of her skin at Lucy's words if she hadn't seen the slight wave out of the corner of her eye. She was just setting in the second piece of french toast that she was going to cook and turned to look at Amadeus and motion for him to enter the kitchen. "Everyone is welcome." She offered a warm smile to the pair as she pushed her glasses up to rest on the top of her head. As much as she really should keep them in front of her eyes, Tori was a little more self conscious about her glasses or better her bad eyesight without them. Most of the time she wore her contacts but this morning her eyes had felt more irritated than normal and she wanted to give them a rest. When Amber walked in and stole a couple of the pieces of bacon, a low snarl left Tori but it was followed by an eyeroll as she looked back to the items that she was cooking. Thankfully she had put a couple of plates in the over keeping some of the bacon and french toast that she had prepared a few minutes earlier were staying warm. She was about to answer the burning question of what was for breakfast but she stopped when Neco crashed into the kitchen. Tori raised an eyebrow before looking between the other three that were also currently witnesses as she pulled her glasses down over her eyes. "First off, Are you okay Neco? Second, I am making French Toast." Her Irish accent danced with her words as she turned towards the oven and grabbed a pot holder and reached in pulling out the two partially full plates. "Please help yourselves but we should probably release Neco as well? I will keep making more until everyone has come down or you need me to do something else Lucy." Her back was still towards the others but she made sure to flip the current french toast pieces before looking over at Neco. "Not to pry but is there a particular reason as to why there is a rope trailing you?" A genuine question that led to another one directed towards everyone. "Has anyone heard from Ellie or Ian yet this morning?" Ellie and Ian were the other two of the newbie werewolves and Tori deep down worried for all three of them. Yes that included Neco who at the moment she was worrying about his thought processes. |
|
|
| |
Lightbringer
|
Drey Williamson | Vampire | Subordinate | Mentions: Open/Kyran, Vivian. Cyb (i) The male was currently laying on the dark blue, silk sheets that covered his bed with one hand resting behind his dark tresses. His brightly colored eyes were watching the light of the morning begin to make its way across the dark ceiling. His eyes closed with a low groan before he sat up, letting the light begin to work its way along the lines on his back. As the male stood, he ran both hands through his shoulder length hair before moving over to his dressor and slipped a dark grey t-shirt over his scarred torso. Once the cotton fabric was settled against his frame, Drey picked up the brush and quickly ran it through his hair before pulling it back into a loose ponytail that sat at the base of his head. Drey looked down at his dark red pj pants and debated if he should put on a pair of jeans but shrugged against the idea and moved towards his door. The recent attacks were weighing heavily on the male's mind and he wouldn't outright express that he was not impressed with their current leader. Mainly due to her young age compared to his. Of course he would do as he was asked but there was always the doubts in his mind that had only been heightened after the deaths. He felt deeply for the loss of those precious to the others but it had also solidified his reasoning for never wanting to get close to someone again like that. Seeing the pain written in the features and actions of his comrades had shaken him to his core. Drey was lost enough in his own thoughts that he almost missed Kyran sitting in the corner of the living room. He only offered a curt wave before disappearing into the kitchen. He began to make a pot of coffee and set about getting his specific ingrediants for his drink. He carefully measured out his flavored creamer and sugar before pouring in the dark warm liquid once it had finished. He was carrying the mug full of the dark liquid out of the kitchen when he noticed Vivian. After taking a sip, Drey offered a wave before moving over to the couch and sat down trying to just enjoy a few more moments of possible quiet. "Morning to you two." |
|
|
Winter 
Day Weather: 
