Earlymorninstar
[Jersey Girl]
Hello everyone!
Been here for a little while and am open to a few more role plays. I suppose I have an insatiable hunger to write and although I love all my partners, I still have a bit of room for a few more. :3
A bit about me: I have an obsession with writing - as most know. I can pump out a ton of paragraphs or can go as short as a couple. It all depends on my partner and their expectations. I will not do one-liners, however, and if that's your sort of thing, then I'm afraid we won't work out as partners. I'm going to warn everyone now that I tend to be wordy on occasion (as you will see by some of my introductions included in this post) and I try to stay that way through most of the role play. Eventually, I will adapt to my partner's length and work with them if it's too much for them to read.
Also - I tend to write darker themes. I love the dark aspect of things, the gritty realities that others are too afraid to talk about. Sure, I like romance just as much as the next, but I have a thing with forbidden love - a thing where two people are meant to hate each other and through that tension, sprouts something. Whether or not it's just a small spark, but it takes work. It isn't something so easy where all of the sudden they wake up and are madly in love with each other.
Smut is welcome - I'm looking for more of a story line than smut, but as long as it goes along with what we're building, then I'm all for it! I don't fade to black, nor do I hold back. I have very few limits - most of which are most people's (scat, gore, all that messy sort of stuff). Everything else is pretty much welcome, feel free to ask!
My females tend to be a bit adventurous and bitchy. The sort of women who like to get their way and know how to get it. They need quite the certain type of male to conquer them. ;) Definitely switches more than dominant or submissive.
I'm super active -- If I'm not on my laptop I'm usually on my phone. Love to post multiple times a day and am very patient as far as my partner's pace. However, if you are going to go on haitus for a while, please tell me. Also, if we aren't meshing, please don't disappear. I'd rather talk it out before having everything dropped. This is my BIGGEST pet peeve. You see how I write, you see my intros, if this isn't your thing, please don't agree to start an RP with me and then disappear...
ANYHOO. I think I covered a bunch of it. So please see below for things I'm looking for at the moment. Also, if you don't see anything you like, or anything that particularly calls out to you, feel free to shoot some ideas my way. I'm very open to anything anyone has in mind -- I'll definitely let you know if it isn't my cup of tea.
BOLD signifies what character I would like to play.
*** Signifies what I'm currently craving
Vampires:
I'm open to quite a few pairings or ideas in this genre. Here's a few that I have ready to go.
Clara Emerson is my character who will be involved with these first two pairings.
Fledgling (F) x Sire (M) ***
Some people seem confused about this. The Sire is the person who has changed their fledgling into a vampire.
Fledgling (F) x Tutor (M)
The tutor will be a vampire or someone immortal who has taken my character in and essentially "shown her the ropes".
The world is hard, the world is mean
It's hard to keep your conscience clean...
Hatred...
It was such a futile thing and yet it held such power all in the same. It had the capability to consume the soul; to engulf a person entirely and control every little move and action that they could ever think to make. Hatred was a driving force that no one could hide from, no matter how hard they tried. At least, that's what Clara believed...
It had drifted through her veins and heated her with a flame that would possibly never die out. It forced her out of bed every single night; forced her through the town and down to the very spot where it all began - where she re-lived every bit of what drove her to its existence. She would never hide from it, nor could she manage even if she tried. It lifted off of each breath, dripped off of every spoken word, and existed not only on her gaze, but also dwelled deep within whatever heart that she might have had left. Yet, maybe her hatred was not as futile as it could have seemed. Hers had reason and meaning behind it - a hard and heavy meaning; One that only her, her sire, and the man who had brought her in had known. To everyone else, she was the hard bitch in town who disassociated herself with nearly everyone and mistreated her tutor every moment she could.
Her steps fell heavy on the cobblestone beneath her as she breathed in the salty and warm night air. It was all so very familiar and left a horribly bitter taste in her mouth. 'We'll only be here for a short while,' he said... 'Don't get worked up, Clara, darling...' Fuck him. Leave it to her tutor to bring her right back where it all began, as if she could simply move on and ignore the hard truth that lingered and haunted her down every street. He promised her that he only needed to retrieve a few odds and ends from his estate and to ensure that the land had been taken care of in his absence. Once he was satisfied, they could go.
If only it was that easy.
Why the hell did he think she would be able to keep herself in once piece there? Why the fuck did he think she would be alright; that she wouldn't hold on to a false hope that was held somewhere deep, deep inside; a hope that even she, herself, denied? To her, it had only been a hope to get her hands on that bastard once more and rip him into as many pieces as he had done to her heart that night -- But then again, perhaps it was something much, much more than that.
Her heels clicked much more loudly than she'd ever expected, but it had been late enough that no one other than the street rats and the young party-goers of the night would hear; if they even could through the haze of liquor and booze that hung off their bodies. Her lips twisted in disdain as she brushed them all by, headed deeper into town and towards the border - where cobblestone met wood and where wood met sand. The salty air blew through loose tendrils of her hair that had been continuously held tight in pins and curls. For that one moment she allowed her eyes to shut as that same breeze engulfed her, lifting her skirts from her ankles. It felt so wonderful and so horrible all in the same, for it was that very breeze interlaced with the sounds and smells of the ocean and sand that had sent her back immediately. It had been that realization that had caused her to roughly kick her heels off and sink her feet into the cool sand as she began her decent onto the beach.
The sea is calm, the sea is gray -
it washes everything away.
Clara Emerson... Sweet, sweet Clara Emerson. Where had that girl gone? Where had she been lost to so very long ago?
It had been there, right on that very beach. It had been there where she'd been robbed of her innocence in those few simple and fleeting moments. There, where she believed every lie that he could have told her, all because she had once been yearning for an escape. Oh, and what an escape he had given her. And yet, even then she was left alone with nothing but turmoil -- she still could not find the answers that she sought desperately.
"You listen to me girl. I have given you ample time. I have given you the freedom that other girls your age would never dare to dream of. You are going to allow the Duke to court you beginning tomorrow, and you will marry him.I will not have our family disgraced any longer. Do you hear me?"
She'd been a daughter of privilege, it had been true. Clara had at once been given the world, but it was not enough for her; it had hardly been enough. She had dreams that no other girl could imagine; dreams of far off places; dreams that were held within books that no one else would read. The girl had been found more than once, stealing away in her father's library, keeping herself up for nights on end reading and absorbing any exciting new ideas that she could. And yet, there was no one to share it with; no one to speak to about it, because the fact of the matter was, she wasn't supposed to speak. No matter how many boys had some along, no matter how many men had come along, each were more content with her silence than her words. What man would want their wife to have more of an opinion than they do on any subject? It simply was unheard of.
And the years came and the years went and Clara had found no one suitable enough for her. Yet, in the very end it wasn't her decision. The townspeople had begun to talk; she'd heard the hushed murmurs of the wives and girls, wondering what was wrong with little Miss. Emerson - that she could not fetch a husband for herself.
"Well, she is quite odd, do you not think? The poor dear locks herself away at night."
"Do you hear what she talks about? She lives in a man's world... No one wants that!"
"Perhaps she's barren... She is getting old enough. No one wants an old wife!"
It was a disgrace and her father had all at once left her in shambles that very last night; so much so that she felt the need to finally find her escape. She would rather run away and feed herself to the wolves than to be subjected to silence in a marriage that she did not yet want. So, Clara left; she stole away into the darkness that night under a heavy cloak with nowhere to go and no plan to follow. She simply walked and kept walking until she felt that she could walk no more. No one was around; no one had been there... She would be fine and she would be safe - no one would miss her.
Her steps had eventually slowed sometime along the night while her thoughts and heart had begun to race over what she'd actually done. Should someone come and find her, Clara had no idea what her father would do - nor did she want to dwell on it. She didn't have time to dwell on it either as a shape came into view up ahead of her and her heart had practically stopped. Someone was there; perhaps someone to come and take her home...
Yet, what had confused her the most had been the fact that she'd felt that overwhelming fear for only a fleeting moment before she was consumed with an odd sense of calm; she had felt drawn and curious - something she couldn't quite explain for the life of her. The man before her, as he drew closer, had been not only mesmerizing, but it was as if he consumed her soul all at once and she had let him.
Clara would eventually regret everything that happened that night, but she could have never known. All she knew in those few hours were of the conversations that she'd always wished she could have with the men in town. They spoke of distant lands, of sciences and math, of things she'd read and theorized about, but was never able to express. Everything she could ever want, she saw within him in those short hours. Perhaps that was why she had given herself over so very easily; why she suddenly felt the sand beneath her in a heated tousle of skin and fabric. She felt herself lost in him more than she could ever become lost in a person; from the sensations he gave her, to her racing heart, to the aching in her belly - she needed him and she wanted him.
And he gave her every bit of it... But he took much more than she could ever give him.
The pain had been fleeting before it became blinding, laced with the pleasure that still surged throughout her body. She at once became weak before she became overwhelmed, writhing on the sand before she felt him leave her... And he would not return.
Sink into the deep, cool and blue and kind-
Then drift off to sleep; let the past unwind.
Had it not been for her tutor that night, she would have died on that very beach come morning. Her sire had stolen away every bit of her innocence within moments and left her with an immortality that she had never wanted. Her fingers came up to trace the velvet ribbon held tightly around her neck before they clasped the emerald that hung carefully from it. Other than her immortality, it was the only fucking thing she had left of him; his mark. No matter how much she convinced herself to throw it in the ocean and be done with it all, she never could. He was still alive; something within her knew it very well.
And she would fucking kill him herself.
The question was, did he even remember her? And furthermore... would he ever reveal himself to her again?
Leave the hurt behind.
It's hard to keep your conscience clean...
Hatred...
It was such a futile thing and yet it held such power all in the same. It had the capability to consume the soul; to engulf a person entirely and control every little move and action that they could ever think to make. Hatred was a driving force that no one could hide from, no matter how hard they tried. At least, that's what Clara believed...
It had drifted through her veins and heated her with a flame that would possibly never die out. It forced her out of bed every single night; forced her through the town and down to the very spot where it all began - where she re-lived every bit of what drove her to its existence. She would never hide from it, nor could she manage even if she tried. It lifted off of each breath, dripped off of every spoken word, and existed not only on her gaze, but also dwelled deep within whatever heart that she might have had left. Yet, maybe her hatred was not as futile as it could have seemed. Hers had reason and meaning behind it - a hard and heavy meaning; One that only her, her sire, and the man who had brought her in had known. To everyone else, she was the hard bitch in town who disassociated herself with nearly everyone and mistreated her tutor every moment she could.
Her steps fell heavy on the cobblestone beneath her as she breathed in the salty and warm night air. It was all so very familiar and left a horribly bitter taste in her mouth. 'We'll only be here for a short while,' he said... 'Don't get worked up, Clara, darling...' Fuck him. Leave it to her tutor to bring her right back where it all began, as if she could simply move on and ignore the hard truth that lingered and haunted her down every street. He promised her that he only needed to retrieve a few odds and ends from his estate and to ensure that the land had been taken care of in his absence. Once he was satisfied, they could go.
If only it was that easy.
Why the hell did he think she would be able to keep herself in once piece there? Why the fuck did he think she would be alright; that she wouldn't hold on to a false hope that was held somewhere deep, deep inside; a hope that even she, herself, denied? To her, it had only been a hope to get her hands on that bastard once more and rip him into as many pieces as he had done to her heart that night -- But then again, perhaps it was something much, much more than that.
Her heels clicked much more loudly than she'd ever expected, but it had been late enough that no one other than the street rats and the young party-goers of the night would hear; if they even could through the haze of liquor and booze that hung off their bodies. Her lips twisted in disdain as she brushed them all by, headed deeper into town and towards the border - where cobblestone met wood and where wood met sand. The salty air blew through loose tendrils of her hair that had been continuously held tight in pins and curls. For that one moment she allowed her eyes to shut as that same breeze engulfed her, lifting her skirts from her ankles. It felt so wonderful and so horrible all in the same, for it was that very breeze interlaced with the sounds and smells of the ocean and sand that had sent her back immediately. It had been that realization that had caused her to roughly kick her heels off and sink her feet into the cool sand as she began her decent onto the beach.
The sea is calm, the sea is gray -
it washes everything away.
Clara Emerson... Sweet, sweet Clara Emerson. Where had that girl gone? Where had she been lost to so very long ago?
It had been there, right on that very beach. It had been there where she'd been robbed of her innocence in those few simple and fleeting moments. There, where she believed every lie that he could have told her, all because she had once been yearning for an escape. Oh, and what an escape he had given her. And yet, even then she was left alone with nothing but turmoil -- she still could not find the answers that she sought desperately.
"You listen to me girl. I have given you ample time. I have given you the freedom that other girls your age would never dare to dream of. You are going to allow the Duke to court you beginning tomorrow, and you will marry him.I will not have our family disgraced any longer. Do you hear me?"
She'd been a daughter of privilege, it had been true. Clara had at once been given the world, but it was not enough for her; it had hardly been enough. She had dreams that no other girl could imagine; dreams of far off places; dreams that were held within books that no one else would read. The girl had been found more than once, stealing away in her father's library, keeping herself up for nights on end reading and absorbing any exciting new ideas that she could. And yet, there was no one to share it with; no one to speak to about it, because the fact of the matter was, she wasn't supposed to speak. No matter how many boys had some along, no matter how many men had come along, each were more content with her silence than her words. What man would want their wife to have more of an opinion than they do on any subject? It simply was unheard of.
And the years came and the years went and Clara had found no one suitable enough for her. Yet, in the very end it wasn't her decision. The townspeople had begun to talk; she'd heard the hushed murmurs of the wives and girls, wondering what was wrong with little Miss. Emerson - that she could not fetch a husband for herself.
"Well, she is quite odd, do you not think? The poor dear locks herself away at night."
"Do you hear what she talks about? She lives in a man's world... No one wants that!"
"Perhaps she's barren... She is getting old enough. No one wants an old wife!"
It was a disgrace and her father had all at once left her in shambles that very last night; so much so that she felt the need to finally find her escape. She would rather run away and feed herself to the wolves than to be subjected to silence in a marriage that she did not yet want. So, Clara left; she stole away into the darkness that night under a heavy cloak with nowhere to go and no plan to follow. She simply walked and kept walking until she felt that she could walk no more. No one was around; no one had been there... She would be fine and she would be safe - no one would miss her.
Her steps had eventually slowed sometime along the night while her thoughts and heart had begun to race over what she'd actually done. Should someone come and find her, Clara had no idea what her father would do - nor did she want to dwell on it. She didn't have time to dwell on it either as a shape came into view up ahead of her and her heart had practically stopped. Someone was there; perhaps someone to come and take her home...
Yet, what had confused her the most had been the fact that she'd felt that overwhelming fear for only a fleeting moment before she was consumed with an odd sense of calm; she had felt drawn and curious - something she couldn't quite explain for the life of her. The man before her, as he drew closer, had been not only mesmerizing, but it was as if he consumed her soul all at once and she had let him.
Clara would eventually regret everything that happened that night, but she could have never known. All she knew in those few hours were of the conversations that she'd always wished she could have with the men in town. They spoke of distant lands, of sciences and math, of things she'd read and theorized about, but was never able to express. Everything she could ever want, she saw within him in those short hours. Perhaps that was why she had given herself over so very easily; why she suddenly felt the sand beneath her in a heated tousle of skin and fabric. She felt herself lost in him more than she could ever become lost in a person; from the sensations he gave her, to her racing heart, to the aching in her belly - she needed him and she wanted him.
And he gave her every bit of it... But he took much more than she could ever give him.
The pain had been fleeting before it became blinding, laced with the pleasure that still surged throughout her body. She at once became weak before she became overwhelmed, writhing on the sand before she felt him leave her... And he would not return.
Sink into the deep, cool and blue and kind-
Then drift off to sleep; let the past unwind.
Had it not been for her tutor that night, she would have died on that very beach come morning. Her sire had stolen away every bit of her innocence within moments and left her with an immortality that she had never wanted. Her fingers came up to trace the velvet ribbon held tightly around her neck before they clasped the emerald that hung carefully from it. Other than her immortality, it was the only fucking thing she had left of him; his mark. No matter how much she convinced herself to throw it in the ocean and be done with it all, she never could. He was still alive; something within her knew it very well.
And she would fucking kill him herself.
The question was, did he even remember her? And furthermore... would he ever reveal himself to her again?
Leave the hurt behind.
I still remember the world
From the eyes of a child…
Slowly those feelings
Were clouded by what I know now…
Memories –
They could be such wonderful things just as much as they could become torturous and repetitive. They could either send a person into euphoria, remembering all that was once overwhelming in delight , or they could come crashing down around them in the never-ending waves of pain that continued to dig through open wounds. They'd been few and far – the good memories all the while the others were overbearing and would never seem to fade no matter how much she'd tried to fight them; no matter how much she'd lied to herself in an effort to alter them; to get her to believe in something altogether different. Perhaps a lie would help her sleep throughout the rest of her nights into her days. Perhaps that lie would bring her some peace.
If only she could make herself believe in it.
What had been left in the wake of that memory was the shell of a girl that she once was. No more was she the sweet, young woman whom only sought out to make her dreams a reality throughout the demanding world of her father – that girl had been long gone, murdered and the pieces scattered throughout the warm sand of the shore that she'd once been left upon. What had been left behind was a bitter young female intent on causing hell wherever she'd gone. If she had to suffer each and every night in her own personal hell, then she was committed to making others around her feel her pain. Perhaps it had been much to the dismay of her own tutor whom had taken her in – she'd taking a liking to personally torment him with how difficult she'd become. Eventually, she'd assumed, he would leave her just as quick as she once was left – and she was determined to push him as far away as she could.
It only frustrated her further that he continued to stay – and not only that, but doted on her to try and make her as happy as she once was. He should have understood, at least by then, that it was a lost cause.
She could hardly help it. Clara Emerson was once a young girl of privilege, trapped in a society that forced its beliefs and patterns upon her. Had it been up to them, she would have been married to whoever held the best title and whoever could secure a future for herself and her own family. Love was not an option – hell, even friendship was hardly an option. If love did form out of the marriage between the two, it was either out of sheer luck or simply dealing with one another for long enough that something eventually fell into place.
The years had come and gone and Clara had hardly given anyone the time of day. There was no one suitable enough for her; no one that she could share her passions with; share her dreams. She'd wanted to travel the world; wanted to see much of what was out there instead of being locked up as someone's silent wife, reproducing on a whim to keep the family strong and full. She did not want to be trapped in her own hell of a home with a man whom she did not and could not love – a man who would snuff out her dreams the very moment they'd said their vows.
That was not a future that she'd wanted, and Clara had fought it tooth and nail until her father was no longer able to bend to her whims. It was already bad enough that she'd reached 18 and had yet to marry – the people in town had begun to talk and it eventually found its way upon her father's ear. There had been rumors that she must have been barren – that no man had wanted a wife that old, especially one who could not produce the heir to the family. There were also rumors that she'd been mad – lost away in a fantasy world of her books and library – what man would want a woman who sought out more knowledge than he had known himself? Or maybe it was that she was just a rotten female, one who could not keep the company of whichever man sought to have her hand. Regardless of the rumor, regardless of how harsh they could be, her father would soon have none of that nonsense floating around his family name.
It was only a matter of time before her borrowed time would come to an end – she could see him unraveling, coming undone right before her very eyes before he'd lost his patience with her one last time.
"You listen to me, girl. I've given you ample time – I've given you every little thing your heart desires and yet you still do not take a husband. I know you hear them – everyone out there talking about you, talking about me! This cannot go on any longer, Clara. You will allow the Duke to court you come morning, and you will marry him – You have no choice. Do you want to continue destroying our family name? He will be able to provide for you, and in turn, the family will be secure in our own future as well. Do you understand?! "
Clara had understood full well. She'd understood that the world around her was collapsing with each panicked breath that left her chest the moment her father had walked out of that room. She was fully aware of what was to meet her the next morning; of what life was promised should she marry that awful man. She'd nearly felt her heart fall from her chest and onto the floor in front of her as she fought to calm herself from the inevitable fear and panic of what the future held for her. It was nothing that she wanted, and she needed to run – she needed to get far away from it, from her father, from everyone who could say anything about her. Let them talk in her absence, but she would never allow them to say it to her face.
Where has my heart gone?
An uneven trade for the real world
Oh I… I want to go back to
Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all…
It was within that fright and overwhelming anxiety that Clara found herself in her room in an instant, packing whatever she could into a bag. Clothes, photos, anything that might hold some sentimental value that she did not want to leave behind. She hadn't a plan or idea in the world what she was doing – all she knew was that she needed to get away, and fast. The quicker she ran, the father she could get without her father sending someone out to fetch her. She was aware of the dangers of running; of the risk she put herself at – a mere young girl out in the darkness of the night with hardly an idea on how to defend herself, whether it be from creature or man. She'd no idea where she was going or where she was going to end up – she just knew she needed to vanish..
Little did she know, it really would be the last time she'd spoken to her father or her family.
Her quick steps had led her through the chill of the night under cover of her cloak. She'd ran without taking a break- the loud sounds of her heels echoing against the cobblestone with each hurried step, the only sounds that reached her ears. There were others, eventually tumbling out of the taverns late at night; others who had been left to rot in the alleyways, unable to fend for themselves any longer. There were others who could have seen her as a piece of meat, and perhaps would have gone after her had the drunken few not been around.
Clara had ignored them all.
Her steps had eventually led her to softer ground, soon the calming sounds of the ocean against her ears instead of the offending drunkards and whistles of the night. It was here that she'd finally stopped; finally had taken a breath regardless of the fact that her lungs had felt as if they'd ignited in flames.
It was here that she'd made the worst decision of her life.
Clara hadn't noticed him at first – she'd felt entirely overwhelmed by not only the decision that she'd just made on a whim, but the sudden uncertainty of what was to come. She'd felt the tears pull at the corner of her eyes as she brushed them away fervently. She'd barely felt herself head even closer to the dark waters ahead before her shoes had slipped off and she felt the cold around her feet; felt the water dragging down the edges of her skirts.
It had been his touch that had awoken her from her stupor, the sudden gentle hand against her back almost only there to startle her into the present once more. And oddly enough, she hadn't run – no, she'd done enough running then, Clara determined. Something had kept her planted there, the sand shifting beneath her feet just as each wave came up around her toes. She'd known nothing of the mistakes that she'd already made that night – all of it seemed so very far away just as suddenly as that man had entered into her life.
What had followed still had her questioning its reality centuries down the road. The conversations; the comfort – something about the male had her calm and forgetful of her sudden fears; he made her believe it would all be alright; that her decision to run had not been as much of a mistake as it had been a gift.
Hours had felt like minutes upon that beach – basking in each other's presence, her wonder almost child-like over the man who seemed to want to stay within her company more than any other from the town whom had wanted to court her. Where had he been all of this time she'd been worrying; panicking about the future her father would force upon her? Was he even real – or had this all been a hopeful dream that she'd been thrust into after the exhaustion of her father's revelation?
Words had eventually melted into actions – everything she could have ever hoped for had been there, in him. Perhaps that was why she was able to give herself over so freely – why it hadn't even been a mere doubt in her mind – the passion suddenly between them. She could remember the euphoria, remember the feel of the heat between them, the sand against her skin, the absolute abandon that she'd felt with him all at once – and yet, she also could remember the sudden pain that melted into all of it – and the sudden sense of absolute loneliness and fear once she did awake in someone else's arms.
I still remember the sun
Always warm on my back.
Somehow it seems colder now…
If her tutor had not been around that night, she knew her existence would have been short. Clara would have either died on the beach that night, victim to her own new hunger and the incapability to satiate it the way she needed to. She would have gone back into that down and ripped it apart person by person if she'd been allowed to – until someone had destroyed her just as quickly… But he'd been there for her; there to pick her up and take her in; train her the way she needed to be trained… But it just never was what she'd needed – nothing could fill the ache that she'd always felt lingering in her soul – something had been missing after that night and it was the one thing her tutor could never give her.
-
Clara felt a slow sigh fall from her painted lips as she looked up at the mansion ahead of her. Soft music was already lifting through opened windows and doors and she'd felt her body tense. Another night of endless parties that her tutor had dragged her along to. Perhaps he'd thought the interactions with others would cheer her up. All these parties had continued to do was remind her of the void within her. No matter how many dances she'd partaken in; no matter how many mindless conversations or glasses of wine to warm her – nothing would put an end to that damned ache within her – no matter how much she'd tried to make others feel it; no matter how much she tried to make them suffer like she had… No one understood.
Her bright green eyes glared upon the offending house as she felt her tutor's arm slip into hers. "Come now, darling. Try to enjoy yourself tonight." His words were soft against her ear, but she hadn't looked at him. She'd merely taken one step in a time as he'd led her to the front doors. "Fuck off..." Clara spoke with a hiss, receiving only a sigh from the man next to her.
She knew it was bound to happen, but her tutor had eventually broken away from her and she was thankful for it. She'd made a beeline to find a glass of wine, weaving through the multiple colors of skirts and suits that had been so happily chattering and dancing away. Masquerades hadn't necessarily been her thing – hell, parties weren't entirely her thing – but at least here she could play the part. Here, she could be whomever she wanted, hiding behind a black mask of lace. There were plenty of strangers here, plenty of people she could manipulate if she'd wanted to – it would be a game of cat and mouse.
As Clara found a glass, she'd lifted the dark liquid to her lips slowly, her steps taking her towards one of the far walls to observe the crowds around her. She'd idly toyed with the blue silk of her skirts, the beading that lined her corset, before her fingers found their way to the pendant around her neck. Why it remained there was truly beyond her; why she hadn't tossed it into the ocean that night was more of a mystery to her than anything. He'd left it for her – the only damn thing she had left of that one night that had changed everything. He'd stolen it all from her; her life, her innocence, her dreams – and left only a god damn necklace in his wake. If she had it her way; if her tutor would cease all of this nonsense in trying to distract her, she would search for him during every waking moment; she would make him fucking pay for the hell that he'd made her live; for the broken promises; for all of the pain he'd caused her.
The frown continued to curl against her lips as she took in the sights, the loud music upon her ears as she'd watched countless bodies swirl and bend to the music in sync. It was going to be one hell of a long night… And she needed to find some form of entertainment should she choose to stay.
Where has my heart gone
Trapped in the eyes of a stranger
Oh I... I want to go back to
Believing in everything.
From the eyes of a child…
Slowly those feelings
Were clouded by what I know now…
Memories –
They could be such wonderful things just as much as they could become torturous and repetitive. They could either send a person into euphoria, remembering all that was once overwhelming in delight , or they could come crashing down around them in the never-ending waves of pain that continued to dig through open wounds. They'd been few and far – the good memories all the while the others were overbearing and would never seem to fade no matter how much she'd tried to fight them; no matter how much she'd lied to herself in an effort to alter them; to get her to believe in something altogether different. Perhaps a lie would help her sleep throughout the rest of her nights into her days. Perhaps that lie would bring her some peace.
If only she could make herself believe in it.
What had been left in the wake of that memory was the shell of a girl that she once was. No more was she the sweet, young woman whom only sought out to make her dreams a reality throughout the demanding world of her father – that girl had been long gone, murdered and the pieces scattered throughout the warm sand of the shore that she'd once been left upon. What had been left behind was a bitter young female intent on causing hell wherever she'd gone. If she had to suffer each and every night in her own personal hell, then she was committed to making others around her feel her pain. Perhaps it had been much to the dismay of her own tutor whom had taken her in – she'd taking a liking to personally torment him with how difficult she'd become. Eventually, she'd assumed, he would leave her just as quick as she once was left – and she was determined to push him as far away as she could.
It only frustrated her further that he continued to stay – and not only that, but doted on her to try and make her as happy as she once was. He should have understood, at least by then, that it was a lost cause.
She could hardly help it. Clara Emerson was once a young girl of privilege, trapped in a society that forced its beliefs and patterns upon her. Had it been up to them, she would have been married to whoever held the best title and whoever could secure a future for herself and her own family. Love was not an option – hell, even friendship was hardly an option. If love did form out of the marriage between the two, it was either out of sheer luck or simply dealing with one another for long enough that something eventually fell into place.
The years had come and gone and Clara had hardly given anyone the time of day. There was no one suitable enough for her; no one that she could share her passions with; share her dreams. She'd wanted to travel the world; wanted to see much of what was out there instead of being locked up as someone's silent wife, reproducing on a whim to keep the family strong and full. She did not want to be trapped in her own hell of a home with a man whom she did not and could not love – a man who would snuff out her dreams the very moment they'd said their vows.
That was not a future that she'd wanted, and Clara had fought it tooth and nail until her father was no longer able to bend to her whims. It was already bad enough that she'd reached 18 and had yet to marry – the people in town had begun to talk and it eventually found its way upon her father's ear. There had been rumors that she must have been barren – that no man had wanted a wife that old, especially one who could not produce the heir to the family. There were also rumors that she'd been mad – lost away in a fantasy world of her books and library – what man would want a woman who sought out more knowledge than he had known himself? Or maybe it was that she was just a rotten female, one who could not keep the company of whichever man sought to have her hand. Regardless of the rumor, regardless of how harsh they could be, her father would soon have none of that nonsense floating around his family name.
It was only a matter of time before her borrowed time would come to an end – she could see him unraveling, coming undone right before her very eyes before he'd lost his patience with her one last time.
"You listen to me, girl. I've given you ample time – I've given you every little thing your heart desires and yet you still do not take a husband. I know you hear them – everyone out there talking about you, talking about me! This cannot go on any longer, Clara. You will allow the Duke to court you come morning, and you will marry him – You have no choice. Do you want to continue destroying our family name? He will be able to provide for you, and in turn, the family will be secure in our own future as well. Do you understand?! "
Clara had understood full well. She'd understood that the world around her was collapsing with each panicked breath that left her chest the moment her father had walked out of that room. She was fully aware of what was to meet her the next morning; of what life was promised should she marry that awful man. She'd nearly felt her heart fall from her chest and onto the floor in front of her as she fought to calm herself from the inevitable fear and panic of what the future held for her. It was nothing that she wanted, and she needed to run – she needed to get far away from it, from her father, from everyone who could say anything about her. Let them talk in her absence, but she would never allow them to say it to her face.
Where has my heart gone?
An uneven trade for the real world
Oh I… I want to go back to
Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all…
It was within that fright and overwhelming anxiety that Clara found herself in her room in an instant, packing whatever she could into a bag. Clothes, photos, anything that might hold some sentimental value that she did not want to leave behind. She hadn't a plan or idea in the world what she was doing – all she knew was that she needed to get away, and fast. The quicker she ran, the father she could get without her father sending someone out to fetch her. She was aware of the dangers of running; of the risk she put herself at – a mere young girl out in the darkness of the night with hardly an idea on how to defend herself, whether it be from creature or man. She'd no idea where she was going or where she was going to end up – she just knew she needed to vanish..
Little did she know, it really would be the last time she'd spoken to her father or her family.
Her quick steps had led her through the chill of the night under cover of her cloak. She'd ran without taking a break- the loud sounds of her heels echoing against the cobblestone with each hurried step, the only sounds that reached her ears. There were others, eventually tumbling out of the taverns late at night; others who had been left to rot in the alleyways, unable to fend for themselves any longer. There were others who could have seen her as a piece of meat, and perhaps would have gone after her had the drunken few not been around.
Clara had ignored them all.
Her steps had eventually led her to softer ground, soon the calming sounds of the ocean against her ears instead of the offending drunkards and whistles of the night. It was here that she'd finally stopped; finally had taken a breath regardless of the fact that her lungs had felt as if they'd ignited in flames.
It was here that she'd made the worst decision of her life.
Clara hadn't noticed him at first – she'd felt entirely overwhelmed by not only the decision that she'd just made on a whim, but the sudden uncertainty of what was to come. She'd felt the tears pull at the corner of her eyes as she brushed them away fervently. She'd barely felt herself head even closer to the dark waters ahead before her shoes had slipped off and she felt the cold around her feet; felt the water dragging down the edges of her skirts.
It had been his touch that had awoken her from her stupor, the sudden gentle hand against her back almost only there to startle her into the present once more. And oddly enough, she hadn't run – no, she'd done enough running then, Clara determined. Something had kept her planted there, the sand shifting beneath her feet just as each wave came up around her toes. She'd known nothing of the mistakes that she'd already made that night – all of it seemed so very far away just as suddenly as that man had entered into her life.
What had followed still had her questioning its reality centuries down the road. The conversations; the comfort – something about the male had her calm and forgetful of her sudden fears; he made her believe it would all be alright; that her decision to run had not been as much of a mistake as it had been a gift.
Hours had felt like minutes upon that beach – basking in each other's presence, her wonder almost child-like over the man who seemed to want to stay within her company more than any other from the town whom had wanted to court her. Where had he been all of this time she'd been worrying; panicking about the future her father would force upon her? Was he even real – or had this all been a hopeful dream that she'd been thrust into after the exhaustion of her father's revelation?
Words had eventually melted into actions – everything she could have ever hoped for had been there, in him. Perhaps that was why she was able to give herself over so freely – why it hadn't even been a mere doubt in her mind – the passion suddenly between them. She could remember the euphoria, remember the feel of the heat between them, the sand against her skin, the absolute abandon that she'd felt with him all at once – and yet, she also could remember the sudden pain that melted into all of it – and the sudden sense of absolute loneliness and fear once she did awake in someone else's arms.
I still remember the sun
Always warm on my back.
Somehow it seems colder now…
If her tutor had not been around that night, she knew her existence would have been short. Clara would have either died on the beach that night, victim to her own new hunger and the incapability to satiate it the way she needed to. She would have gone back into that down and ripped it apart person by person if she'd been allowed to – until someone had destroyed her just as quickly… But he'd been there for her; there to pick her up and take her in; train her the way she needed to be trained… But it just never was what she'd needed – nothing could fill the ache that she'd always felt lingering in her soul – something had been missing after that night and it was the one thing her tutor could never give her.
-
Clara felt a slow sigh fall from her painted lips as she looked up at the mansion ahead of her. Soft music was already lifting through opened windows and doors and she'd felt her body tense. Another night of endless parties that her tutor had dragged her along to. Perhaps he'd thought the interactions with others would cheer her up. All these parties had continued to do was remind her of the void within her. No matter how many dances she'd partaken in; no matter how many mindless conversations or glasses of wine to warm her – nothing would put an end to that damned ache within her – no matter how much she'd tried to make others feel it; no matter how much she tried to make them suffer like she had… No one understood.
Her bright green eyes glared upon the offending house as she felt her tutor's arm slip into hers. "Come now, darling. Try to enjoy yourself tonight." His words were soft against her ear, but she hadn't looked at him. She'd merely taken one step in a time as he'd led her to the front doors. "Fuck off..." Clara spoke with a hiss, receiving only a sigh from the man next to her.
She knew it was bound to happen, but her tutor had eventually broken away from her and she was thankful for it. She'd made a beeline to find a glass of wine, weaving through the multiple colors of skirts and suits that had been so happily chattering and dancing away. Masquerades hadn't necessarily been her thing – hell, parties weren't entirely her thing – but at least here she could play the part. Here, she could be whomever she wanted, hiding behind a black mask of lace. There were plenty of strangers here, plenty of people she could manipulate if she'd wanted to – it would be a game of cat and mouse.
As Clara found a glass, she'd lifted the dark liquid to her lips slowly, her steps taking her towards one of the far walls to observe the crowds around her. She'd idly toyed with the blue silk of her skirts, the beading that lined her corset, before her fingers found their way to the pendant around her neck. Why it remained there was truly beyond her; why she hadn't tossed it into the ocean that night was more of a mystery to her than anything. He'd left it for her – the only damn thing she had left of that one night that had changed everything. He'd stolen it all from her; her life, her innocence, her dreams – and left only a god damn necklace in his wake. If she had it her way; if her tutor would cease all of this nonsense in trying to distract her, she would search for him during every waking moment; she would make him fucking pay for the hell that he'd made her live; for the broken promises; for all of the pain he'd caused her.
The frown continued to curl against her lips as she took in the sights, the loud music upon her ears as she'd watched countless bodies swirl and bend to the music in sync. It was going to be one hell of a long night… And she needed to find some form of entertainment should she choose to stay.
Where has my heart gone
Trapped in the eyes of a stranger
Oh I... I want to go back to
Believing in everything.
Vampire (F) x Werewolf (M)
Vampires and Werewolves have been sworn enemies for ages – both have managed to stake their claim on territories, rules had been placed and meant never to be broken in order to keep their treaty intact. A vampire mindlessly wanders into werewolf territory through a city one night, caring not of the retributions that she may suffer for doing so. What do you have to lose if there's nothing to give? She is greeted by a werewolf, who has decided to either give her the opportunity to leave, or suffer the consequences thereafter if she does not do so willingly. Little does he know, she's out looking for trouble and thrives in the thrill of it all.
Vampire princess x. Vampire Prince ****
Arranged marriage -- both clans have a history of revulsion towards one another. However, at the very real threat of being wiped out on both ends, they've reluctantly agreed to put aside their differences and join clans for the sake of survival. However, it seems both Prince and Princess are the last to know until the night before their prearranged marriage, and old habits simply cannot be broken so easily.
I plan on this being a rough sort of relationship. Definitely love hate -- absolutely would like to hurt one another more than actually give in and fall for the other sort of thing. :3
((*alternate universe/need to reproduce to have an heir))
Arranged Marriage
Of any sorts -- looking for the love/hate; the need to uphold duties over their own wants and needs; feelings to possibly develop over time, but stubborn personalities prevent admittance
Angel x Demon***
Thinking along the lines of arranged marriage with this one. Perhaps two bloodlines are interested in breeding a hybrid, so they force one of each kind together. Totally rough idea, but open to plotting for this. Definitely want to explore the forbidden pairing.
Movies:
x. Phantom of the Opera
Erik x Christine
This is the only couple that I'm willing to play out. I adore them. I've read both Leroux and Kay's versions of the story, have seen the movie, have seen the stage production, and also Love Never Dies. My thoughts are to pick this up after Christine has chosen Raoul, or to pick this up once she arrives on Coney Island in LND. Open to other ideas, however.
x. Jekyll & Hyde
Dr. Jekyll/Hyde x Lucy
Again, forbidden pairing based off the musical, but I always loved the idea of the two of them actually getting together, and her having to deal with the realization that both Jekyll and Hyde are one in the same.
x. Labyrinth
Jareth x Sarah
Idea here is either to change the ending - have her beg for Toby to be sent back in return for her staying. Either that, or she has to return after years had passed, this time in search of Jareth himself.
x. Beauty and the Beast
This isn't based off of the movie, actually. Just a plot idea that's loosely based off of the Beauty and the Beast story line.
This is a more realistic take on Belle and the 'beast'. 'Belle' is trapped with an alcoholic father who is slowly slipping into drug usage. Desperate to keep her finances in check to try and bring him from his alcoholism, she takes a job as an in-home maid to a rather ruthless and rude, wealthy young man at the end of town.
TV:
Penny Dreadful ***
Ethan x Vanessa
Dorian x Vanessa
Dracula x Vanessa
Vampires and Werewolves have been sworn enemies for ages – both have managed to stake their claim on territories, rules had been placed and meant never to be broken in order to keep their treaty intact. A vampire mindlessly wanders into werewolf territory through a city one night, caring not of the retributions that she may suffer for doing so. What do you have to lose if there's nothing to give? She is greeted by a werewolf, who has decided to either give her the opportunity to leave, or suffer the consequences thereafter if she does not do so willingly. Little does he know, she's out looking for trouble and thrives in the thrill of it all.
Vampire princess x. Vampire Prince ****
Arranged marriage -- both clans have a history of revulsion towards one another. However, at the very real threat of being wiped out on both ends, they've reluctantly agreed to put aside their differences and join clans for the sake of survival. However, it seems both Prince and Princess are the last to know until the night before their prearranged marriage, and old habits simply cannot be broken so easily.
I plan on this being a rough sort of relationship. Definitely love hate -- absolutely would like to hurt one another more than actually give in and fall for the other sort of thing. :3
((*alternate universe/need to reproduce to have an heir))
Arranged Marriage
Of any sorts -- looking for the love/hate; the need to uphold duties over their own wants and needs; feelings to possibly develop over time, but stubborn personalities prevent admittance
Angel x Demon***
Thinking along the lines of arranged marriage with this one. Perhaps two bloodlines are interested in breeding a hybrid, so they force one of each kind together. Totally rough idea, but open to plotting for this. Definitely want to explore the forbidden pairing.
Movies:
x. Phantom of the Opera
Erik x Christine
This is the only couple that I'm willing to play out. I adore them. I've read both Leroux and Kay's versions of the story, have seen the movie, have seen the stage production, and also Love Never Dies. My thoughts are to pick this up after Christine has chosen Raoul, or to pick this up once she arrives on Coney Island in LND. Open to other ideas, however.
x. Jekyll & Hyde
Dr. Jekyll/Hyde x Lucy
Again, forbidden pairing based off the musical, but I always loved the idea of the two of them actually getting together, and her having to deal with the realization that both Jekyll and Hyde are one in the same.
x. Labyrinth
Jareth x Sarah
Idea here is either to change the ending - have her beg for Toby to be sent back in return for her staying. Either that, or she has to return after years had passed, this time in search of Jareth himself.
x. Beauty and the Beast
This isn't based off of the movie, actually. Just a plot idea that's loosely based off of the Beauty and the Beast story line.
This is a more realistic take on Belle and the 'beast'. 'Belle' is trapped with an alcoholic father who is slowly slipping into drug usage. Desperate to keep her finances in check to try and bring him from his alcoholism, she takes a job as an in-home maid to a rather ruthless and rude, wealthy young man at the end of town.
Penny Dreadful ***
Ethan x Vanessa
Dorian x Vanessa
Dracula x Vanessa
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