Venari99
Count
Inner Sanctum Nobility
- Local time
- Today 12:05 AM
- Messages
- 278
- Age
- 25
- Pronouns
- He
Hello everyone. I've recently begun moving to this site from another because I'm finding that I enjoy this community more. I'm finding more people that are looking for the same things I am, which primarily is story. I like to write, I'm 22 and while I have no problem with smut, I don't focus on it. I had joined an adult site before hoping to find people similar, but found that my heavy focus on story lost the interest of a few, and then of course lives happen and others simply drifted away. So with that all said, bellow will be a list of names of roleplays, and further down will be a series of posts for starters that have been abandoned.
As far as continuing the stories, those could be done via completely restarting, or simply editing things a bit, to mesh with your idea. It's totally up to you honestly, these are just stories I was really sad to see not get off the ground, or to end as abruptly as they ended.
If you are interested, just send me a PM, I don't bite and in fact am very friendly! So without further ado here are the posts.
PS: I play the males in the following posts.
Table of Contents:
Bad Timing Belt (Link to my character's background: Andy Williams)
Son's Best Friend (Same character as above, only a younger version.)
Victim of Fate (Character Art)
Married to a Heathen (Closed)
Drained Dry, Almost. (Closed)
As far as continuing the stories, those could be done via completely restarting, or simply editing things a bit, to mesh with your idea. It's totally up to you honestly, these are just stories I was really sad to see not get off the ground, or to end as abruptly as they ended.
If you are interested, just send me a PM, I don't bite and in fact am very friendly! So without further ado here are the posts.
PS: I play the males in the following posts.
Table of Contents:
Bad Timing Belt (Link to my character's background: Andy Williams)
Son's Best Friend (Same character as above, only a younger version.)
Victim of Fate (Character Art)
Of all the things Jourdan Smith needed to happen today, it definitely wasn't her Buick starting to act up. She'd been having what could only be described as a string of bad luck. Her cat had gotten sick in the middle of the night and she'd been late up cleaning up after him. Her next door neighbors had then decided to start arguing, which kept her up half the night. And when she'd woken up the next morning, she'd realized she'd run out of coffee. Staring down into her empty coffee maker, she'd wanted to cry. But she couldn't stay in bed all day. Not if she wanted to make rent next month. She didn't make a lot waitressing and even though her boss, Henry was understanding enough, she wouldn't take a day off unless she had to. Turns out, she'd end up taking one anyone.
After borrowing some coffee grounds from her next door neighbor, Sarah, a nice old lady, who she sometimes sat with on Sundays, she made herself a fresh cup and hopped in her car. Halfway to the cafe, her engine had begun making a weird noise. She pulled the car over and got out, peering under the hood, as if she had a clue what she was doing. She didn't and after ten minutes, the noise has grown worse and she was worried it might explode or something."This can't be happening to me," she moaned, slamming her hand against her steering wheel.
Jourdan pulled into the repair shop, finishing up her conversation with her boss. She didn't know how long this would take but she told Henry she'd try to come in and cover a later shift. Slipping her phone into her pocket, she got out of the car, looking around for the mechanic. When she saw him, a memory registered in her mind and she could have sworn she'd seen him at the cafe before. What was his name? She felt so horrible that she couldn't remember it. But so many people came into the shop each day. Faces got muddled and names became mixed.
It was just another day in the hood for Andy, a fairly straight forward day. The morning had started out the same as it always has, he'd walked through the square, delivering goods for his boss Tony, collecting what protection money was needed. All in all things had gone smoothly today. Everybody paid and as it happens, everyone was happy.
Setting his gun, along with his bag down on the back table he smiled at his boss, who as always was eager to see him, "Hey Tony, good haul today, no trouble." He stated simply as he motioned to the bag, "Pigs are paid too." He grunted as he started to change, not in the least but shy. Pulling out his clothes from the bag, he motioned towards the wads of cash at the bottom, "Just leave my cut at the bottom, I trust you." He said. Tony had always done right by him.
Tony was a heavier set man, a peppered goatee on his angular face. He smiled seeing Andy, giving him a rough, if glancing hug, more a pat on the back if anything, "Atta boy Andy, good to see you." He stated before looking in the bag, starting at counting the haul as Andy got into his uniform, it was a simple thing that read 'Tony's' but it didn't need to be complex given that this place truly was just to launder money, as well as flipping the odd car. They took in plenty of honest work too, but that wasn't where the money was at.
"Don't have anything left today Tony, gonna work on some of the commissions." He noted, not really expecting a response at this point. Walking out into the floor Tony sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling a cigarette out along with a lighter he lit it up, sighing contently as he felt his nerves dying down, his eyes boring a whole into the wrecked impalla he'd been tasked with putting back together. Truly it should be totalled, but the owner has the dough and said it held sentimental value.
He was just in the process of snuffing it out and getting to work on the car when he heard the absolute worst grinding noise coming into his shop, "Damn that sounds pretty awful," he muttered as he moved over towards the entrance, parked outside was a beat up old Buick that looked oddly familiar. It wasn't until the waitress from the cafe he frequented, normally for lunch or after work, that he recognized it.
Grinning boyishly he moved over to her, his hands not yet dirty from work he offered her his hand, "Hey there pretty lady, didn't expect to see you first thing," he stated, a playful flirt thrown casually about, "Nice to be able to be of service to you for once." He stated, motioning for her to pop the hood. Once she'd done so he took a look, sure enough, he saw the culprit of the high pitched squeeling.
Wincing he sighed, "Well shit. You're lucky you brought her in when you did, otherwise you'd be bringing her in a row truck. Bad timing belt, normally run you about five hundred, but for you? Four hundred." He teased a bit, "Maybe less, I'm pretty quick, your first in today, so probably can have her done by six or so, right before closing." He noted nodding to himself, "If you got the money I'll get started, pay once I'm done and have an exact price." He noted holding out his hand, "You eating around, or should we get your number too?" He asked raising a brow.
After borrowing some coffee grounds from her next door neighbor, Sarah, a nice old lady, who she sometimes sat with on Sundays, she made herself a fresh cup and hopped in her car. Halfway to the cafe, her engine had begun making a weird noise. She pulled the car over and got out, peering under the hood, as if she had a clue what she was doing. She didn't and after ten minutes, the noise has grown worse and she was worried it might explode or something."This can't be happening to me," she moaned, slamming her hand against her steering wheel.
Jourdan pulled into the repair shop, finishing up her conversation with her boss. She didn't know how long this would take but she told Henry she'd try to come in and cover a later shift. Slipping her phone into her pocket, she got out of the car, looking around for the mechanic. When she saw him, a memory registered in her mind and she could have sworn she'd seen him at the cafe before. What was his name? She felt so horrible that she couldn't remember it. But so many people came into the shop each day. Faces got muddled and names became mixed.
It was just another day in the hood for Andy, a fairly straight forward day. The morning had started out the same as it always has, he'd walked through the square, delivering goods for his boss Tony, collecting what protection money was needed. All in all things had gone smoothly today. Everybody paid and as it happens, everyone was happy.
Setting his gun, along with his bag down on the back table he smiled at his boss, who as always was eager to see him, "Hey Tony, good haul today, no trouble." He stated simply as he motioned to the bag, "Pigs are paid too." He grunted as he started to change, not in the least but shy. Pulling out his clothes from the bag, he motioned towards the wads of cash at the bottom, "Just leave my cut at the bottom, I trust you." He said. Tony had always done right by him.
Tony was a heavier set man, a peppered goatee on his angular face. He smiled seeing Andy, giving him a rough, if glancing hug, more a pat on the back if anything, "Atta boy Andy, good to see you." He stated before looking in the bag, starting at counting the haul as Andy got into his uniform, it was a simple thing that read 'Tony's' but it didn't need to be complex given that this place truly was just to launder money, as well as flipping the odd car. They took in plenty of honest work too, but that wasn't where the money was at.
"Don't have anything left today Tony, gonna work on some of the commissions." He noted, not really expecting a response at this point. Walking out into the floor Tony sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling a cigarette out along with a lighter he lit it up, sighing contently as he felt his nerves dying down, his eyes boring a whole into the wrecked impalla he'd been tasked with putting back together. Truly it should be totalled, but the owner has the dough and said it held sentimental value.
He was just in the process of snuffing it out and getting to work on the car when he heard the absolute worst grinding noise coming into his shop, "Damn that sounds pretty awful," he muttered as he moved over towards the entrance, parked outside was a beat up old Buick that looked oddly familiar. It wasn't until the waitress from the cafe he frequented, normally for lunch or after work, that he recognized it.
Grinning boyishly he moved over to her, his hands not yet dirty from work he offered her his hand, "Hey there pretty lady, didn't expect to see you first thing," he stated, a playful flirt thrown casually about, "Nice to be able to be of service to you for once." He stated, motioning for her to pop the hood. Once she'd done so he took a look, sure enough, he saw the culprit of the high pitched squeeling.
Wincing he sighed, "Well shit. You're lucky you brought her in when you did, otherwise you'd be bringing her in a row truck. Bad timing belt, normally run you about five hundred, but for you? Four hundred." He teased a bit, "Maybe less, I'm pretty quick, your first in today, so probably can have her done by six or so, right before closing." He noted nodding to himself, "If you got the money I'll get started, pay once I'm done and have an exact price." He noted holding out his hand, "You eating around, or should we get your number too?" He asked raising a brow.
(Alternate Art for younger Andy )
So this one I need to explain a bit as it's first post might not make sense without some explaining. This one, I would love to see more story than the initial plan was for it. But essentially it was a younger version of Andy that was best friends with your character's son. Basically your character was like a mother to mine, so very much leaning in that taboo relationship territory. The plan had been that your character and mine have been eyeing each other for a while, but neither acting due to the nature of their relationship and with her son. Instead you had very much the sterotype of him helping her where he could, sort of sub but not really sort of a relationship that would change as things progressed.
The initial idea was again for him to be younger and in highschool (I should note as a senior, so still 18), but I'm totally cool with doing college instead, or something like that if anyone's interested. Feel free to ask me for more details too if anyone would like.
Sky blue eyes settled on the same beautiful door that they had settled on perhaps a thousand times before. Kenneth, or Kenny to his friends, walked along side Rick, chatting as they had for the last year. The two of them had come here after school for nearly every day, the young man thankful to Dominic for the hospitality she'd shown him through this year.
He had met Rick years ago, when they were children, the scrawny boy no one wanted to play with, and yet he was still trying. At first Kenny felt bad for him, joining him for a game out of pitty, but the more he got to know the kid the more he liked him. As the years went on, the two of them became fast friends.
Kenny grew up faster than Rick, living in group homes his entire life he quickly learned of what the real world was, of the people that made it up. However after each and every day, there was little Ricky wanting to show him a new game. He was thankful to the kid in truth, it would have been so easy for him to fall prey to the games of the other kids in his group home, to instead join one of the many gangs that plagued the city. But instead of all that he was walking into Rick's home for perhaps the thousandth time.
As they passed through the doorway, he removed his shoes and turned towards the kitchen, usually Rick's mother Dominic was working on dinner at this point, in that lovely little apron. Sure enough there she was, his eyes drawn to her for a moment, though Rick's voice drew him back out soon enough, finishing their train of thought he looked back towards Dominic, "Good afternoon Dominic." He stated flashing her a boyish smile as he kicked off his shoes, "Did you need any help from us before we settle down?" He offered, just as he'd offered so many times before.
So this one I need to explain a bit as it's first post might not make sense without some explaining. This one, I would love to see more story than the initial plan was for it. But essentially it was a younger version of Andy that was best friends with your character's son. Basically your character was like a mother to mine, so very much leaning in that taboo relationship territory. The plan had been that your character and mine have been eyeing each other for a while, but neither acting due to the nature of their relationship and with her son. Instead you had very much the sterotype of him helping her where he could, sort of sub but not really sort of a relationship that would change as things progressed.
The initial idea was again for him to be younger and in highschool (I should note as a senior, so still 18), but I'm totally cool with doing college instead, or something like that if anyone's interested. Feel free to ask me for more details too if anyone would like.
Sky blue eyes settled on the same beautiful door that they had settled on perhaps a thousand times before. Kenneth, or Kenny to his friends, walked along side Rick, chatting as they had for the last year. The two of them had come here after school for nearly every day, the young man thankful to Dominic for the hospitality she'd shown him through this year.
He had met Rick years ago, when they were children, the scrawny boy no one wanted to play with, and yet he was still trying. At first Kenny felt bad for him, joining him for a game out of pitty, but the more he got to know the kid the more he liked him. As the years went on, the two of them became fast friends.
Kenny grew up faster than Rick, living in group homes his entire life he quickly learned of what the real world was, of the people that made it up. However after each and every day, there was little Ricky wanting to show him a new game. He was thankful to the kid in truth, it would have been so easy for him to fall prey to the games of the other kids in his group home, to instead join one of the many gangs that plagued the city. But instead of all that he was walking into Rick's home for perhaps the thousandth time.
As they passed through the doorway, he removed his shoes and turned towards the kitchen, usually Rick's mother Dominic was working on dinner at this point, in that lovely little apron. Sure enough there she was, his eyes drawn to her for a moment, though Rick's voice drew him back out soon enough, finishing their train of thought he looked back towards Dominic, "Good afternoon Dominic." He stated flashing her a boyish smile as he kicked off his shoes, "Did you need any help from us before we settle down?" He offered, just as he'd offered so many times before.
So, this one right here was really cool, and it went for quite a while, but both our lives got busy. I have plenty more that could be read if someone was interested... but I'd honestly rather just see what someone else would do with my post. Technically it's the second post for the RP, but it'd work fine as a starter. This one was very much meant to be dark, with very dubious consent. I can go dark with RP's, and this one was meant to do that.
Long had Kilgars tribes raided from the frigid northern lands. They were a simple people that followed old traditions as their elven neighbors did. However they did not pick and choose the gates handed down to them from the heavens. They took their lumps as they were meant to. Kilgar was an A'kari, a single orc in a thousand blessed by their diety with strength, cunning, and intelligence. The blessing that came from the A'kari's presence was obvious in the way his tribe grew. Guided by an orc not clouded by the rage his kin normally were, he had implemented laws, rules for his clan to follow, such was the task of the A'kari.
Above this though, he was chieftan. He decided when to raid, when yo retreat. He was the one who would choose what spoils were given to who, and what was saved for winter. As such over the course of his fifteen winters in power, the orc clan of the Gha'shar grew beyond the size of any other. The orc tribes that populated the region known only as the Frozen North to elves and man flocking to become a part of his lands.
As was to be expected as the 'civil' races learned of his arrival, of the orc clan that threatened to rival even an elven city, men grew scared. Scared men do foolish things, Kilgar Gha'Shar took advantage of their fear. His orcs lured out many of their armies, only to riddle them down through guiriella warfare. While the armies felt safe on 'their' lands, the orcs raided here... Hunted here. They were accustomed to the terrain, the armies of man and elf were forced back, the loses too great for the fringe lands to continue fighting the orcs on what was quickly becoming their land. These lands became the homes for the orc slaves, fertile lands that the orcs protected adamently as with it their soldiers became nouirished, stronger. They were able to train outside of the constant bloodshed that their lives often became.
Valeera was drug off by an orc chief known as Vulga, he was well respected among his peers,l. It was for this reason he had been selected to lead the raid onto the coastal town Valeera had been residing. It was further away, harder to reach than most. However that was why it was chosen. Kilgar's horde had grown strong, they wanted to prove this strength, wanted to show their enemies that they could not hide behind their forces, that the Gha'Shar could strike at them where ever they hid. It was that reason that Valeera found herself on an orc longship after a long and hard fought battle. She was well cared for, for a slave at least. No orc dared beat what was to be their prized loot for their A'kari. The ship had moored at one of the coastal slave towns, the male slaves, the women deemed lucky enough to be considered ugly to the orcs given to work and make more slaves, as well as the children. The produce of these slaves would later be given to the A'kari, and he alone would choose how it was distributed.
Once finished with this port tiwn Valeera would be taken further into the northern lands, to were human and elven made ships could not venture. Once moored here she was drug off of the ship and towards Kilgar's home. Vulga was the one to drag her here, as was his right. Opening the door to his chieftain's great hall he would clamp his free hand to his chest, the other holding the chain that pulled the elf by her throat as one might expect a dog to be walked. "Chieftain, an elf female was found." Vulgar would declare proudly once acknowledged.
Kilgar had been sitting in his chair, a woman of some beauty sitting on his lap as he seemed to stare at the map that covered the greater portion of the table. His mind obviously working as the girl caressed him. He largely seemed uninterested in her however, even going so far as to push her away when she got in the way of his view of the lands he sought to conquer. Hearing Vulga enter he stood about to rejoice in his return before he heard his words. Shock filled his eyes, elves did not mingle with humans, not often at least, not outside of their cities. It was due to this fact that Kilgar rose, the girl running away seemingly thankful as Kilgar would stand, his eyes burning with curiousity, and desire as he looked at the elven maiden. After a moment though he pulled himself away to speak with Vulgar, the two discussing the battle as her chain was handed off to Kilgar to hold as if she were nothing more than a possession to be given for Kilgars later entertainment, the two speaking of war and loot now.
Long had Kilgars tribes raided from the frigid northern lands. They were a simple people that followed old traditions as their elven neighbors did. However they did not pick and choose the gates handed down to them from the heavens. They took their lumps as they were meant to. Kilgar was an A'kari, a single orc in a thousand blessed by their diety with strength, cunning, and intelligence. The blessing that came from the A'kari's presence was obvious in the way his tribe grew. Guided by an orc not clouded by the rage his kin normally were, he had implemented laws, rules for his clan to follow, such was the task of the A'kari.
Above this though, he was chieftan. He decided when to raid, when yo retreat. He was the one who would choose what spoils were given to who, and what was saved for winter. As such over the course of his fifteen winters in power, the orc clan of the Gha'shar grew beyond the size of any other. The orc tribes that populated the region known only as the Frozen North to elves and man flocking to become a part of his lands.
As was to be expected as the 'civil' races learned of his arrival, of the orc clan that threatened to rival even an elven city, men grew scared. Scared men do foolish things, Kilgar Gha'Shar took advantage of their fear. His orcs lured out many of their armies, only to riddle them down through guiriella warfare. While the armies felt safe on 'their' lands, the orcs raided here... Hunted here. They were accustomed to the terrain, the armies of man and elf were forced back, the loses too great for the fringe lands to continue fighting the orcs on what was quickly becoming their land. These lands became the homes for the orc slaves, fertile lands that the orcs protected adamently as with it their soldiers became nouirished, stronger. They were able to train outside of the constant bloodshed that their lives often became.
Valeera was drug off by an orc chief known as Vulga, he was well respected among his peers,l. It was for this reason he had been selected to lead the raid onto the coastal town Valeera had been residing. It was further away, harder to reach than most. However that was why it was chosen. Kilgar's horde had grown strong, they wanted to prove this strength, wanted to show their enemies that they could not hide behind their forces, that the Gha'Shar could strike at them where ever they hid. It was that reason that Valeera found herself on an orc longship after a long and hard fought battle. She was well cared for, for a slave at least. No orc dared beat what was to be their prized loot for their A'kari. The ship had moored at one of the coastal slave towns, the male slaves, the women deemed lucky enough to be considered ugly to the orcs given to work and make more slaves, as well as the children. The produce of these slaves would later be given to the A'kari, and he alone would choose how it was distributed.
Once finished with this port tiwn Valeera would be taken further into the northern lands, to were human and elven made ships could not venture. Once moored here she was drug off of the ship and towards Kilgar's home. Vulga was the one to drag her here, as was his right. Opening the door to his chieftain's great hall he would clamp his free hand to his chest, the other holding the chain that pulled the elf by her throat as one might expect a dog to be walked. "Chieftain, an elf female was found." Vulgar would declare proudly once acknowledged.
Kilgar had been sitting in his chair, a woman of some beauty sitting on his lap as he seemed to stare at the map that covered the greater portion of the table. His mind obviously working as the girl caressed him. He largely seemed uninterested in her however, even going so far as to push her away when she got in the way of his view of the lands he sought to conquer. Hearing Vulga enter he stood about to rejoice in his return before he heard his words. Shock filled his eyes, elves did not mingle with humans, not often at least, not outside of their cities. It was due to this fact that Kilgar rose, the girl running away seemingly thankful as Kilgar would stand, his eyes burning with curiousity, and desire as he looked at the elven maiden. After a moment though he pulled himself away to speak with Vulgar, the two discussing the battle as her chain was handed off to Kilgar to hold as if she were nothing more than a possession to be given for Kilgars later entertainment, the two speaking of war and loot now.
Again, technically the second post... but I'd rather not reuse my partners. It was good, but I'd like to see someone pick up on their own note so to speak. So this one is heavily insipired by the tv series The Last Kingdom, I wouldn't say it's a fandom as it's a fairly common trope the RP is following, but essentially my character is a viking of sorts that has joined a pre-england Anglo saxon kingdom. So with that in mind, he is not trusted in the least and ends up forced to mary into the nobility essentially so that the king can control him better. Very much a shades of grey RP I'd love to see picked up as it never got very far off the ground.
Bjarni was furious. It had been nearly a year ago that he'd sworn an oath to the king in exchange for the lives of his kin, and in that time he'd brought much fame and glory to the man. Yet still he could hear the whispers, the hushed talks if his heritage as a heathen. He felt little love for these people, for those who spit in his eyes at every turn because of one simple fact. He wanted nothing more than to leave, to return back to the very people he had been forced to fight.
Yet he knew such was beyond his grasp, he did not swear an oath to a foolish king. Time after time the king used Bjarni's actions to further bind him, used his honor to tie the warrior further to the lattice work that was the tapestry of this kingdom. Despite it all, Bjarni could not help but feel a begrudging respect for the man, the weak christian man who thought while Bjarni took action.
Bjarni had yet again found himself at odds with the man, having growled out his displeasure of not being recognized yet again. His name vacant from the history books that spoke of the many great battles his strategies, his mind, had brought to the king. He had nearly ended up in chains, had the queen her way and certainly he would have been.
That was how he found himself instead told he was to marry this very much christian girl. That in doing so was the only way in which this king would award him lands upon which he could prove his loyalty to the kingdom.
His people had no concept of marriage, relationships yes, but they did not believe any god was watching over the sanctity of such a thing. If a man was unfaithful then a woman could leave of her own accord, there was no binding contract between them. And yet that was what he was told this was, and it infuriated him.
He had no desire for this woman that walked towards him, it was not her looks he found appalling, but the sheer fact that he could tell she wanted nothing to do with this. He stood a tall man, towering over her at just over six feet, his bright blue eyes seeming to pierce the very veil on her head as he looked over the wetness of her cheeks. He was tempted to speak with her, to say something of her fate to come, but he was quickly silenced as the priest began.
Bjarni was furious. It had been nearly a year ago that he'd sworn an oath to the king in exchange for the lives of his kin, and in that time he'd brought much fame and glory to the man. Yet still he could hear the whispers, the hushed talks if his heritage as a heathen. He felt little love for these people, for those who spit in his eyes at every turn because of one simple fact. He wanted nothing more than to leave, to return back to the very people he had been forced to fight.
Yet he knew such was beyond his grasp, he did not swear an oath to a foolish king. Time after time the king used Bjarni's actions to further bind him, used his honor to tie the warrior further to the lattice work that was the tapestry of this kingdom. Despite it all, Bjarni could not help but feel a begrudging respect for the man, the weak christian man who thought while Bjarni took action.
Bjarni had yet again found himself at odds with the man, having growled out his displeasure of not being recognized yet again. His name vacant from the history books that spoke of the many great battles his strategies, his mind, had brought to the king. He had nearly ended up in chains, had the queen her way and certainly he would have been.
That was how he found himself instead told he was to marry this very much christian girl. That in doing so was the only way in which this king would award him lands upon which he could prove his loyalty to the kingdom.
His people had no concept of marriage, relationships yes, but they did not believe any god was watching over the sanctity of such a thing. If a man was unfaithful then a woman could leave of her own accord, there was no binding contract between them. And yet that was what he was told this was, and it infuriated him.
He had no desire for this woman that walked towards him, it was not her looks he found appalling, but the sheer fact that he could tell she wanted nothing to do with this. He stood a tall man, towering over her at just over six feet, his bright blue eyes seeming to pierce the very veil on her head as he looked over the wetness of her cheeks. He was tempted to speak with her, to say something of her fate to come, but he was quickly silenced as the priest began.
Woot and the king of failed attempts goes to... Yeah so I've tried to do this one many times. Time after time I've gotten excited only to see my partner vanish. Here's the description and a starter I posted a while back. This one again was meant originally to be exploring a darker tone, so be warned.
RP advert:
Description: James has walked the earth for far longer than anyone should rightfully have, vampire or human. He's seen nations rise and fall, watched as his kind would fight among themselves, as humans fought. Frankly he's had enough, enough with the politics, with the drama, and with their constant begging for him to take a more active role in it all. So for the last decade he's been on his own. Living for as long as he had he never wanted for money, never had to work for it as his money made more than enough off interest alone for him to live quite comfortable.
That was until his connection at the blood bank died, a heart attack, something truly unavoidable. It was this that led James to the poor girl, led him by his hunger to attacking her. It wasn't until she had nearly been completely drained dry that he finally gained control of himself. He could have let her die, part of him wished he had, but he'd grown soft in his old age, he was no longer the cold blooded brute he once was, the 20th century and their damned ethics saw to that. So instead he turned her... Which is what led to his small, one bedroom apartment housing a soon to be vampire on his bed, his blood coursing through her as he waited uncomfortably for her to wake, his first spawn in centuries, and he didn't even know her name.
Attempted Starter (Technically the second post, but I really wanted to keep it.)
James' eyes settled on the woman, he had been lost in thought, trying to recall the last time he'd turned a woman, or a man for that matter. It was a distant hazy memory, one that made him frown as he thought on it, the height of the feudal ages. He missed those days dearly, going village to village and tearing into whoever he chose, humans none the wiser as it was nothing abnormal.
Then, as all good things must, those times came to an end, tempered by paintings and art, he still had children in those days, a coven that doted on him, treating him as the master he was, the elder he was. However children grow up, grow arrogant. Many killed one another to curry more of his favor, only succeeding in angering him, and then in time they went about their own buisness, James a long forgotten memory. In time they got over their anger, but by then James had no use for them, they sought out his wisdom, and for a time he shared it, but soon it grew tiresome.
When the oprotunity to go to the new world rose, he was eager to leave england, to abandon his ever needy children that spanned most of europe by that period. He found this new land covered in beasts, lycans they were called. They were amenable enough, though little better than humans in age and disposition. He allowed the humans to fight their wars, aiding in some of them for his own pleasure, but refusing from that point onward to create any more children, this was to be a new start after all, a retirement home so to speak.
Ages passed and feeding grew easier, James no longer needing to keep thralls to feed on as blood became more available. His children, as well as other clans of vampires followed in his wake as well, though they were careful to follow in his foot steps, most having been born into the world during this war, or old enough to know better.
His mind snapped focused as the girl stirred, her eyes settling on his own, a small smile creeping to his features as she didn't yell, "Ah, you aren't a screamer. That is most fortuitous for you. Had you screamed I might have lost my temper." He said his eyes set on her own, cold steely grey eyes that looked at her with dispassion, moving over towards her and appraising her, his eyes locking her in place with his will alone, easily overpowering one of his own blood, "You are lucky girl, it has been some time since I've slipped up... by all rights you should be facing the true death, but alas I was feeling sentimental last night." He stated as he released her from his will, allowing her to do as she wished, "I am your sire, it is unfortunately my task to teach you of the world you find yourself in." He said glancing back at her, smirking a bit as he thought of the outrage his children would feel towards this girl. The way others of their kind would attempt to flock to her given time, but he wouldn't allow that. She was his now, he would find a use for her, but he was not going to create a coven, not like before. He had conquered the known world once from the shadows his kind lurked in, he had no interest in doing so again.
"Come." He stated firmly, "You must feed, and the night will not last forever." He stated, the word would have shot jolts through her as he compulsed her to do so.
RP advert:
Description: James has walked the earth for far longer than anyone should rightfully have, vampire or human. He's seen nations rise and fall, watched as his kind would fight among themselves, as humans fought. Frankly he's had enough, enough with the politics, with the drama, and with their constant begging for him to take a more active role in it all. So for the last decade he's been on his own. Living for as long as he had he never wanted for money, never had to work for it as his money made more than enough off interest alone for him to live quite comfortable.
That was until his connection at the blood bank died, a heart attack, something truly unavoidable. It was this that led James to the poor girl, led him by his hunger to attacking her. It wasn't until she had nearly been completely drained dry that he finally gained control of himself. He could have let her die, part of him wished he had, but he'd grown soft in his old age, he was no longer the cold blooded brute he once was, the 20th century and their damned ethics saw to that. So instead he turned her... Which is what led to his small, one bedroom apartment housing a soon to be vampire on his bed, his blood coursing through her as he waited uncomfortably for her to wake, his first spawn in centuries, and he didn't even know her name.
Attempted Starter (Technically the second post, but I really wanted to keep it.)
James' eyes settled on the woman, he had been lost in thought, trying to recall the last time he'd turned a woman, or a man for that matter. It was a distant hazy memory, one that made him frown as he thought on it, the height of the feudal ages. He missed those days dearly, going village to village and tearing into whoever he chose, humans none the wiser as it was nothing abnormal.
Then, as all good things must, those times came to an end, tempered by paintings and art, he still had children in those days, a coven that doted on him, treating him as the master he was, the elder he was. However children grow up, grow arrogant. Many killed one another to curry more of his favor, only succeeding in angering him, and then in time they went about their own buisness, James a long forgotten memory. In time they got over their anger, but by then James had no use for them, they sought out his wisdom, and for a time he shared it, but soon it grew tiresome.
When the oprotunity to go to the new world rose, he was eager to leave england, to abandon his ever needy children that spanned most of europe by that period. He found this new land covered in beasts, lycans they were called. They were amenable enough, though little better than humans in age and disposition. He allowed the humans to fight their wars, aiding in some of them for his own pleasure, but refusing from that point onward to create any more children, this was to be a new start after all, a retirement home so to speak.
Ages passed and feeding grew easier, James no longer needing to keep thralls to feed on as blood became more available. His children, as well as other clans of vampires followed in his wake as well, though they were careful to follow in his foot steps, most having been born into the world during this war, or old enough to know better.
His mind snapped focused as the girl stirred, her eyes settling on his own, a small smile creeping to his features as she didn't yell, "Ah, you aren't a screamer. That is most fortuitous for you. Had you screamed I might have lost my temper." He said his eyes set on her own, cold steely grey eyes that looked at her with dispassion, moving over towards her and appraising her, his eyes locking her in place with his will alone, easily overpowering one of his own blood, "You are lucky girl, it has been some time since I've slipped up... by all rights you should be facing the true death, but alas I was feeling sentimental last night." He stated as he released her from his will, allowing her to do as she wished, "I am your sire, it is unfortunately my task to teach you of the world you find yourself in." He said glancing back at her, smirking a bit as he thought of the outrage his children would feel towards this girl. The way others of their kind would attempt to flock to her given time, but he wouldn't allow that. She was his now, he would find a use for her, but he was not going to create a coven, not like before. He had conquered the known world once from the shadows his kind lurked in, he had no interest in doing so again.
"Come." He stated firmly, "You must feed, and the night will not last forever." He stated, the word would have shot jolts through her as he compulsed her to do so.
Final words
Thank's for reading some of my lost musings! I hope to hear from some of you regarding them, feel free to reach out to me with brand new ideas too if any of these inspire you! I'm always looking for new and exciting roleplays :p
Last edited: