Joined: Jan 2008 Gender: Female Posts: 1 Location: Never never land Karma: 0
Thomas Kemp « Result #1 on May 2, 2008, 10:26am »
Name: Thomas Kemp
Gender: Male
Age: Looks 25, is 43.
Height (approx.): 5'9''
Eye Color: Honey brown.
Description: Thomas has untidy, short, red hair. His body is a rather fit, being a former rugby player. His left arm and left leg are gone and replaced by plastic apendages. These cause him to hobble more, as opposed to walk. He typically wears more loosefitting clothing along the lines of sweat shirts, trench coats, and baggier jeans. His face is round, freckled, and pale but pleasent. A cock-eyed optimist, he tries to remain smiling even in the worst of situations.
Bio: Thomas, referred to as Tom by friends, was born in the squeaky clean suburbs outside Minneapolis. He spent his high school years playing rugby and being a class clown. He went on to recieve a degree in business and became engaged to his high school sweetheart. His placid life was overthrown when he lost his left arm and leg in a car accident. (Always wear your seatbelt, kids!) The shock of his amputations led to a drinking problem, that he desperately tried to keep secret around his then pregnant fiance. One evening when he was travling home, blustering drunk, his luck took a turn for the worst again. He didn't see who it was or how it happened, but he was attacked. He found himself the next evening covered in blood and turned a vampire. He never returned to his betrothed and never got to meet his unborn child. After 18 years in his vampire condition, Thomas never found out who his maker was and why they turned him. Was it pity? Was it a sick joke? Was he meant for something more? He simply smiles and claims that it is none of the above but just bad luck.
Joined: Mar 2008 Gender: Female Posts: 8 Location: Chasing darkness like a dream. Karma: 0
Lilith Dalca « Result #2 on Mar 16, 2008, 8:28pm »
Name: Lilith Dalca
Gender: Female
Age: 79
Height: 5’6"
Eye Color: Dark brown
Description: Lilith is a classic beauty, with high cheekbones and delicate features. Her eyes are such a deep brown that the pupil blends with the iris in anything but the strongest light. Her hair is dark brown as well and is very long, trailing down to her waist. It falls down her back in waves and possesses a lustrous shine. Her complexion is very pale, as is a trait of most vampires. Contrasted against her dark hair, it seems entirely without color, a perfect white. As far as clothing goes, she is never seen in anything except a wide variety of beautiful dresses. Their styles do very, but she never wears anything else.
Bio: Lilith possessed the most remarkable voice, even when she was only a child. Her mother used to tell her that her voice was her ticket out of this place, out of the run down, two bedroom house and impoverished neighborhood that she, her mother, and two brothers lived in. Her ticked out of such poverty and squalor She took this to heart, and when she turned seventeen she traveled to New York City, in hopes that she would soon become the lead soprano in one of the city's operas. The younger of her two brothers, Benjamin, accompanied her, while her older brother, Richard, remained at home to take care of things there. She had promised them when she left that they would be able to leave this place for something better when she returned to them.
Lilith's charm and beauty, when combined with her incredible talent, opened doors for her only weeks after she arrived in New York. Within one month, she had acheived a secondary part in a production of Faust. She did not immediately rise above this status, but continued to sing lesser parts in two operas that followed her first. However, one year after she sang her first part in Faust, she was granted the lead role in Madame Butterfly. The lead soprano had been dubbed past her season and replaced by the youthful, innocent Lilith, who seemed perfect for the role to be played, that of the young Butterfly. Lilith was very cheered over this ascent in her good fortune, and wrote a letter to the her mother and brother who she had left back in Michigan, claiming that she would have enough saved to buy them all a nice Victorian home in the space of a year.
However, it was not to be. For there was a vampire in the crowd on the night of her performance who was as entranced by the youthful purity of her voice as the rest. The young man, whom she soon came to know as Lord Derek, turned her on this night. When Benjamin came to escort her from the theatre, his sister was no longer there. After a year's search, he returned to what remained of their family in Michigan, believing his sister dead.
Lilith is now one of Lord Derek's devoted fledglings, and has not retained any of her former innocence. She is somewhat difficult to keep in check, for she believes humans to be nothing more than a food source and will kill, though she is wise enough to do so discriminately.Other than her Lord, she is loyal to no one, and possesses no compassion.
Those who dream by day are cogzignant of things that escape those who dream by night. -Poe
Joined: Feb 2008 Gender: Female Posts: 40 Location: Beyond what can be seen here. Karma: 1
Re: A Terrible Night for a Stroll. « Result #3 on Mar 15, 2008, 9:03pm »
So he taught French. Perhaps that explained the way he spoke? No, there was more to it than that. When she had taken Spanish in high school her teacher had spoken standard, uninfluenced English when she wasn't teaching. He must be from France.
She nearly rolled her eyes at herself when she noticed this turn of thought. What difference did it make, anyway? Well, it did make Demetri a mysterious and intrigueing character. If they'd had time, she would have launched into a series of questions meant to uncover the truth of his origin. Had it really been France, she would have asked him what is was like there. What was the culture like? How where the people there different from those here? Had he ever visited the Paris catacombs? And what was Paris itself like? It must be magnificent...
But there was no time. She saw her apartment building now, a plain rectangular structure of yellow brick. They had nearly pulled even with it. She found herself trying to cram a last answer into the space of seconds. "What type of Art History would you teach? Modern or..." She trailed off, the seconds winding down before she could finish. They were directly in front of her building. There walk had ended, and with it their conversation.
"...Rennaisance." She finished anyway, with a dissapointed sigh. If only...No, she shouldn't think along those lines. Thinking about what could be, or what may have been only served to make her miserable.
She looked toward the door that would lead into the harshly lit hallway that would lead to her very silent, still apartment. "We're here." She said, trying to keep her voice steady when it seemed intent on trailing into nothing. She was being unreasonable. It was late, both of them had to return to where they lived. There was nothing else for it.
She slipped his jacket off her shoulders and draped it over the cloak, handing both items to Demetri. She wondered if the air of finality that seemed to accompany this act was all in her head. She did have a tendency to assign meaning to even the smallest, most trivial acts.
She lifted her gaze to meet his. If she had to say goodbye, she wasn't going to stare at the ground while she did so. "Thank you," She began, hating the hollow sound of the words. When someone saved you from a pack of lustful inebriates, you owed them far more than an expression that no longer meant anything to anyone. Unfortunately, until someone invented something more meaningful, it was all she had to offer. "for helping me." She elaborated, struggling to find the words. "For proving me wrong."
Now, this last may seem a mysterious phrase to Demetri, even though it made perfect sense to her. When that man had grabbed her, she'd never thought that someone would arrive to help her. Such things didn't happen to girls like her. She had learned to get out of such messes on her own, unless she'd rather face the outcome. When she'd realized how much trouble she was in, she'd never even hoped that someone would arrive to help her out of it. She was too busy thinking about what she would do to them if they dared to proceed any further. She would have knifed them, even though she had known doing so would probably provoke them into hurting her. Everything had seemed very dark to her then.
So how could she thank him for redeeming the situation? She didn't know. There was nothing she could say.
She took a single uneasy step backward, unsure of how he would respond or what she should do now. Was she supposed to dissapear into the apartment building, now that she had thanked him? What were the social guidelines for such things? She did not know, and so she just stood there, indecisive, and waited for him to answer.
To be nobody but yourself in a world that's doing it's best to make you somebody else is to fight the hardest battle you are ever going to fight. Never stop fighting. -e. e. cummings
"Greetings... I am Death... Please, have a seat..."
Joined: Mar 2006 Gender: Male Posts: 103 Location: How trivial . . . Karma: 101
Re: A Terrible Night for a Stroll. « Result #4 on Mar 12, 2008, 9:48pm »
“I teach French, actually.” he replies as though he were waiting for someone to turn it into a joke, “I’m hoping to pick up the Art History position though. Rumor has it that the current professor is pondering retirement.”
Demetri gazes again toward the sky. The sun is rising. Light is poking through some of the clouds. He must not stare at the rays; otherwise he would risk loosing his vision temporarily. He moves subtly toward the shade so as to minimize and the indirect contact with the sun. He should be all right, provided that he bolts home. Thank God for the rain.
As the two walk farther along, they come to Avalon Road. The change in surroundings is fairly drastic. The area is older, but not nearly as shady. He suspects that a lot of college students take up residence in this corner of town. The old, somewhat dilapidated buildings provide cheap rent and fit nicely into a low budget. He smiles to himself. He notes carelessly that he recalls what they looked like when they were new. Furthermore, he can remembers a time when there was nothing there at all.
He almost regrets that it is so early. The girl provides interesting company, which is not easy to find these days. But all good things must come to an end.
Conrad Maurice « Result #5 on Mar 6, 2008, 8:01pm »
Name (first and last, if applicable): Conrad Maurice
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Height (approx.): 6 ft
Eye Color: Brown
Description: Wirey, course, and slightly greasy looking black hair. He's not particularly handsome, but he does have a sort dark version of the unshaven, wild-western rugged look to him.
Bio: Conrad Maurice is one of the last members of a dying vampire hunter order. He does have various vampire tracking and killing devices on his person, and is generally very paranoid (given his profession, this is not that uncommon). He's not entirely incompetent at what he does, though there has been a sure fire lack of vampires to hunt, meaning he seldomly get practice. It's only pure stuborness that has kept him going through the years, despite the dirty looks, almost constant debt, damage and resisting-arrest charges (hey, things get messy when you're on a hunt; things happen and they usually end with someone calling the cops), and a plethora of other discrediblities to his name. He is wise enough not to dress in traditional vampire hunting garbs, as it would look entirely ridiculous in this day and age.
Those who dream by day are cogzignant of things that escape those who dream by night. -Poe
Joined: Feb 2008 Gender: Female Posts: 40 Location: Beyond what can be seen here. Karma: 1
Re: A Terrible Night for a Stroll. « Result #6 on Mar 6, 2008, 3:59am »
Only another block? That woke her from her state of lethargy and encroaching hysteria. Ick, that was an ugly word. She was lucky she was so easily distracted by other things. It was how she had held herself together on many an occasion.
She lifted her gaze from the cracked sidewalk upon which it had settled and prepared to answer him, refusing to let another word pass unnoticed through her flagging mind. True, it had been a rough night and focusing was no small accomplishment, but she was already mourning the moment they must separate. She was dreading the return to normality. The excitement of this night would keep her going for a while longer, but not forever. Sooner or later the depression that had left her so crippled for so long would drag her down once more. It was what had driven her out into the streets tonight, and sooner or later it would drive her back into that same half-suicidal habit. Her heightened fear of attack would not keep her inside during these ungodly hours for long. Once her destructive sense of existential despair returned to her, even that powerful sense of self-preservation would fade.
Fortunately, the events of this night would fascinate her for a while longer, a month or even two, assuming that something else didn't traumatize her within the next few weeks. Such things happened to her quite often. It seemed that everytime she had managed to free herself from her latest decline into manic depression, she would find herself dragged into one of the many facets of a perpetual family fued. It was a mess that she always felt obliged to redeem in any way she could, only to find herself unsuccessful and half-mad with frustration and recieved guilt by the end of it. Even though she now lived a thousand some miles from them, they would not leave her in peace. She still received one of their agitating messages on a weekly basis. Someone was always angry at somebody, and she was their favorite mediator. Only because she had less trouble keeping such arguments in perspective.
It was ironic that she, the girl who could neither sleep or eat on many an occasion due to an oft occuring depression-anxiety problem, maintained a clearer vision of events than her uninflicted relatives. Well, uninflicted might not be the right word for it...
She spoke brightly, stubbornly ending this chain of thought. "It's really not too late? How fortunate! I already have copies of my transcript and ACT test scores. I'll just have to fill out an application..." Her mind was reeling with the idea. She was already thinking of the classes that she could take.
"I wonder if there are classes that teach sculpture...or fencing!" A two-year college in the city that had bordered her town had offered this last, though it sadly lacked courses in 3-D design.
Suddenly remembering what Demetri had said of teaching at the University, she looked at him. "What classes do you teach?" She asked, very interested in the answer. In a subconscious gesture, she lifted her hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear and immediately realized that she had let Derek leave without his cloak. Oops.
She nearly mentioned this to Demetri, but noticed that he seemed much more at ease now that his...brother was gone. She didn't want to interrupt his good mood when their walk would not last that much longer. She'd just have to ask him to take it when it was time for him to leave. It was an eventuality that she was not looking forward to, but one that was fast arriving.
To be nobody but yourself in a world that's doing it's best to make you somebody else is to fight the hardest battle you are ever going to fight. Never stop fighting. -e. e. cummings
"Greetings... I am Death... Please, have a seat..."
Joined: Mar 2006 Gender: Male Posts: 103 Location: How trivial . . . Karma: 101
Re: A Terrible Night for a Stroll. « Result #7 on Mar 5, 2008, 3:50pm »
“We’re not far at all. Only another block or so.” he says lightly. He pauses for a moment. Now that the man-child is gone he might actually be able to have a decent conversation with this girl.
“You know, I’m actually a professor at one of the Universities farther down town. We have a late admission deadline that you just might meet. Provided that you can get your application together in time.” he states off-handedly, “It may not be the place you initially wanted to go, but wherever that is will most likely accept transfer credit.”
He walks alongside her with a little lighter in his step. Derek’s absence has improved his mood. The tension is gone. Even with dawn’s approach, Demetri seems quite at ease. The strain between the two of them has been growing over the last fifty years. Ever since Derek decided to play “Vampire Lord” and sire his many followers, Demetri has had a growing distaste for him. His little “coven” nothing more than a pack of drooling sycophants. Eternal children rallying around their sniveling vampire messiah.
Derek is getting everything he ever wanted. Constant attention from dimwitted admirers who do nothing but tell him how wonderful he is. They live a life of wasteful decadence and high school-like drama. Needless to say, Demetri cannot stand any of them. Further still, he is enraged by the fact that Derek has the audacity to think of him as one of these followers. The day he bows to “Lord Derek Brennan” will be the day that hell freezes over.
Those who dream by day are cogzignant of things that escape those who dream by night. -Poe
Joined: Feb 2008 Gender: Female Posts: 40 Location: Beyond what can be seen here. Karma: 1
Re: A Terrible Night for a Stroll. « Result #8 on Feb 28, 2008, 7:31pm »
Evelyn stares at Demetri, unable to believe that anyone as educated, well-dressed, and elegant as him would ever stop by Wisconsin. She knew she was being unfair to the state she'd grown up in. She'd even loved it for most of her life. There was something to be said for the forests, rock formations, trail systems, and the local wildlife populations that could be found there. But dear god, the ignorance of some of those people! The majority of her family on her father's side were stereotypical rednecks. She had hated family gatherings. She had once gotten into such a heated debate with her grandfather over the plight of wolves in the state that a cousin of hers actually stood and left the table, claiming that the argument was getting too intense for him.
Still, she'd been very fond of her state until she'd left it. It was only when she returned after an abscence of two years that she'd realized that all was not as perfect as she had chosen to remember it. Not even close.
All of this floods her mind when Demetri mentions his visit to her place of origin, but it fades just as quickly as it had arrived when he moved on to remind her that such people existed everywhere. She winces when he alludes to the men that had detained her. Reality had just chosen that moment to clarify the incident for her, and she fully realized now just how badly the situation would have turned out if Demetri hadn't helped her. A scenerio began to form in her head, but she squeezes her eyes shut and banishes it. She'd rather not visit such a terrible outcome. It frightened her too much. Enough that she had decided years ago that she would rather meet an untimely death than allow someone to violate her like that.
She'd like to think that, somehow, she would have escaped the situation; but she was not fooled. As good as she was at getting out of the messes she got herself into, this one had been beyond her, and she knew it.
Her pace falters, slows, as the horror of the entire mess sinks it's claws into her. She takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself down. She was behaving erratically. It seemed that fear could make a lasting impression on her after all. She did not feel well.
She stops and blinks slowly when Derek takes her hand. He had decided to take his leave already. "Goodbye," She says softly, no longer herself. Whatever that was. There were a few different versions, but this frightened, weakened girl was not one of them.
"How much farther?" She murmurs, without looking up. Once again, her thoughts had become such a mess that she could not recognise where she was.
To be nobody but yourself in a world that's doing it's best to make you somebody else is to fight the hardest battle you are ever going to fight. Never stop fighting. -e. e. cummings
Lord Derek Fresh Victum Young Lord member is offline
Joined: Feb 2008 Gender: Male Posts: 16 Location: In the darkness of all hearts Karma: 1
Re: A Terrible Night for a Stroll. « Result #9 on Feb 28, 2008, 7:17pm »
As time runs on, Derek becomes increasingly uneasy. But, he would never show that. He is a Lord after all. He must maintain his state of calm. He looks up at the sky, clenching his teeth. I’m so glad that you are enjoying yourself so, but if you keep drawing this little stroll out you are going to get yourself killed, Demetri. His telepathic message goes unacknowledged. How dare he ignore him, his maker! This is becoming an annoying habit. He will have to teach him a lesson later on, but for now he feels more and more inclined to flee.
“Well, Demetri. You seem to have everything taken care of. I am no longer needed.” he sneers, “I shall leave you without further disturbance.”
He cuts in front of the two and gives another long sweeping bow, taking Evelyn’s hand once again. He kisses it. “Until twilight, m’lady.” he murmurs, seductively. And with that he pivots dramatically and streaks away the opposite direction.
"Greetings... I am Death... Please, have a seat..."
Joined: Mar 2006 Gender: Male Posts: 103 Location: How trivial . . . Karma: 101
Re: A Terrible Night for a Stroll. « Result #10 on Feb 28, 2008, 6:18pm »
“Yes, actually. They don’t call them cheese heads for nothing, Mlle.” he laughs, this girl would not last a minute in the Victorian Era, “But at the same time, dear, this place is not much better. There are men, as I’m sure you have realized that think they have the right to rape a woman on a public square. Worst still, there are not a lot of people willing to sit back and watch it happen. Moral depravity is rampant.”
He adjusts his collar. “There was a time when men like that would have been dragged out and hung by the nearest tree branch. And by the towns people no less.” he says ruefully. There are times when he misses the old ways of dealing with criminals. Rapist and murders generally got what they deserved in his day. No questions asked. Streamline justice. Those where the days.
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