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Post by shades on Dec 17, 2017 13:22:25 GMT -5
[ the real question is will Mickey and Mitch ever meet? ]
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 17, 2017 13:24:21 GMT -5
{ if they do it'll be a wild ride for everyone either it will turn into a competition to see who has the bigger ego or they'll start sharing hair care secrets }
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Post by servalstrike on Dec 17, 2017 14:01:53 GMT -5
( I'll finish my reply for poor darling Abbud then work one up for calamity jane. mickey, my friend, is the heart and soul of this rp and we'd be lost without him)
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 17, 2017 14:02:22 GMT -5
There were few things that Alistair begrudgingly respected about the alliance, even fewer still were the things he actually liked about it. But the young man that strode up behind him had a place on neither list. The existence of the alliance between vampires and hunters was an insult to the Morgenstern Coven as a whole, but Nathanβ or whatever his name was βwas a stain on the Morgenstern family themselves.
Alistair turned a cool gaze on the young hunter his dearest little sister was partnered with. The Stokerβs matriarch had been deeply apologetic at the circumstances, assuring their family that she had no daughters left to spare as a suitable partner for the Morgensternβs only daughter. Being saddled with an insufferable human that he was expected to call his equal was bad enough, but Nate sat at the top of the list of indiginities brought on by the Stokers. To be paired off with a nameless hunter like the one before him was an affront to their prestige, one that Petra should not be forced to suffer.
However, the hunterβs appearance provided Alistair with an opportunity.
βPlease, make yourself at home,β the vampire said, gesturing to the space at his side. He smiled, an expression violently at odds with his innermost thoughts.
βYouβll have to forgive me, it was getting a touch cramped inside. I thought Iβd come out here for some air.β Alistair let his eyes wander back to the snow-laden scene that stretched before them. The Stoker mansion was tucked away in forests embracing Paradise City. Miles from the cityβs everlasting motionβ endless noise and light and commotion βbut not so far that theyβd be kept away from an emergency should one spring up.
He stared off into the woods, draped in powdery white finery. Had the sounds of the party not spilled out the door and onto the patio, Alistair was sure that the night would be as quiet as the dead. Just another infuriating aspect of tonightβs events, he supposed. Humans sure did like noise, didnβt they? Maybe silence reminded them of their mortality, of their finite existence. So they filled every space they could find with as much needless clamor as they could muster.
Alistair began, βYouβre my sisterβs hunting partner, arenβt you? How long have you been a hunter?β There was no suitable answer the young man could give. Nothing would appease the Morgenstern at this point. He could say heβd been hunting for a hundred years and it still wouldnβt be enough. They were trusting him to take care of their sister, of the Morgensternβs only daughter. His job was to keep her safe and nothing else. One hundred years of experience wasnβt enough to earn Alistairβs respect. The only chance Nathanael had of receiving even a drop of favor was if he stopped being Petraβs partner altogether.
Otherwise, the poor boy didnβt stand a chance.
The vampire looked him up and down, noting his wiry figure. There were some who might consider someone like him to be beautiful with his dark curls highlighting the olive tones of his skin. Where they saw a lithe, agile form, Alistair saw an odd fragility. Where they saw handsome features, Alistair saw dark under-eye shadows. The bags beneath his eyes were overly-striking for the Morgenstern, a bold proclamation of the owners frail humanity. He was more suited to a glass cabinet than a night of hunting.
All these thoughts, of course, Alistair was careful to keep hidden beneath a pleasant mask. Careful to never let the hunter glimpse what lay behind the vampire's stormy eyes.
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Post by shades on Dec 17, 2017 14:42:40 GMT -5
[ before i make a reply for nathanael i am doing a post for arthur so people can have other places for their poor sweet characters to go. ]
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Post by servalstrike on Dec 17, 2017 14:47:30 GMT -5
It had been twenty years since Abbud learned that Paradise City was anything but a paradise. Twenty long years and he still dreaded New Years, just another notch on his belt. A reminder of his unwanted immortality. He disliked parties as well, didnβt like the crowds or loud music. And yet he stood in one of the most boisterous clubs of the city. Awkwardly watching the crowd ripple and dance as they gave way to the new year. Everyone there was hungry for something. A better year. The touch of another person. Excitement and a good laugh. Some were just hungrier than othersβ¦
Abbud disliked that as well, watching the vampires among the club-goers stalking the humans. Licking their lips with anticipation of their next meal, soon to come it would seem. Abbud crossed his arms and deeper into his crevice. He caught a familiar face among the crowd, a woman. A vampire like himself and one of the members of his Vampire Support Group, for bitten vampires who are just trying to cope with their new un-lives. And the only reason he came out tonight.
His support group thought it would do him some good to get out of his house and have a good time. Heβd spent the first part of the night with his Mother, celebrating with her as they usually did. She cooked dinner and he ate her food, and then got very sick afterwards. Until she went to bed early, as she usually did. Then Abbud had the rest of the night to himself, which he didnβt really think was a good thing.
Abbud was hungry after all, it had been a few days since heβd fed and it was starting to gnaw at him. Twenty years, and he still had trouble harming an innocent person and the bad ones werenβt always easy to find.
Abbud was reminded of that deep unending hunger as a gaggle of giggling girls passed him and their scent caught in his nose. His eyes watered at the tempting scent, he gripped his arms tighter and tried not to look at anyone. Clenching his jaw he tried to think of something else, anything to keep him from either tackling someone right there in the club or fleeing the scene altogether.
Deep breaths. In and out. The way heβd been doing for years.
Once heβd reigned in his hunger, his instinct to kill, he proceeded to slip through the crowd. Careful, so careful, to not touch any humans. Abbud made his way over to the bar, like it was a piece of debris and he was on a sinking ship in a sea full of sharks and salmon. He was being dramatic of course, heβd been hungrier than he was now and had been able to control himself -barely-.
He noticed three other vampires mingling at the bar when he arrived. One was...interesting to look at. Abbud couldnβt tell whether the vampire was male or female and the clothes didnβt help him come to any conclusions. They seemed to take up more space just by the air they breathed, their presence was one of colorful domination and an air of self-appointed self-importance. Abbud knew, in some instinctive way, that that vampire was more powerful than he and that it was best if he didnβt get too close.
The other vampire, a girl with blonde curls, was clearly not at all welcome by the Cotton-Candy Lord and whether or not she knew that was also a mystery to poor Abbud. Her confidence was something Abbud envied, but not her stupidity.
And the third and final vampire was one that Abbud knew, or at least, knew of. The way Cotton-Candy Dandy almost admired, if not simply respected, must have meant that she was more powerful than he. Whether that power came from wealth and prestige or sheer strength was to be determined later. Still, Abbud knew that when bigger predators were in the water he was to swim away. On the other hand, his curiosity was not one of his better virtues.
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Post by servalstrike on Dec 17, 2017 14:48:06 GMT -5
( And here is my darling sweet Abbud in case anyone wants to make a new friend)
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 17, 2017 14:51:44 GMT -5
{ !!!! what a good boy <3
sounds like a plan shades i wanna see what this boy is like in action! }
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Post by shades on Dec 17, 2017 14:57:46 GMT -5
[ i'd like to apologize that Maverick isn't even a made character and yet he's so chill. i made him to be someone that Arthur could live with and learn from but then they just end up at a rundown dingy bar together and maverick ditches arthur to make him better at social situations and arthur is like the old 'wat' woman ]
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Post by shades on Dec 17, 2017 15:21:10 GMT -5
Most the time they spent indoors, and after that, it felt foreign to βgo outβ on holidays and expose themselves to the lust-ridden Paradise City. That is tonight, one day before the new year, snow falling. They lay on Maverickβs dirty bedroom floor, side-by-side, with their legs up on the bed, listening to the television and the proclamation of βNew Yearβ and chain-smoking one slight crumpled Marlboro after the other, not talking, just appreciating each otherβs company. Thick black dreadlocks and brown strands splayed out on the carpet and mingling together with the proximity of their heads like vanilla and chocolate cake. Then out of nowhere, Maverick just started explaining, holding his hands up in exaggerated gestures above his face.
By this point they were both smiling, Maverick at the fond tales of his adventures; and Arthur, his friend, from the deliberately and carefully constructed words that filled the room. Maverick had been in Germany at the time of the war. He never bit anyone, he claims, but the spoils were wonderful themselves. Arthur had been a victim of another culling during the time, but other fangs. He had explained: it was simply the right time they had met.
When he found out that instead of dying he lived forever, Arthur cried, as Maverick watched somberly while kneeling beside him. There was no celebration of his creation, he couldnβt go home; Maverick was most generous to offer him to stay, with him for a while.
It starts as merely companionable silence; Arthur and Maverick have never really been βsocialβ before, and they quickly get agitated and bored of the other. Snarky prompting the other to talk. Maverick explains heβs been alone for nearly four hundred years, after his own former coven disbanded.
Arthur wasnβt sure how old Maverick was. Each year he seemed to become one with the βtrendsβ and lose that old nature to him all over.
βAnd thenβhey, you listening Arty?β Maverick eventually pauses in story, snapping his head towards the younger vampire.
βMhmβ yeah.β Arthur never was able to completely change, it was like living life in black and white when there was a whole world of color surrounding him. He preferred simple clothing, though found a fondness with flannels, and despised anything more than crud technology. However, Maverick was a hedonistic junkie for the βdeveloping worldβ so Arthurβs minimalist ways were often disrupted by the complexities in life.
βHey, that bar down the streetβ¦β Arthur began, lolling his head towards his companion, βthe one that didnβt question if I was under aged or not.β
He was, technically, frozen as an underage teenager. The question goes unspoken.
Maverick chuckles in answer and sits up, and itβs pleasantly quiet and relaxed again for a while as they get ready to head out; breaking the very unspoken law they made when it came to holidays. They leave the small apartment with a click of the door, jangle of the keys, and exiting the building in a hurried manner through the snow thankful the plows have driven by recently.
βAh the lovebirds!β The bartender greets with a smile.
Arthur looks affronted though, that they had been mistaken for a couple. Maverick just laughs, while he dramatically stretches and rests his arm around Arthur, winking at his companion. βOh definitely. Weβd like some drinks, please and thank you.β
Maverick holds out his hand and ushers Arthur into a bar seat, talking animatedly to the bartender. βYou know, they always say the crime rate drops for most holidays except Valentineβs and New Yearβs.β
βWhat time do you come from?β The bartender huffs, βI thought people got laid more often these days. Going into the new year with a bang.β
Arthur snorted into the drink that was handed to him, Maverick laughed and continued to carry conversation.
- -
Some time passes before Maverick ends up excusing himself and disappearing. βExcuse me,β Arthur waves to the bartender. His voice is quiet, and thereβs a gentle nervous quiver to it, as though Arthur is trying to hard to keep it confident, and the strain it creates only draws attention to the fact that his voice isnβt steady at all.
The bartender looks up, the same one having chatted up a storm with Maverick, and nods. Preparing another drink for the younger man. Itβs nightfall, the snow drifting in languid flakes onto the ground, Arthur watches. His head is still lowered in shyness, he sips his drink carefully.
His hair is cropped short, thicker and messier than ever, heβs stuck at five foot eight, still. With his green oversized flannel, the laces of his shoes undone and trailing onto the ground from their propped position on the stool, and his wide eyes avoiding contact with the other patrons and nursing his drink; Arthur looks a really odd sight sitting in the middle of a fairly sketchy medium-sized bar on New Years. Anyone would have laughed at him walking by.
___________________________________________________
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Post by servalstrike on Dec 17, 2017 15:28:35 GMT -5
( Oh my lord! Arty is such a cutie! what a sweetheart! )
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 17, 2017 15:34:27 GMT -5
{ awwww maverick and arty are such cuties! }
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Post by Salted Squid on Dec 17, 2017 15:40:48 GMT -5
{ mickey is a national treasure but the real question is: will he ever get the chance to meet skylar? } The thought of this makes me want to throw her at him Though there's like a 0.5% chance she'd ever wander into Hype))
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Post by servalstrike on Dec 17, 2017 15:42:46 GMT -5
( well that's a .5% chance you gotta be willing to take aviva! a mickey-skylar interaction would be fun to watch! )
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Post by servalstrike on Dec 17, 2017 15:59:12 GMT -5
The grin that alighted Hawthornβs did neither fade nor flicker at the snark that came spitting out of Mickeyβs mouth. All his nastiness rolled off her like water off a duckβs back. With a good-natured laugh Hawthorn simply chuckled and waved her hand, dismissing his silliness about square dancing and what not. βNo, Mickey, havenβt lost my way. Iβm right where I wanna be.β
Hawthorn tried to never let herself get offended too easily. βSpecially when dealing with someone as vain as Mickey. Someone who treated the morning like the sun came up just to hear him crow. βAw, Mickey, my name ainβt Cowgirl Betty. Itβs Hawthorn Dixon! And a pleasure to meet you too.β Her vibrant smile and undaunted charm were the perfect armor against the poison tipped arrows of Mickeyβs words.
A newcomer sauntered her way over to Mickey as well. Just as nicely dressed as Mickey, which was something Hawthorn couldnβt have guessed was possible. She was a born vampire. Hawthorn couldnβt tell by the lack of any visible bite mark, but by the way the girl carried herself. Like she owned the place, with her nose so high sheβd drown in a rainstorm. But, Hawthorn didnβt judge books by their covers.
Something about the pale girl was familiar to Hawthorn. She just couldnβt put her finger on itβ¦ Then Mickey said her name and it all clicked into place. A Morgenstern? The only Morgenstern daughter no less! Chatting with Mickey like they were old pals and new friends.
Hawthornβs expression faltered for only a moment, her surprise visible for only a moment before it was quickly absorbed into a newly widening smile. βPetra Morgenstern, of the pre-sti-geous Morgensterns! Pleasure to make yer acquaintance! I name is Hawthorn Dixon!β Hawthorn jutted out her hand to the Morgenstern, her eyes gleaming in the dim lights of the club.
βAh, Mickey, itβs been a real treat talking to ya. I coulda done it all night but how are we gonna make new friends if we just sit here all night?β Completely ignoring his blatant dismissal of her, she winked then finally turned away. In search of someone new to chat it up with.
One vampire, messy and dark fidgeted by the bar. Hawthorn could tell by the hunger in his eyes that he was trying to control himself. A distraction would be good for him but she decided to leave him alone when a flannel shirt caught her eye. Another vampire, looking a little undone and alone as Hawthorn took him in from his untied shoelaces to his fluffy hair.
Hawthorn strolled over to Green Flannel and rested her elbows on the counter beside him. βI like yer shirt,β she chirped. βNot many people in this club,β shooting a glance to Mickey and Petra Morgenstern, βappreciate a good flannel shirt. Nameβs Hawthorn, and you?β
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Post by Salted Squid on Dec 17, 2017 16:28:06 GMT -5
I suppose she might go in to escape the cold, not knowing that the place is a vampire feeding ground... And since I've got no clue how to start with Grace yet I guess that it'd be as good a starter as any!))
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 17, 2017 18:00:32 GMT -5
{ okay! so! i've been thinking about the vamp/human cops and i think i'm gonna use pheebs because five characters is a pushing my limits but i don't want to scrap phoebe
i love her too much for that }
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Post by πΎππππππππ on Dec 17, 2017 18:24:24 GMT -5
[ I'll get Rhys' form and starter done at some point today xD ]
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Post by shades on Dec 17, 2017 19:12:37 GMT -5
[ only if she's canonical married to Michie ]
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 17, 2017 19:25:20 GMT -5
{ phoebe keddie it is! things get personal when *gasp* mitch survives a would-be gruesome murder he escapes with his life ... but at what cost? }
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Post by Salted Squid on Dec 17, 2017 19:25:55 GMT -5
Skylar couldn't remember ever feeling so alone in her life. So... isolated.
Sure, she was in college. Her dorm was surrounded by others, each of which housed a student or two. But how many of them could say that they were going through what she was? How many of them stood in their dorm bathrooms, staring at themselves in the mirror? At the fangs that protruded from their pale gumline, that seemed so awfully out of place? Not very many, she was sure.
Her stomach had been growling nonstop all day now. She hadn't eaten anything in... she couldn't even remember, actually. She was hungrier than she'd ever been. And yet the thought of the food rapidly going stale in her mini fridge turned her stomach. It wasn't what her body wanted. She knew what that was. And the thought of it terrified her beyond belief.
Feeling queasy, she stumbled from the bathroom into the bedroom, over to the fridge. Pulling open the door, she stared at the steak that rested on the top shelf. Uncooked, with juices seeping out onto the plate. She could see the fang marks on it, from where she had fed from it before. But she couldn't bring herself to touch it now. It wasn't what she needed; she could see that in the pallor of her skin and the dark veins that snaked up her arms. She was getting malnourished. Stale blood would only sustain her for so long.
She closed the fridge, feeling herself trembling. She was going to have to go out. I'll go hunting, maybe find myself a rabbit or a stray cat. Something like that.
The thought of that, too, made her feel bad. Yet it was better than nothing.
Wearily she stumbled over to the chair where she had last slung her coat. She was shaking so bad that it took her three tries to put it on before she trudged over to the door. Thankfully the hall was clear-- she'd probably be carted off to the ER if anyone saw how ragged and ill she looked, and then she would be asked the kind of questions that she would rather not answer. Barely able to stand upright, she made her way to the elevator, down to the first floor, and out into the night.
~β’~
Half an hour later-- tired, frustrated, and soaked to the skin thanks to the light snow that had begun to fall-- Skylar knew that she couldn't go any farther. She stopped to catch her breath, her legs shaking and her toes numb from the cold. In her trek she hadn't spotted a single soul, human or otherwise; or maybe she was too sick and weak to notice the ones she may have passed.
As she stood still, sucking in deep breaths as much as she could manage, a scent tickled her nostrils, catching her attention. Salty and metallic, mixed with the smell of human sweat, it didn't take a genius to tell what it was. Saliva flooded her mouth as she looked around, finally spotting what appeared to be some sort of nightclub across the street. With hunger overwhelming her senses, she stalked across the street, past the line, and straight up to the bouncer at the door.
"Excuse me," she said, looking the big man directly in the eye, before pushing right past him, and if he tried to stop her she didn't notice. The smell of blood was stronger in here, overwhelming her senses. The thick of tbe fray seemed to be around the bar, and she stalked toward it, weaving through the crowd. She licked her lips as she spotted a man, undoubtedly human, sitting at the bar, and as she did so she felt her fangs scrape the skin on her tongue.
Yes. This one'll do.
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Post by Salted Squid on Dec 17, 2017 19:26:41 GMT -5
Yay, finally got up a starter for my dear <3 ))
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Post by servalstrike on Dec 17, 2017 19:29:43 GMT -5
( I know skylar doesn't mean it but if she hurts a cat i'll cry )
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 17, 2017 19:30:06 GMT -5
{ yeah! skylar going in for the kill }
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Post by Salted Squid on Dec 17, 2017 19:33:10 GMT -5
I figure Mickey'll probably have a bone to pick with her style right off the bat xD))
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 17, 2017 19:52:22 GMT -5
{ oh mickey will have plenty of critiques for skylar trust me }
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Post by Salted Squid on Dec 17, 2017 19:53:02 GMT -5
I can hardly wait!
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Post by shades on Dec 17, 2017 20:00:04 GMT -5
[ yess! That sounds tremendous. On another note, I have been cleaning my apartment for two hours and wow has it never smelled so nice. I'll reply to Nathanael and hopefully Arthur.
Also, do we want to wait to bring in the cops until the next morning after a another murder has happened or shall we bring them in during the night? ]
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Post by ππππΎππ»πΊπ½ππΎπ on Dec 17, 2017 20:10:48 GMT -5
{ hmm we could wait till morning BUT while we're on the topic i want to run a plot idea by you guys okay, so: hype raid some of the hunters are out doing their thing instead of partying so what if some of them find the club and are like "wow. this place is crawling with vampires!" and decide to raid the place everything breaks out into chaos. things go from there and in the morning, the cops show up like "what the heck happened here?" edit: alternatively Lea someone realizes petra is missing from the party and peeps go looking for her }
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Post by Salted Squid on Dec 17, 2017 20:13:50 GMT -5
That'd give me something to do with Grace! Being the eldest Stoker, it'd kinda make sense for her to be leading the raid while mommy dearest keeps an eye on things at the party back home))
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