a new age ,, « Result #1 on Oct 27, 2008, 5:19pm »
the year is 2020 and a lot has happened since you last left us. but of course things are different than what the history books wrote. they say that some people died, but they didn't. they lived to spawn more evil. but there was someone or something out there. now don't get me wrong, you-know-who is long dead. along with most of his followers. but there are some of those followers left. who didn't want the world to go to the good. they sought out someone. someone powerful. there has been rumors but nobody knows who he or she is. all we know is someone is gathering followers. and fast. our hero died just two years ago. thats when it all started. along with his friends. people are dying. and quick. but there has been rumors. us kids hear things, you know? of a group gathering, dumbledore's army. but can anyone truly gather in time to save us? it's a new age and time. but can you handle it?
who am i? just a kid who knows a little too much. i think, i think i hear them comin....
Oracle Registration -- Belladonna Cain « Result #2 on Sept 18, 2008, 7:55pm »
Character Name: Belladonna Cain Character Age: 24 Patron God/dess: Artemis Why do you want to be an Oracle?: To help find a way, through devine communication, to bring back the light. Role Play Sample: [See Dimitri.] How did you come to find BSE?: [edited]. Word to verify that you read the rules?: [edited].
Vampire Registration - Roshana Trevalion « Result #3 on Sept 18, 2008, 11:35am »
Name:Roshana Trevalion Age of Vampire: 837 Age your character will look: Twenty Four What made you decide to create a vampire character?:Because I love Ros. And now she’s a vampire, I can’t see her as anything else. If ever there was a character destined to have fangs and a thirst for blood, it’s her. Basically. And I’m not going to argue with her. Role play sample as a vampire: Roshana loved being a vampire. It was almost as though she’d be born to become such a creature of the night. Other little girls played mummies and daddies with their friends and their dolls. She had spent her time eavesdropping in the lessons of her brother and the meetings of her father, her enquiring mind working out a myriad of ways to improve how everything was run, how things could be made better. She’d watched as the house guard discussed the best way to kill a man, watched and taken it all in eagerly. Inflicting pain was in her blood, her morals at killing other people nonexistent. She held an undeniable sway over people, could bend them to her will at the smallest crook of her finger. If ever there was a person destined to become a vampire, it was Roshana Trevalion.
For all she enjoyed her new found lifestyle, it had begun to become far too tedious. Get all dressed up, seduce a hapless – or not-so-hapless – mortal, drain them of their life blood. Repeat. Night in and night out. For months on end. She was a highly intelligent woman, she needed variation, needed a challenge. And so when the news that an old advisory of hers had been admitted to St. Mungo’s – the insanity ward no less – reached her ears, it was too interesting an opportunity to pass up. She could have her challenge, and silence once and for all someone that had been an irritation for years.
Her usual style of dressing had been forgone for the night. Evening gowns made from the finest fabrics in the richest of colours, a multitude of jewels decorating flawless skin were all well and good when out to catch the finest prey. They were not the sort of things that you needed to be wearing to visit someone in a hospital. And so she had settled for an elegantly cut pair of black jeans, stiletto heels adding to an already imposing height, a low cut top of the deepest crimson highlighting a figure most would die for. Even her hair had been left free from any sort of trappings, the raven curls hanging almost demurely down her back. Even dressed as she was heads turned as she walked through the semi deserted corridors to the ward holding her ‘friend’. Long red nails were clasped around the stalks of a dozen poppies, symbolic of eternal sleep. One should never visit the sick without a gift.
It was too late for visitors apparently. And she didn’t have an appointment. The ward she was headed far stricter on regulations than any other. But Roshana hadn’t got to where she was without some skill at deception – the waterworks turned on and soon she was let in through doors that sealed shut behind her. All it took was an imperceptible flick of her wand to ensure that no-one would be able to open it with just the password. And it was a well known fact that it couldn’t be blasted down – the actions of a previous dark lord had seen to that. And how she would thank him if she could.
The taking of the ‘little nuisance’s’ life had been all too easy. Until the nurse had rounded the corner to check everything was alright. Even with superhuman speed Roshana hadn’t been quick enough to stop the screams. Nursey lost her pretty little head for that stunt – hands wrenching it from her shoulders as soon as her blood had been taken. Blood lust was running high, bright eyes shining like rubies rather than the usual sapphire. Everyone was screaming now, people running here there and everywhere. All Roshana was aware of was their heartbeats, all frantic, as she bore down on them one by one. She wasn’t even interested in drinking their blood anymore, just silencing the infernal racket of the screams.
By the time lone footsteps could be heard on the corridor outside, there was only Roshana left ‘alive’ in the ward. The patients had been silenced easily in their beds, very little mess made. But the nurses – the nurses had asked for their brutal deaths – asked for heads to be severed and hearts to be removed, still beating. Never before had Ros even contemplated doing something so heinous, but now she had, she wanted more. She hadn’t fully understood Azrael’s trail of destruction upon his return – no though. Now she understood completely.
With the lights finally giving up the ghost, Roshana concealed herself behind one of the doors to the patients room. The newcomer would make a fantastic plaything – unaware of what had happened, trapped with no way out. With no way anyone could get in. The red haze had lifted, her mind cleared. Ros was going to be able to play the most fantastic game of cat and mouse, and how that made her smirk. It was only through biting upon her own tongue that she contained the laughter threatening to escape.
The blondes pleading with the door was beginning to get tiresome, the attempts of the second person irritating. It meant that whatever Roshana did to the blonde, she was going to have to deal with the repercussions of whatever he would do. Killing more people wasn’t a problem, but it could begin to get very messy indeed. And she had the feeling that Azrael wouldn’t be best pleased.
Better to get things started then.
The blonde had quietened down somewhat, her cries fading to silent tears, her words, inaudible to her would-be rescuer all too clear to Roshana as she stepped behind the witch, the darkness adding to the silence of her movements. “No, you shouldn’t….” Simple words whispered so close to her ear, the smirk widening as she heard her heart stop for the briefest of moments before resuming double time.
“Just when I’d run out of play things….”
How did you come to find BSE?: Connor told me I was an admin and there were gifts. An lo’…I'm here
Vampire Registration- Hexalia Young « Result #5 on Sept 17, 2008, 6:53am »
Name: Hexalia Caitlin Young Age of Vampire: 293 Age your character will look: 21 What made you decide to create a vampire character?: Hexalia is my most flawed character, and yet I never cease to play her- she has always been a Vampire, and I can’t imagine her being anything but. I don’t think she could adjust into any other creature, and several of her traits have grown far more dimensional due to her species. I’d love to bring her to Calla, into a darkness that she could only otherwise dream of. And of course I want to see how her persona shifts amongst the aweseomnosity that is ‘Beyond Shadows End’. Role play sample as a vampire: [One paragraph minimum.
Tilting her head of white-gold curls backwards, Hexalia shifted her gaze into the skies…this and dense. An abyss of darkness, without a glowing blade of hope to slice the brilliant shadowland of eternal night, stared down. Blindness, enveloping. No syrup sunrise or husky dusk to penetrate this triumphant will of nature…Calla, by some stained-glass will of its own, and poured away the light and allowed the creatures of blood and death to rise up, more alive than ever.
The children died, the babies writhed against the womb. A plague of judgement had ravaged and reaped the land of all its golden glory. Hex had never felt more empowered. To be or not to be?...past days she might have selected the latter and cast herself into the oblivion of philosophy that surrounded the cease of existence…but now, now with the darkness, the first had branded itself into her body and mind.
Filled with pure cruel mirth, the ivory face returned to a more natural frontward direction and cast her milked gaze upon the horizon…what could be seen of it. The rise of the Avalonian peaks bit into the skyline, and the Dark Lands below -that surrounded Hexalia at present- were scuttling with the mutations, the spin-off species. All of them. Racing their lives like ants beneath the ant-hill mountains behind.
Hmmm…it must be midday, the gaslamps were blazing out from Haven’s Cove. In that case Hexalia had dealings with a Tsingani to attend to: a man named Venovsk who was obsessed with his private hoard of radishes…obscure little man. Still, he was worth the time…if one got him drunk enough one could work him out of a couple for the selling on…not that radishes were the best of bargains, but when people were starving they went to extremes. Hexalia could sell them on for more, far more than Venovsk. She was a selfish being, was Hex, for she abused the systems and the darkness. With the right knowledge she could locate a famished family and convince them out of bigger things- like one of their children. And then she could sell the child on and so on, working her way up the scale until she got things she really cared about- alcohol (the better kind form the old days), cigarettes, tea. That sort of thing: the luxuries.
Drifting down from her watching place and into the central maze that was the Dark Lands, the Vampire watched auras and pulses passing her by. Everyone that walked by unscathed was another untaken possibility- missed chances to hush the cry of hunger- but appointments were appointments, and here ‘fashionably late’ meant no meeting at all. You turned up or they walked. Simple as.
The elegance to her stride shifted. Elegance, airs and graces did nothing for you in these places, and it was unnatural for her anyway- even when alive she had never strived for the good postures and dancing weaving of the nobles. She walked with a purpose, though the effects of her species still placed themselves within ever movement, clarifying it and yet blurring it at the same time- every action was definite but the ethereal contagious polish of the Vampires couldn’t help but pour its oil on the hinges.
The Crockerel sat ahead, a quaint joint for such an area of Calla despite its paranormal and fatal frequents. Of which, naturally, Hexalia was one. Some things never changed- she’d been a pub regular for the past two and a half centuries…though of course those had been the days of daylight, when she’d had to reside elsewhere until the dip of the sun allowed some darkness to settle in. Well daylight had been evicted, without warning, and the night was stealing in.
“All right, my darlin’?” came a kindly familiar female voice form behind the bar. Hex gave her a nod but let her gaze linger on every space at a time. And there was her fellow appointment arrival…lying out cold against the wood of a table, drunk or dead. Either way, it was his loss.
Hexalia stole over to him and rummaged his bag for something, anything. Her slender marble hands gripped against a tin of cigarettes, a bag of potatoes, and a book- an old one, of outdated horror tales.
“Beautiful.” Hexalia grinned to herself, stowing them into her own belongings and walking away from the inn, all the better for being saved a conversation about carrots.
How did you come to find BSE?: *prods la Kath* Twas she, one of the almighty admins, who brought me to Calla nyahah Word to verify you read the rules: - Admin Edit -
« Last Edit: Sept 17, 2008, 10:24am by Alexandra »
Stuck Between Two Worlds « Result #6 on Sept 16, 2008, 2:15pm »
Everything is About to Change...
The Past...
The Year is 1992, the Dark Lord has returned. In his younger teenage form. See Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley died that night in the Chamber of Secrets. They had failed to stop him and so had Albus Dumbledore. After succedding the battle the Dark Lord Returned.
The Present...
The Year is 1996, The Dark Lord has planted spies all over and they have been putting control curses over everyone. Including the Headmistress of Hogwarts, Jessica Nichols. The Mistress of Magic is also in control. But by the Deputy Minister, Alexander Rosier, an up and coming 24 year old with a lot to prove. The Order at the time is struggling, everyone is scared to join to face the Dark Lord and the Leader is having trouble getting around the many Spies and Death Eaters there are.
Hogwarts nor anyone else is safe. Heard of beatings and curses are showing up all around Hogwarts. The old Detentions have been brought back. And whats worse? Death Eaters are professors. There is a group of students gathering together in effort to rebel. But will they be able to get their act together in time? Or fall to the hands of the Death Eaters.
The Future....
The Year 1997, everything will be in the hands of the Dark Lord. The world is plunged into the dark ages. There is no future.
The Chilly wind blows off of the pier as the full moon shines in the night sky. The Beach cold beneath her feet. The light house, their haven miles away guided them here from their homes. The Deserted beach is were they should meet. “We don’t have long you know….” her voice spoke quietly, the voice that broke their silence. “ Baby, I know your leaving…And I may never be with you again. I could never change your parents mind about him or me, But I promise We’ll be together, some way some how…”his voice trailed off. In the sand the two laid, side by side, hand in hand praying they would stay there forever. He dug in this pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. “Promise me…you will never forget, everything, the night at the light house, the shore, me.” As he opened the box her eyes lit up upon the Ivory necklace. “Its not what…” “It‘s Perfect its…”she turned the necklace over and her she burst in to tears as she read the engraving. Annistasia Katrina Vonderwoon I promise you Forever we will be in Ivory Johnathan Clarance Raner. He Held her close.
Looking outside her window ,beyond the balcony and the blooming courtyard Laid the sea. The Moon Shone upon the sea so bright. To her the sea was a gem tonight, and her life. The Words repeated over and over again in her head. I Promise Forever we will be in Ivory.
IN The Small Sea Village of Heron Cove is where this tale begins. Kallie Annalyse Rivvern comes to her Aunt’s care the summer before sophomore year after a series of events with her family. She lands in the small town not knowing what will become of her next few years here. Upon her first few days there she meets Ashton Lewis Darreion one of the local notorious trouble makers and one of her fellow classmate Ivory Fall Academy. They Befriend each other and hit it off very well. While she gets a tour of the local area courtesy of Ashton they have a brief run in with Arribella Rena Vonderson and Summer Marie Harria the town two elite who shouldn‘t be messes with. Their in the elite group at Ivory Falls Academy that everyone either envy, loves, fears or wants to be in. Arribella and her Group wont let anything or anyone stop them from getting exactly what they want even if it means breaking a few rules, using on a few people or blackmailing. Arriabella Tells Kallie she should ditch Ashton if she knows what good for her and her reputation.
A Day Later Kallie hits up the beach and take a break from unpacking. Chase Carter Parker, his brother Greg Mark Parker and Damien Charles Fallon are there enjoying their summer break when Damion accidentally hit Kallie with a Frisbee. They Start talking she flirt a bit too. Little does she know Damion is Arribella’s boyfriend and Summer is their watching. Summer Tells Arribella about this and she promises to make Kallie’s Life a living hell.
Addison Harlow Wilson just got back in town, after spending her spring semester cleaning up her at after her partying drama that landed her a spot in rehab. She came back hoping Chase would welcome her back with open arms but she has found he left her in the dust for someone new. Heart broken she hopes her friends would welcome her back too. Yet again Arribella and Summer dumped her on to the side of the road and kicked her out of her coveted her spot in the clique. Summer has taken over her sport of being Arribella’s Second in command. Doomed to be an outsider Addison must make the choice be ready to get revenge or sink to the bottom for the high school food chain. Will she created a clique to over throw Arriebella? Will she use Greg to get back a Chase?
When school starts these teens will have to come together to work on a school project on the towns history and legends. They will uncover a mystery that has been in the making for over 100 years, a journal of secrets and who they truly are.
Joined: Sept 2008 Gender: Female Posts: 1 Location: Between shadow and fire Karma: 0
Charlotte Donnelly - Spellcaster Registration « Result #10 on Sept 13, 2008, 1:30pm »
Character Name: Charlotte Lénore Donnelly Character Age: 24 Affiliation: [Witch/wizard, druid, priest/priestess] Elemental witch Why do you want to be a Spellcaster?: Charlotte was designed as a woman who is very confident expect concerning her special abilities, and how to use them. Role Play Sample: [One paragraph minimum]
The Hall of Records at Calla University seem to stretch on forever. Rows upon rows of books, scrolls and manuscripts stacked on shelves so high one couldn't see the tops in the darkness. Though the entrance of the massive stone building boasted ornate windows, not even starlight illuminated the halls in the darkness.
An oil filled lamp threw a cold yellow light over the tottering piles of books and jumbled mess of manuscripts that covered one of the mahogony tables. Her shoes forgotten on the floor, Charlotte Donnelly turned her eyes toward the ceiling that always reminded her more of the sky than the inside of any building. One of the ancient clocks clanged the out-of-tune time. 3 a.m. She'd been hidden away here for more than eight hours now. A few more hours and the generators would kick on the street lamps and she could walk the few blocks to her dreary building in dim dirty light. Looking around at the piles of witches records going back all the way to the times of the sun, she turned her eyes on the dark windows. "It's only a few blocks," she muttered to herself. The likely hood of her running into anything dangerous or even anyone to enforce the curfew was slim, and he books would still be here when she got back.
Pulling on her shoes and heavy black coat, she tenativly pulled the glass cover off the lamp and held her hand over the open flame, feeling it leap as she closed her fist around it. Flames licked her skin for less than an any measurable moment before being extinguished, throwing the hall into true darkness.
Starlight provided just enough illumination to see the edges of the cobble stone streets. She walked on the cracked cobblestone sidewalks, though there wasn't really any need to. Most walked everywhere now and the streets were just another causeway. Rounding the corner away from campus she could see her building door down the way as a voice broke the fragile darkness.
"Now what have I told you about wandering about in the wee hours of the morning?"
She snapped her head around to face the shadows, a high wind picking up in her wake, playing with her hair, and sending tempests of dirt, paper and other rubble spiraling down the street.
She'd know his voice anywhere, as windblown curls settled back on her shoulders.
"And what have I told you about following me?" Annoyance hid the affection in her voice.
How did you come to find BSE?: *edited* Word to verify that you read the rules?: *edited*
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