Post by ..::The Bard::.. on Sept 18, 2006 21:19:56 GMT -5
((READ THIS FIRST!!!!!! In order to be in this rp, you must have either a vampire or a Werewolf char, or perhaps a human. Humans have no powers what so ever. No magic enhancing abilities for humans, no demons, no nada. Werewolves of course have strength and transformation, while Vampires have speed and agility. Kris is the only Super vampire, which he obtained in the profile when he killed Lord Dracula. No halfbreeds. And none of the loner oh I can just kick everyone's ass crap. Even the NPCs are extremely strong. This is realistic (in a sense) so there wont be wiping through NPCs, atleast not most of the time. If you want to join just pm me and I'll look over your profile. Also not that Kris is one of the oldest Vampire's left alive and that there is a war waging between the vampires and the Lycans. You can play as a soldier, some of whom are pretty kick ass, but nothing to serious. Also note that every race has regeneration, but when wounded by something that you know is lethal to your race, it takes a very long time to regen, and sometimes you can't regen at all. If you need more information, PM me.))
"f**k! f**k! f**k! Hurry up, Dorian! He's right on our ass!" Gerald shouted ahead of him as the two men ran in fear toward's the castle gates.
The moon was full tonight. Clear sky left plenty of light for vision. The wind was calm, every now then a breeze on this summer night. Shadows danced around the two young men as they fled, bloody daggers in hand. As the boys would pass, by, the dancing would stop, the shadow's head's turning, following the two, studying the two.
"Jesus Christ, Dorian. I can f**king hear him behind us! Go faster!" Gerald shouted.
"Oh my god, Oh my god, we're gonna die. We are so dead! I don't want to die." Was the only thing Dorian could say in return, beginning to break down as the fear dug it.
The two boys ducked into a nearby alley, waiting quietly until a group of guards ran past in a sprint. "Get the traitors!" One of the officers shouted.
When the coast was clear, the two left the alley, now beginning to calm down, heading in the opposite way of the guards.
"I-I think we might be alright! M-Maybe you can get us out of this, Gerald." Said Dorian, walking quietly behind his friend.
"Maybe..." Gerald murmured.
"When we get back, do you think we can stop by my mo-Ugh!" A groan of pain was heard behind Gerald. He span around, blade at the ready for what ever it was.
When he saw what stood behind him, his eyes widened in fear, the dagger falling from his hand as he slowly began to move back, his eyes unable to leave the horrifying image.
In front of him now, was Dorian, blood pouring from his mouth. He hovered 3 feet of the ground, a blade shoved through his stomach, which he worked, panicing, to remove, though in vain. Behind Dorian stood the king of vampire's himself. Kristopher Shoma. In his left hand was a sword, his right clutching a wound right under his heart. A stab wound from a dagger. Below it were two more stabs.
Gerald tried to yell, but when he opened is mouth, nothing came out. He watched in horror as Dorian continued his aimless panic before finally slowing his movements and dieing.
Kris lowered Dorian to his feet before giving the now corpse a strong kick in the back, a crack heard as the spine snapped and the body flew off of the sword, landing right at Gerald's feet.
"O-Oh m-m-my g-god! Oh sh-sh**. Oh f**k I'm about to die." Gerald stuttered out before turning and bolting off as fast as he could.
A sharp pain was felt in Gerald's stomach, and at the same time came a strong shove, strong enough to send him flying straight into the wall infront. He never would have realized he was dead, the blow from his face hitting the brick wall knocked him out cold. About as painless as it gets for people who try to kill thier king.
Kris removed his sword from the body, sighing as he sheathed it and removing his hand from a still bleeding wound.
"Silver...d**n...that's gonna take a while to heal." He murmered, replacing his hand and preasure on the wound before heading back to the castle.
This was the third attempt to assassinate him in the past two weeks. What the hell was going on? Here he is trying to end the war with the Lycans, and now his own people are trying to kill him? This was beginning to look very strange. Perhaps the enemy had hired them? But why would vampires help Wolves? Bah...too many questions, not enough answers.
Opening the doors to the castle, he was greated by a slap across the face. It was Annabelle, the maid. She was young, atleast for a vampire. 65 with the body of a 17 very athletic 17 year old girl. There was no point in getting mad at her and argueing about why she struck him. He would lose...he always did when it came to women for some reason.
"You killed them, didn't you!" She shouted, ready to slap him again.
"Well they tried to kill me...what was I supposed to do? Let em get away with it and attempt to stab me again later on?" He answered, sarcastically.
"You could have locked them up, Kris!" She exclaimed.
"Why is it that no one cares to put in the king part, or the your highness thing. It's always been, 'Oh hey, Kris.' Not even just plain king." He sighed, but was soon brought back to Annabelle's arguement with yet another slap, now a large, red hand print on his left cheek. "Ow, what?"
"Look what your doing to my clean floors!" She pointed to his wound, which was dripping from his now blood covered hand to the floor.
Kris mearly rolled his eyes, telling her to send Mitchel up to him when she was done cleaning. He entered his room, a beautifully crafted bedroom that was actually as big as some houses, a large double king sized bed in the back, surrounded by books. His room was a cross between three things. A labratory, A library, and finally a bedroom. In the corner, on a large desk sat vails filled with different colored liquids in each one. He hung his jacket up at the door before heading to the bathroom, which was on the east side of the room. (Bedroom is on the north side of the castle, just above the throne room.)
Once in the bathroom, he stripped his clothes and jumped in the shower. A moment passed without any water turning on, and the door to the shower, reopened, Kris walking out with yet another red hand print on his face.
"When the hell did servants start using MY shower?!" He asked, yelling over the sound of running water.
"Since your shower is the only one getting warm water tonight! Now wait your d**n turn!" Came the voice of a young woman.
Her name was Elizabeth, she was his assistant when it came to the lab duties. She was around 273 in vampire years, though stuck in the body of a very beautiful 26 year old red headed woman, one that often times wore glasses.
Now with two hand prints on his face, Kris walked over to the cabnet, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist, waiting for Liz to get out. A little time went by and soon it was his turn for a shower. He took his time, making extra sure to wash his new wound, one that he knew would simply disappear from his body like all the others. After his shower and after Mitchel had bandaged him up and yelled at him for not being more careful, Kris was in bed, a tight wrapping around his chest and diagnolly across his right shoulder. As he lay there, recovering, he would read. Something he often did when he was wounded. And by god he had read every book in his entire library atleast 10 times. He would sit there, in the privacy of his room, lost in one of his many favorite books.
"f**k! f**k! f**k! Hurry up, Dorian! He's right on our ass!" Gerald shouted ahead of him as the two men ran in fear toward's the castle gates.
The moon was full tonight. Clear sky left plenty of light for vision. The wind was calm, every now then a breeze on this summer night. Shadows danced around the two young men as they fled, bloody daggers in hand. As the boys would pass, by, the dancing would stop, the shadow's head's turning, following the two, studying the two.
"Jesus Christ, Dorian. I can f**king hear him behind us! Go faster!" Gerald shouted.
"Oh my god, Oh my god, we're gonna die. We are so dead! I don't want to die." Was the only thing Dorian could say in return, beginning to break down as the fear dug it.
The two boys ducked into a nearby alley, waiting quietly until a group of guards ran past in a sprint. "Get the traitors!" One of the officers shouted.
When the coast was clear, the two left the alley, now beginning to calm down, heading in the opposite way of the guards.
"I-I think we might be alright! M-Maybe you can get us out of this, Gerald." Said Dorian, walking quietly behind his friend.
"Maybe..." Gerald murmured.
"When we get back, do you think we can stop by my mo-Ugh!" A groan of pain was heard behind Gerald. He span around, blade at the ready for what ever it was.
When he saw what stood behind him, his eyes widened in fear, the dagger falling from his hand as he slowly began to move back, his eyes unable to leave the horrifying image.
In front of him now, was Dorian, blood pouring from his mouth. He hovered 3 feet of the ground, a blade shoved through his stomach, which he worked, panicing, to remove, though in vain. Behind Dorian stood the king of vampire's himself. Kristopher Shoma. In his left hand was a sword, his right clutching a wound right under his heart. A stab wound from a dagger. Below it were two more stabs.
Gerald tried to yell, but when he opened is mouth, nothing came out. He watched in horror as Dorian continued his aimless panic before finally slowing his movements and dieing.
Kris lowered Dorian to his feet before giving the now corpse a strong kick in the back, a crack heard as the spine snapped and the body flew off of the sword, landing right at Gerald's feet.
"O-Oh m-m-my g-god! Oh sh-sh**. Oh f**k I'm about to die." Gerald stuttered out before turning and bolting off as fast as he could.
A sharp pain was felt in Gerald's stomach, and at the same time came a strong shove, strong enough to send him flying straight into the wall infront. He never would have realized he was dead, the blow from his face hitting the brick wall knocked him out cold. About as painless as it gets for people who try to kill thier king.
Kris removed his sword from the body, sighing as he sheathed it and removing his hand from a still bleeding wound.
"Silver...d**n...that's gonna take a while to heal." He murmered, replacing his hand and preasure on the wound before heading back to the castle.
This was the third attempt to assassinate him in the past two weeks. What the hell was going on? Here he is trying to end the war with the Lycans, and now his own people are trying to kill him? This was beginning to look very strange. Perhaps the enemy had hired them? But why would vampires help Wolves? Bah...too many questions, not enough answers.
Opening the doors to the castle, he was greated by a slap across the face. It was Annabelle, the maid. She was young, atleast for a vampire. 65 with the body of a 17 very athletic 17 year old girl. There was no point in getting mad at her and argueing about why she struck him. He would lose...he always did when it came to women for some reason.
"You killed them, didn't you!" She shouted, ready to slap him again.
"Well they tried to kill me...what was I supposed to do? Let em get away with it and attempt to stab me again later on?" He answered, sarcastically.
"You could have locked them up, Kris!" She exclaimed.
"Why is it that no one cares to put in the king part, or the your highness thing. It's always been, 'Oh hey, Kris.' Not even just plain king." He sighed, but was soon brought back to Annabelle's arguement with yet another slap, now a large, red hand print on his left cheek. "Ow, what?"
"Look what your doing to my clean floors!" She pointed to his wound, which was dripping from his now blood covered hand to the floor.
Kris mearly rolled his eyes, telling her to send Mitchel up to him when she was done cleaning. He entered his room, a beautifully crafted bedroom that was actually as big as some houses, a large double king sized bed in the back, surrounded by books. His room was a cross between three things. A labratory, A library, and finally a bedroom. In the corner, on a large desk sat vails filled with different colored liquids in each one. He hung his jacket up at the door before heading to the bathroom, which was on the east side of the room. (Bedroom is on the north side of the castle, just above the throne room.)
Once in the bathroom, he stripped his clothes and jumped in the shower. A moment passed without any water turning on, and the door to the shower, reopened, Kris walking out with yet another red hand print on his face.
"When the hell did servants start using MY shower?!" He asked, yelling over the sound of running water.
"Since your shower is the only one getting warm water tonight! Now wait your d**n turn!" Came the voice of a young woman.
Her name was Elizabeth, she was his assistant when it came to the lab duties. She was around 273 in vampire years, though stuck in the body of a very beautiful 26 year old red headed woman, one that often times wore glasses.
Now with two hand prints on his face, Kris walked over to the cabnet, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist, waiting for Liz to get out. A little time went by and soon it was his turn for a shower. He took his time, making extra sure to wash his new wound, one that he knew would simply disappear from his body like all the others. After his shower and after Mitchel had bandaged him up and yelled at him for not being more careful, Kris was in bed, a tight wrapping around his chest and diagnolly across his right shoulder. As he lay there, recovering, he would read. Something he often did when he was wounded. And by god he had read every book in his entire library atleast 10 times. He would sit there, in the privacy of his room, lost in one of his many favorite books.