RolePlayer.me

msn: [email protected] IM: Yahoo! Messenger: splatter_phoenix

The rules and information below is being presented so that those of you who have known me for only a short period of time have a better understanding of me. As for those of you who have known me for a long period of time, it is likely that none of this is new information.1. Rp Style- I am very easy to work with, and want the person I am rping with to feel comfortable. Therefore, I tend to use the style that they are using.2. Types of people I rp with- One look at my Top list will show you that I rp with a variety of types. I am not biased towards or against characters from any specfic shows, movies, books, etc.3. Relationships- I don't cheat, and I am strongly against the practice of someone doing it. I have matched people up in the past, but I will not do it for someone who has one character that is "single and looking", while they have another character that is in a relationship. If you are in a relationship with two different people as two different characters, you are cheating, as far as I'm concerned. I understand that many disagree, and I do see where you are coming from. However, it is my personal opinion.4. Cooperation- Whether you are rping with a friend or an "enemy", rping is like a dance. Everyone involved needs to be on the same page regarding what direction the rp is going in. If I leave you a Comment and you don't understand what I mean or can't decide how to respond, tell me, and I will help you. 5. Death- I personally am not a big fan of it. If I am fighting you, I will always give you the opportunity to avoid death. At the same time though, I rp with some people who encourage me to attempt to kill them. To those of you who do that, I most likely will not let you down, lol.6. Hours- I understand that it can be difficult at times to figure out when I will be here. Generally, I am here daily, from about 9:45am-12:30pm Eastern time Sundays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays; and 9:45am-11:30am Eastern time Mondays, Fridays, and Saturdays. When I am here at other times, it is usually to only read messages or update my profile.7. Age- I am an adult, both OOC and IC. I think everyone who knows me is already aware of that though.

The only rules that really matter are these: what a man can do and what a man can't do. For instance, you can accept that your father was a pirate and a good man or you can't. But pirate is in your blood, boy, so you'll have to square with that some day. And me, for example, I can let you drown, but I can't bring this ship into Tortuga all by me onesies, savvy? So, can you sail under the command of a pirate, or can you not? I think we've all arrived at a very special place. Spiritually, ecumenically, grammatically. Well Mr. Turner, I've changed me mind. If you spring me from this cell, I swear on pain of death, I shall take you to the Black Pearl and your bonnie lass. Do we have an accord? "The Immortal Captain Jack Sparrow." It has such a lovely ring to it... A wedding? I love weddings. Drinks all around! Worry about your own fortunes gentlemen. The deepest circle of hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers. When you marooned me on that god forsaken spit of land, you forgot one very important thing, mate: I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. You need to find yourself a girl mate. Or perhaps the reason you practice three hours a day is that you already found one, and are otherwise incapable of wooing said strumpet. You're not a eunuch are you? Fortunately, I know how to counter it; the man who did the waking buys the man who was sleeping a drink; the man who was sleeping drinks it while listening to a proposition from the man who did the waking. Of the two of us I am the only one who hasn't committed mutiny, therefore my word is the one we'll be trusting. Although, I suppose I should be thanking you because in fact, if you hadn't betrayed me and left me to die, I would have an equal share in that curse same as you. Me? I'm dishonest, and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly. It's the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly... stupid. Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate. Well, yes mate. See, I'm dishonest. And a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly. It's the honest ones you need to watch out for, because you never know when they're going to do something incredibly... stupid. You can keep doing that forever, the dog is NEVER going to move. The last time you left me a pistol with one shot. Seeing as there's two of us, a gentleman would give us a pair of pistols. The only rules that really matter are these: what a man can do and what a man can't do. For instance, you can accept that your father was a pirate and a good man or you can't. But pirate is in your blood, boy, so you'll have to square with that some day. And me, for example, I can let you drown, but I can't bring this ship into Tortuga all by me onesies, savvy? So, can you sail under the command of a pirate, or can you not? I think we've all arrived at a very special place. Spiritually, ecumenically, grammatically. I want you to know that I was rooting for you. Know that. Elizabeth... it would never have worked between us darling. I'm sorry... Will... nice hat. Friends... This is the day that you will ALWAYS remember as the day that you... Well Mr. Turner, I've changed me mind. If you spring me from this cell, I swear on pain of death, I shall take you to the Black Pearl and your bonnie lass. Do we have an accord? Not if you're the one doing the ambushing. I go in and convince Barbossa to send his men out with their little boats. You and your mates return to the Dauntless and blast the bejesus out of them with your little cannons, eh? What do you have to lose? She's safe, just like I promised. She's all set to marry Norrington, just like she promised. And you get to die for her, just like you promised. So we're all men of our word really... except for, of course, Elizabeth, who is in fact, a woman. Worry about your own fortunes gentlemen. The deepest circle of hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers. When you marooned me on that god forsaken spit of land, you forgot one very important thing, mate: I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. You need to find yourself a girl mate. Or perhaps the reason you practice three hours a day is that you already found one, and are otherwise incapable of wooing said strumpet. You're not a eunuch are you? Fortunately, I know how to counter it; the man who did the waking buys the man who was sleeping a drink; the man who was sleeping drinks it while listening to a proposition from the man who did the waking. No. I expect to leave you standing on some beach with absolutely no name at all, watching me sail away on my ship and then I'll shout the name back to you. Savvy? Of the two of us I am the only one who hasn't committed mutiny, therefore my word is the one we'll be trusting. Although, I suppose I should be thanking you because in fact, if you hadn't betrayed me and left me to die, I would have an equal share in that curse same as you. No. *You* want you to find this. Because the finding of this finds you incapacitorially finding and/or locating in your discovering the detecting of a way to save your bonny lass, ol' what's-er-face. Dirt. This is a jar of dirt. Where is it? Where is the thump-thump? I have every faith in your reconciliatory navigational skills, Master Gibbs. Now where is that monkey? I want to shoot something! Got it! Come to negotiate, eh? Have you, you slimy git? Look what I got I got a jar of dirt, I got a jar of dirt, and guess what's inside it! Can't let you do that, William. 'Cause if Jones is dead, who's to call his terrible beastie off the hunt, eh? Now, if you please. The key. Ah-ha! So, we've established my proposal as sound in principle. Now, we're just haggling over price. You mistrust me? Listen, you can mistrust him, trust me. Let us examine that claim for a moment, former Commodore, shall we? Who was it that, at the very moment you had a notorious pirate safely behind bars, saw fit to free said pirate and take your dearly beloved all to hisself, eh? So whose fault is it *really* that you've ended up a rum-pot deckhand what takes orders from pirates? Have you not met Will Turner? He's noble, heroic - terrific soprano. Worth at least four... maybe three and a half. And did I happen to mention... he's in love? With a girl. Due to be married. Betrothed. Dividing him from her and her from him would only be half as cruel as actually allowing them to be joined in holy matrimony, eh? No. If we don't have the key, we can't open whatever we dont' have that it unlocks. So what purpose would be served in finding whatever need be unlocked, which we don't have, without first having found the key what unlocks it?Yep! I'm good wiv it. Shall we seal it in blood... I mean... ink? Technically, I was only captain for two years, then I was viciously mutinied upon. I love those moments. I like to wave at them as they pass by. Lum se se, eunich-y. Snip snip. Cuttlefish... eh... let us not, dear friends, forget our dear friends the cuttlefish... bind them up together and they'll devour themselves without a single thought... Human nature, in'it? Ooor... rather fish nature... So yes... we could hold up here well-provisioned and well-armed... and half of us would be dead within the month! Which seems grim to me no matter how you slice it! Or as my colleague so naively suggested, we can release Calypso, and God-willing, she will show us mercy... I rather doubt it. Can we just ignore that she is a woman scorned, the fury the likes of which Hell hath no? We cannot. And so, we are left with but one option. I agree with, and I cannot believe the words that are coming out of me mouth... Captain Swann. Now, Will, you tell me somethin'. Have you come because you need my help to save a certain distressin' damsel? Or... A damsel in distress? Or... whatever... Send this pestilent, traitorous, cow-hearted, yeasty codpiece to the brig. This is not my vessel. My vessel is magnificent, and fierce and huge-ish and gone. Why is it gone? Why would he do that? Because he's a lummox, isn't he? Well we shall have a magnificent garden party and not invite him! And all of this pales to utter insignificance in light of the fact that my ship is once again gone. Savvy? Why should I side with any of you? Four of you have tried to kill me in the past... one of you succeeded. I leave you people alone for just a minute and look what happens. Everything's gone to pot!

Today I'm going to start doing a sort of multi-character RP. Although my profile pic right now is Samus, I have decided that I will also play Nightmare Moon or Princess Luna, if anybody wants. Yes I know my profile  bio is about Samus but I think we can ignore that for now. Although this is just a test to see if I should just make another account for Nightmare Moon.

------------------------------------------------------------------- Navigation; -------------------------------------------------------------------o1. The Code............................................o2. Disclaimer & Copyright.......................o3. Hours of Operation..............................o4. My Other Profiles.............................o5. Louis Rincewood, in depth..................o6. Naughty Bits & Relationshits .............o7. Roles that need Filling.........................o8. Fairy Tales, Stories & Poems..............o9. Favourite Comments Blog..................

Coming Soon.

Authors Note: I am a very laid back, nice, and very caring person once I get to know you. But, here are my guidelines that I hope you will follow or I will not hesitate to block your ass.1) First and foremost; There's a thing called spell check. Use it. I've been roleplaying for nearly ten years now. OBEY this rule. I don't want my I.Q. to suffer from the idiocracy by ones lack of education. In other words, LITERACY is a MUST!2) [Ladies only! If you're a guy skip this rule!] Don't add me then message me you're a slut. I already got a hoe and I don't need anymore for my gardening purposes. Its sitting in the shed.3) You add, you send the greeting and the starter. If I added you, I will send the greeting and the starter.4) No stealing my pics! I'll castrate you and shove it down your throat. For those of you with Vaginas... I'll get some of my friends to do worse things to you. Like shove a curling iron where the sun don't shine or something along those lines. Be warned.5) Leave the drama and the bullshit at the front door. Thank you.6) Discuss a storyline with me before you send a starter.7) I do NOT accept pre-made starters.8) If we get in a disagreement, be civilized about it.9) Fuck with my friends, you fuck with me. And trust me... You will not like it when I'm angry.10) ooc is for comments unless you wish to keep it between you and I. Please send starters to my inbox. Allows me to keep things organized and not get lost in the sea of ooc randomness in my comments.11) I hate Multi-Char accounts. Won't accept them.12) All starters must be at least three paragraphs. Refer to rule six which also mentions my guidelines for starters. If the paragraphs fluctuate after the initial starter that is perfectly fine. But please try to put some effort into the roleplay, and give me detail so I have something to go on.13) If you wish to fight me please know the basic rules of combat within RP. I will not state them as I EXPECT you to already know these things when fighting a roleplayer of my caliber. If you don't know anything about fighting don't bother to even challenge me to a fight. Save me the trouble by deleting me now. 14) I expect at least two to three paragraph replies or starters. I can deal with with one, just expect the same effort from me that you put forward. Why should I go out of my way to attempt to type more when you make no attempt to? And at least give me some dialogue to respond to or some sort of reaction to my character when he is in the general vicinity. Gives me something to go on at least. And here is something for you to chew on. If you roleplay with me I tend to make my paragraphs fat. The definition of a paragraph is 3-5 sentences minimum. Correct? Well I tend to make my paragraphs at least 9-10 lines, which is usually 9-10 sentences, before I start a new paragraph. So my one paragraph can be counted as three paragraphs if I were to split them that small. But I feel a thicker paragraph looks better for the read. Hope I didn't just mind-fuck your brain. Common sense people. Thank you for reading this. Now lets get to Roleplaying.P.S. Skype: Ask for it.Aim: Ask for it.

1st basic rp starter between river and the drRiver song sat curled up apon the bed her blue tardis shaped diary in one hand and her pen in the other. Confined once more within the storm cage of her prison. Her diary was like the tardis bigger on the inside so that it never run out  or needed replacing. Stopping for an instant she looked around her prisoncell a small smile playing apon her lips at how the room only held the bare essentials.*soon, once more to be free just when the doctor needs me most*She thought to herself as she lay back and got comfortable, the guard roaming back and forth along the empty corridors a telephone hanging nearby on the wall just outside the cell bars. As she waited for the time to come when she was once more free River Song read through slowly the pages of her diary and the times she spent with the doctor starting from the time when they first met at the library. It started when he took her to see the singing towers of Derillium. to him it would be their last night together the time she was to leave and would come to die at the library  in place of him during their fight with the vashta narada, and yet it would be the very first time they would come to meet. River thought how confusing things were when you were a time traveller. but before her train of thought could go any further the peal of that phone rang out.instantly she slammed shut the diary put it away and got ready. The time had come, the time to run, to travel to search for the doctor no matter how long it took. seconds later River's stormcage prison cell was empty and she was on the move. Two words she sent to the doctor's psychic paper followed by time, date & location."Hello Sweetie"2nd basic rp starter(one week previously.*)river sat silently and ever watchful as the long day withing her storm cage prision cell turned into the darkness of the evening. Her things were packed and she was now ready to escape her cell once more. river smiled as the guard stopped just out of reach of her cell and noted that she was still there, but as soon as he was out of sight and the guards were taking the last few minutes to change river vanished from her cell and the alarm sounded soon after her disappearence.(present time)for a week now river had been on and unknown alien world and the start of the second week was just begining and though she had tried in vien to find out what was happening river was having trouble. she knew this world was in trouble from someone or something unknown but she didn't know what so she thought it was time to bring in the big guns.with a smile on her lips river sent the doctor a psychic message with the date, time, and the co ordinates that eh would need and the words *hello sweetie* and promptly sat back and waited for him to arrive.3.. written with jack harkness in mindHow long it had been since river had lost her parents in new york manhattan she didn't really care she'd been through it all before though this had been the first time for the doctor who hadn't taken their loss well at all. After river had left him she had gone home now that she was no longer in the stormcage facility for killing a man that didn't exsist and set about writing the Melody Malone novel that she was supposed to write and then take it back to 1938 to her mother to get it published. With things still fresh in her mind she set about writing things down in great detail not sparing anything and writing chapter titles that would give her sweetie the answers he sought without there being any spoiler references before she would use her vortex manipulator to head straight for 1938. After the book was given to her mother to get published with an after word written  with sweetie in mind Sr River Song made sure that it would be inside his jacket pocket for when the appropriate time came. With everything set River used her manipulator to arrive in the city of Cardiff to await the time of the angels and decided to spend time in this fair city that the Doctor often landed the tardis at because of his oldest friend Captain Jack Harkness. River had heard sweetie mention this man on more than one occasion but had never been introduced to him which River found annoying so she decided to do what the Doctor wouldn't and meet the man in question herself. Now all she had to do was find the man.

Standard Croc stuff!Croc is known for durability and a healing factor given his reptilian features. He can regenerate lost limbs. This is limited to decapitation. He can't grow his head back. Also, he ages very slowly. Although he looks to be in his early 30s and fights in such a way, he is actually in his late 50s. You didn't hear that one from me though. Finally, he can and often does fight through injuries. In Arkham Asylum *The comic, not the game*, he continued to fight after being impaled through the chest by an iron bar.It's very hard to cut Croc's skin as it is thicker than average human skin. Yeah, even Pretty Boy Croc has this too. It can bounce bullets and sh*t.Strength: Croc is known for his peak physical fitness. In addition to his strength, stamina, endurance, surprising amount of speed, and his ability to dive half a mile and hold his breath for 3 hours, he has a very slow heart rate and a very powerful heart that can function in such a manner at 50 beats per  minute. He's also a very good Greco Roman wrestler guy. He has been known to suplex a city bus and then eat everything inside.Speaking of eating, Croc actually has a very fast metabolism despite his size. He is known for his ability to digest pretty much anything. This also helps his immune system. His jaws are as strong as those of an average Crocodilian with the exception of the weakened mouth opening. In addition, he is immune to most poisons. By most, he is very succeptible to drunkenness and intoxication, which leaves him in a permanent stupor as he uses frequently.Senses: Croc is known for very strong vision, hearing, and his sense of smell. He never forgets an individual scent... Unless he's drugged. Which was of course most of the time.NOt Standard Croc stuff!However, now he's sober. And it has been proven in the comics that despite his apparent lack of common sense, Croc had a photographic memory and is actually surprisingly intelligent with an IQ of 165. This RP capitalizes on that and uses his intellect. Yeah, I blame his past stupidity on drugs. Now he takes none except for the hormones used to keep his reptilian features in check.His teeth have been fixed due to modern dentistry. He now looks passable as a human. However, when he steps on the scale, all humanity goes out the door: He is still over 500 pounds!His martial arts skills have improved. He studied Brazilian Jiu Jitsu with the infamous Nogueira brothers, pet a school bus with Big Nog *See also Chael Sonnen*, and Muay Thai with Victor Sagat. Finally, he has even learned the art of stealth and various forms of armed combat with Lady Blue. His keen senses allows him to notice confontational acts. Even so, he will take his bumps (UNLIKE MOST OF YOU A**HOLES! TAKE YOUR BUMPS AND SELL LIKE A MAN! We want Tommy Dreamers, not John Cenas)His clear vision makes him an accurate shot. However, he saves his rounds, as he always preferred to use his hands.

    Kicking the kick stand to the motorcycle, stiles leaned to the side as he brought his leg over and stood up straight. Looking forward at the ever tall pine needle trees, Stiles sighed as he reached back and grabbed his satchel bag and held on to it."Here we go..." He gulped knowing what he is getting himself into. Making his way forward into the dark forest, the sounds of the birds slowly fade away in the distance while the sound of the howling cool wind sweeps by  making Stiles hair stand up on the back of his neck.  Ready to run like a bat of hell or probably get the shit scared out of him, he reached into his brown satchel and placed two cylinder tubes in his dark denim Levi jeans and pressed on. Sighing just a bit Stiles hope he did not have to get physical tonight, all he wanted to do was just patrol abit and head back home and enjoy his king size bed.      Coming to a halt in the middle of the woods, Stiles looked around as this seemed like a good open spot. Putting his bag onto the ground, he flip the satchel flap open and let his fingers dig into his bag searching for his cell phone. Moving the first aid kit around with the flash bang grenades and the taser gun, his heart beat was slowly starting to pick up. Trying to keep himself calm and focused on what he was suppose to do, he found the gloves that Allison father, Chris Argent gave to him for hand to hand combat.  Whistling to himself to drawn out the silent atmosphere, he heard a howling in the distance. Grabbing the combat knife and putting it in the slit of the black steel tip boots. He sat on the rock and gazed at the moon. Seeing as it was almost a full moon, it was nearly suicidal to be out at night.     Knowing what Stiles knows, that werewolf's, Kanima, probably even vampires and other supernatural creatures exist. All they are doing is probably waiting for their time to be known or just keeping out of sight not wanting anyone to know of their existence. Thinking deep about it he was wondering about vampires but yet what about big foot and Neisse even the abominable snowman. While pondering these thoughts , a snap of a branch went off, bringing him back to reality he rose looking at the gloves, bringing his  hands together, he held them with such tightness not wanting to show any fear. Stiles turned around and began to scan the scenery checking what has caused the snap of the wooden dead branch. Seeing that nothing was there, Stiles starred right down the middle, focusing on an a certain object that lingered there. It all came down to the hunter and the hunte  "hello...." He called out  wanting to get a response but  nothing. "Well that was a waste of time." He sighed and reached down into his bag , then it happen a low rumbling growl  was heard. Picking up his back quickly he got put it around his arm. Then a snap of another tree branch was heard, "Shit" he said to himself, there to his side he caught the red crimson eyes that lit up as a female figure appeared."A girl?" he tilted his head as he thought it would have been a guy. Due to seeing Derek Hale with his sapphire blue eyes before he became Alpha, then once getting rid of Peter , Stiles saw Derek eyes change from blue to Red only in his wolf form or going into it. Seeing the feminine approach Stiles slowly "A chew toy." She smirked exposing her sharp canines. Eying the girl from head to toe, Stiles bit his lip as she was appealing to him, her skin  was a  fair tan , Her breast size looked that of a C cup and that navel  that had piercing on it, had a little paw prints on  it going down. Stiles blinked again as he was caught off guard by her beauty , seeing those smooth slender legs with a thick thighs she defiantly filled out her Daisy Dukes she had on.  Shaking his head, Stiles had to focus on this , knowing that any moment it will get heated and throw some punches he was just going to bolt out of there.  "Let him be, he is our message to the others that there is a new pack in town." Another person emerged from the wooded forest but this time on the right. Seeing a tall muscular male with piercing sky blue eyes,  jet black wavy hair. Stiles thought this guy was Ken that boyish figure that Barbie  loves so much long lost brother. Making his way up to the female he pulled her by her shoulder and looked at Stiles. Tilting his head to the side he smirked abit as slowly that devious sly grin came out."But I think we can have some fun with him, you know rough him up and by the way don't scratch him, he is not worth us tormenting his puny mind... or is it?" Stiles put his hands up and shook  his head "Ah come on, no we don't need none of that I am sure you all can go scratch one another. I am just here minding my own business. " Stiles took a step back, knowing that there has to be more in a pack then just two people. "So where is everyone else if you do not mind me saying, I know a pack consist of four or more, unless you like your things small." He looked at the girl and smirked as his furry eyebrows pointed at the male. Hearing a growl he snarled at Stiles for that crude remark about his endowment. Bringing his hand up he shook his finger side to side. "You must be that stupid if you think you will get out here alive. And if you must know the rest of the pack are settling down in your town. Waiting on my mark to ether start painting the town red or just cause some few accidents here and there, you know car brakes are cut loose, mysterious animal attack on the rise. "     Stiles eyes widen due to the fact they can strike any moment they want. It was already gonna be too later if he was to text Scott, or Derek. Not knowing what to do he had to warn the others  on what was gonna go down. He did not know when and where but its best to have their guard up and try to prevent innocent people from getting hurt.  Stiles suspected if they were gonna hit where it hurts they would have to go after friends and family even love ones.  Seeing Stiles getting worked up the alpha male grin and whispered into the girl ear as she smirked and walked off, once entering the wooded forest she ran."Wait." Stiles called out but it was no use she was gone. Now it was the Alpha male and Stiles alone. Placing his back on the floor slowly he made his way up to the Alpha male. "Look just don't hurt anyone okay, I am sure we can figure something out." The Alpha nodded his head as he quickly brought his hand up slapping stiles back to the tree and made his way over to the fallen Stiles."Sure, we can but doesn't mean I can beat the shit out of you."         Feeling the air knocked out of him, Stiles looked up and gasp for air. Staggering a bit he stumbled back and a loud thud was made due to the contact with the tree trunk was heard. Seeing the male coming for him was like he was the final survivor in a horror movie. It's the final scene where the hero must come face to face with the killer and take him down in the final show down. Looking down at the gloves hoping that electric charges do work, he pushed the button on the side of the gloves. Hearing the charge at a high pitch slowly the hairs on Stiles arms began to rise giving him the okay to use the gloves. Pushing off the Tree , he made his way over to the Alpha, knowing he could fly across the area in one fit. Stiles had to make sure to dodge the  alpha deadly blows and get some few punches in with those high voltage gloves.     Observing his sides he saw no other figures that would jump out and just attack him. Stiles gazed right infront of him , but it was already too late the alpha disappeared. Quickly reaching into his pocket he grabbed one of the cylinders and brought it out. Feeling a sharp pain in his back, his eyes widen as everything  stood still and silent. "You are  not worth my scratch, but this will do." Feeling that cold steel blade leave Stiles body, small ruby red droplets fell on the floor from the blade while slowly Stiles shirt in the back began to absorb the blood.  Making his way around the Alpha brought the blade to his nose and smelled that rich scent in Stiles blood that send his pupils back like a drug."What is it about you that your blood is so intoxicating?" He brought the blade to his lips as he stuck out his tongue and licked the blade."Delicious."  Stiles stood still knowing that with maybe one false move his neck would be the next target.      Not wanting to take any chances he had to act hastily and get that wound checked. Seeing the alpha lick his blade like it was a lollipop. Stiles quickly brought his hand down a bit as he used what power he had and upper cur the alpha. Hearing the impact sound of his fist meeting the alpha chin, Stiles managed to make the alpha stumble back. Shaking his head the alpha roared to Stiles, those sharp canine teeth were exposed dripping with saliva that oozed down from the tip of his fangs. The alpha charged at Stiles ,knocking the skinny stilinski to the ground, the alpha got his knife and brought it down full force to Stiles stomach. Screaming out in agony  while the knife was in him he brought his hands to the alpha's side and hit his temples hard. Hearing a loud yelp Stiles quickly pulled the cap off as a spark was lit and slowly the fuse was  going down fast. Throwing it at the alpha Stiles crawled back a bit as aloud thud was made gazing at the Alpha as a cloud of blue smoke was around him, he quickly dropped to his knees reaching out as he was gasping for air. Stiles got up slowly and saw the blue monks wood engulf the alpha body , not looking back he licked his lips and felt them very moist. Bringing his hand up and wiping his pink soft lips, a dash of blood was on his hands. Trying to find his way back to the motorcycle, stiles could not help but feel a little light headed and he somewhat swayed back and forth while pushing his way out  of the woods. Falling to his knees he coughed up some blood and felt his body going weak. Collapsing onto the floor, Stiles breathing got heavier , while his body temperature was not helping it was way too low. Looking at the sky he held his hand over the wound and saw a shooting star. Closing his eyes  he began to make a wish, smiling a bit to make those dimples pop out, a tear slowly came down his face as the last thing he said was "sorry." And Then slowly his hand slip to the side as he stop breathing . ( it may suck, it may not basically I feel like its good and if you like it you can reply to msg or cmts, how ever you want, and if you dont well Kiss my ass and make me one then . Easy as that.)

First things first, I would like to say that I was inspired by quite a few role-playing games for the creation of this character and the world around her. If you are familiar with FFX (Final Fantasy X)  you will note that much of  this world was inspired by that game in particular (I figured since Spira's story was done, I would find a way to continue it in a different form) and you will most likely be able to grasp a better understanding of Yue if you are familiar with these sort of fantasy games, but it is not entirely necessary. If you have not noticed by now, she is located in an entirely different reality. If you are willing to work with that, than we can find many creative ways to meld our universes together to create a brilliant story. Thanks.-Now to my rules-1. I am a Novella writer. That means I can write anywhere from 8-20 paragraphs. I do prefer quality over quantity however, so I would rather you stop where it is most necessary. So long as the comment is good and I can respond, all is well.2. My headline says 18+, which means my comments will contain mature themes. I think this is self explanatory. 3. Please refrain from copying things from my page, much of it was inspired by RPGs, but my Aeons, characters and the world around them has been worked on and embellished by me. I created all of the gifs on my page except the one above the title 'The Dark.' I would appreciate it greatly if they weren't stolen. I want to believe I can trust my fellow writers and not have to put a giant tag across everything I create. 4. I'm not in the mood to hear complaining. That being said, I also would love it greatly if I was left out of your drama. I keep drama off my plate as much as possible. I don't need anyone forcing it upon me. 5. You don't have to be afraid to speak to me. I like to think that I am extremely creative and will work with you to create something good. However, if you add me, have something in mind, especially if you send a random starter without discussion in messages first. I am not a psychic, so make something happen and I will add to it and continue in the proper manner, but don't expect me to have a magic plan for you when I wasn't even the one who initiated something.7. For the most part, I believe that if you've added me you should send the starter. Sometimes I may break this rule if I'm feeling creative and truly long to write with someone and I may write the starter. I have a tendency to write a lot (which ranges at about 8-20 paragraphs, but I have done much more.) If you can not handle that, don't bother. I'm definitely not here to one-line, or talk in text speech. 8. Do try to speak English. I am not perfect and I will make mistakes, but I at least attempt to be coherent. Use spell check, it is readily available on just about every writing program. Re-read before sending comments to me and edit them. It is greatly appreciated. -I understand that for some people, English may be their second or even third language, and for cases like this I will not complain so long as I know that what they've sent is the absolute best they could do. In short, don't half ass what you send to me and all will be fine.9. Don't God-mode my character. In other words, don't say I've done something I didn't express to have done. I can move my character just fine on my own, thanks. I will try to provide you to the best of my ability with enough details to get things moving. If there's something you absolutely need to do, message me and ask. I'm sure I'll be reasonable. Also if it's something small, it shouldn't bother me too much. Just don't over do it, and respect my boundaries, because I will respect yours. 10. I post a lot of bulletins, but they're not necessarily for everyone. I understand that journals are much more public than messages or comments, so as long as I don't address anyone specifically they are free game. However if I express that a bulletin is for someone else, please keep from throwing in your two cents. If it is written that I am speaking in the privacy of my own room with another character, there's no way you could ever see the conversation even if it is in bulletins. So move on, and don't respond unless you're called upon, no matter how the post may make you feel. 11. Did I mention I hate people who complain? That includes people who rush me for replies. I answer people as quickly as possible, but I do have a life outside of RP. I also like to take my time, because I refuse to send people crap. If I am taking longer than usual, I will message you and tell you why. Don't rush me, don't post statuses saying things like, "Comments people!" "I'm bored!" "Pay attention to me!" "No one's talking!" It is annoying, and I will delete you. 12. I am on this site because I long to role play, so don't ask me If I want to. I will delete you. Catch my interest, send me a storyline idea and I will add to it. Send me an interesting starter and I will reply. That is what I'm here for. 13. This is a multiple storyline character. That means that each story is a unique fresh start. I will not cross my storyline with one writer with that of another. -I am open to role playing Yuna for those in the Final Fantasy verse.

The Slave Wars Pt.4   Video: “If I Had A Heart" (Norse Version)By: Fever Ray/Vikings (Original) Colm McGuinness (Cover) ___________________________________ Story Prelude Part 4 :*~*~(This is a segmented chapter of history that happened in the slavers’ war of Tevinter. The battle itself reached the outskirts of Nevarra lands thus explains why this was posted here, and from here it is mostly viewed from Tempest’s point of view.)*~*~A week and four days had passed since the last attack on the camp was unleashed. The supplies were nearly all destroyed and the weather conditions had yet to even let up. The groups of Nessum and Caimen Brea had to make a decision of whether or not to remain in the Silent Plains or to begin their move again. While it was apparent that some were more content with staying and waiting to send for reinforcements, there were plenty of others who were more than prepared to have left.“Who gave orders to start unpacking the damn tents?” Lasher asked as he marched out of his tent; making his way towards the center of the camp. “If you Caimen Brea f***ers want to sit around and wait for another attack, that’s your damn business, but leave my men and me out of your sh*t show!”Oatis rushed towards the center of the camp after hearing Lasher’s unhappy shouts about seeing the other slavers moving to unpack their things. “That was my call, Ser. I sent out a man through The Silent Plains to request for more reinforcements two days ago.”Lasher’s eyes flashed as his face did a visible twitch towards the direction of the chubbier man. Noticeably, Oatis had lost a little weight to his bulbous body, but he must have lost a bit of brain-sense along with it. To show his greatly climaxed displeasure, Lasher turned to him and within a single swift motion, brought up his fist and punched the other across the face.Oatis nearly fell over as he was forced to look in the other direction.“You just killed a man for no f***ing reason!” Lasher scowled at him and then shook his hand, to ease the vibrated repercussions in his wrist. “Did you even think to give him any maps? A compass? Even if he does make it close to the three cities, you don’t think those Trevis sh*ts will be waiting to tear his lone ass up to bloody shreds?”“What’s going on?” A Caimen Brea soldier asked as he witnessed the possible outbreak of a fight.Lasher glanced towards the man’s helmet shinning into his eyes and then folded his arms as he turned to watch Oatis recover from the hit. “This nug-licker here... Just very well gave away our f***ing position to the enemy, or cost us another man to the damn weather. We’re crossing the Imperial Highway and getting our asses to the Solas region before another ambush takes us by the throat.”“That’s quite a journey... and practically in the opposite direction of home. Do we have the manpower and the supplies to be making a march through the Plains?” The Caimen Brea soldier asked curiously.“More than that poor bastard Oatis just sacrificed.” Lasher rolled his eyes some. “We’re going farther away from home for a reason. The reinforcements of Trevis are bound to be in our way if we attempted to return home. That plan of action would be suicide, so we will head to a direction that we know for certain where they won’t be waiting.”Lasher turned away from them both as he started to walk away. “After that, we will stock up on supplies and then return back here to finish what we started.”“What if we get attacked again?” The Caimen Brea pressed for more questions.Lasher shrugged and threw his arms up into the air as he paused and turned back around to face them again. “Then we get attacked! We survive. We kill the bloody bastards and move the f*** on. Though I highly doubt they managed to pass us by just to turn around and cut us off in our path.”“They had Magisters with them the last time and that battle cost us.” Oatis remarked as his back straightened. He was still rubbing his cheek some from the punch earlier. “If we’re insistent on moving farther away from home, why not give the slaves weapons and have them help in the fight?”“Are you f***ing insane?” Lasher snapped towards Oatis quickly. “Giving knife ears, that don’t even speak a mutual language, weapons and then forcing them into battle? Need I remind you what happens every damn time that those f***ing cages are opened?”“They know by now they’re better off with us than fending for Trevis slavers.” Oatis argued.“You’ve either been sleeping with that elf again or you fell on your head--they’re dailish! ...Trevis would hardly be their concerns if they were released, you damn idiot!” Lasher snarled in a retort. “They know these snow covered plains better than you know your own mother. Set them loose and we’ll never see our profits again.”“Look around! We’re slowly losing our profits already!” Oatis argued in a stubborn attempt to keep his stand firm.Lasher glared at him for the moment and stepped closer towards him, but he then paused and turned away. He looked towards the last stable holding cage that contained the remaining cluster of slaves that they had and marched towards it. He saw Tempest there, and slowly an idea began to form in his head.Tempest had been communicating with the woman who had taught him his first words in elven. The process was slow since she didn’t seem to grasp half of the things he was saying to her. Still, he continued to talk, and hoped that she knew of at least some of the stories he told her. The elf woman still held the bearskin over her head like a shall to protect her body. She’s smile to him and nod her head from underneath the shadows of the cloak that protected her.Tempest told her stories about his life in Tevinter. He tried to keep his memories of it more focused on the city and the people there. He didn’t want to scare her with any of the negativity she may face in the future, but he did want her to have been a little prepared for something-anything if she could understand even a little bit of what he was talking about.“And the people there are more welcomed if they use magic too.” He continued to describe the place and gave a smile when he saw her start to smile in return on some things.“Can you speak elven yet?” Lasher asked once he was within earshot of them.Tempest looked up from the cages and started to straighten his back some upon seeing the redhead approach. “Uh... Not... Not really-”“What about her?” Lasher quickly darted his eyes and lifted his chin some in the elf woman’s direction. “You’ve been talking to her all week. Can she speak our tongue by now?”“I don’t know... It’s possible, but--” Tempest started to say just as Lasher pushed him to one side and started to open the gate. He quickly turned towards him in concern. “Lasher? What are you doing?”Lasher hadn’t answered him as he started to step into the threshold of the cage. The other elves started to scoot farther away to the other side to escape him. The redhead ignored most of the group that cowered away from him. He moved like water against the sea of frightened elves; with every movement he made forward, came a repercussion of movements from the crowd near him in attempts to escape.However, he had his targets picked out and when he was close enough he grabbed them. He snatched the arm of the elven woman whom Tempest was in the middle of a conversation with, and the elf boy that he had retrieved from the Trevis slavers a week ago. The woman started to holler in her panic as she tried to jerk herself free from him. The elf male raised his voice in panicked shouts and attempted to push him away to release the both of them. Still, Lasher quietly dragged them back out of the cage.“Close the cage and bring your ass along.” He instructed while dragging the two elves outside. He started to take them towards the center of the camp.Tempest hesitated a little as he watched before turning his attention towards closing the cage and locking it. “What’s going on?”He hadn’t answered him. Lasher merely continued to march until he reached the center of the camp. From there, the area began to crowd with soldiers and slavers alike. The men were dressed with their proper seals and patches of Caimen Brea and others of Nessum on their uniforms and armor. They had been around each other enough to know they could be relaxed around one another-more so than the Trevis groups at least. Though; with their supplies so low, remaining as enemies was the least of their concerns among each other.“Lasher, don’t.” Tempest started to plead once he caught up to them. He wasn’t certain, but he had a bad feeling of what was taking place. “Don’t do anything to hurt them. They still don’t know what’s happening to them--.” “Like hell, they don’t…” Lasher grimaced. Still, the elven woman started to cry as the elven man’s shouts of anger and fear fell on deaf ears. Roughly, the redhead threw them both down to the ground. Lasher then took a few steps towards one of the Nessum soldiers and snatched a bow and an arrow. He then grabbed a blade from the closest Caimen Brea soldier and returned with the weapons. Throwing the weapons down to the ground near them finally, Lasher then turned back on his heel towards Tempest once more.“Now, that’s enough!” Tempest started to shout back at him. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head but there’s no sense in-”“Pick her up.” Lasher mentioned while trying to hold back a snarl and then walked a few feet to the other side of the circle that started to form. He then looked over towards Oatis briefly and then towards the soldiers and slavers who all stood around curiously. “Now the rest of you may want to clear a path farther away from me.”Tempest glanced to him uncertain before stooping down and helped the elf woman back to her feet. She turned slightly into his embrace and started to cry against him. The only thing the mage could feel capable of doing was to soothe her with whispers of words; words that he was uncertain if she understood him or not.“Tempest!” Lasher called to him from over his shoulder and unsheathed his long blade. He then turned around and rested his grip against the handle of the blade in a lazy manner; keeping the sword out to one side. “Order that wench to tell her knife-eared kin, that if he wants his freedom, he is going to have to attack me.”“What?” Tempest questioned, still completely puzzled at Lasher’s actions.“Tell her that this scrawny sh*t has to the count of three to kill me, before I chop his f***ing sword arm off!” Lasher scowled and raised his blade, pointing more towards the elven lad.Tempest’s eyes widened as he looked from him and then back to the elf on the ground. He watched as the elf started to stand to his feet. He seemed to have still been a little disoriented, but coming to his senses. The elf looked back at the weapons that here at his feet: the bow and arrow, and the Caimen Brea blade. Green eyes lifted from the weapons and then towards the man with red hair who seemed to have had his own blade pointing in a challenging manner back at him in return.“You can’t be serious.” Tempest croaked, feeling his mouth run a bit dry.“Pick! Up! The bow!” Lasher demanded while the crowd started to talk amongst themselves as the confusion began to rise.The elven woman turned slightly and began to call out to the elven man on the ground. Her sobbing had seemed to calm down a bit, but it was still thick in her voice and easily detected in between of her native language. She was talking to the elf on the ground and giving him some sort of instructions-or so of what the others had thought.The male elf looked towards the woman talking to him. He then looked back towards Lasher who had seemed frozen in place of his challenge. The confusion was still etched clearly there as his eyes darted around the other soldiers and slavers who were all looking at him. Everyone was looking at him, it seemed; so whatever his actions were, would clearly be a decision-making one. It was apparent that either he was beginning to understand of what was going on, or he may have only been just grasping straws at the concept. He started to kneel down and grab the bow and arrow.Lasher waited with impatience still flaring in his eyes. His teeth flashed a bleached-white-envy as he continued to snarl. “One!”The elf’s hands were shaking a little as he started to load the arrow to the bow. He could hear concerned whispers around him, but seemed to do his best to tune them out.“Two!” Lasher demanded in the same bold tone as before.The male elf had drawn back his arm to pull the arrow back upon loading the weapon. He lifted his arms, feeling his elbows still quivering slightly due to the drawback. The cold air around his skin looked to have been bracing against him harder than it seemed to have been against the other slavers and soldiers around them. His breathing had seemed to calm as the stillness began to lurk into the air; making its presence ever more known.“Come on, f***er...” Lasher mumbled but he hadn’t taken the first step yet. He almost seemed to have been waiting for the elf to release the arrow.Everyone there knew that Lasher had been the one to kill the male elf’s father; so surely he was either waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike, or the elf really hadn’t understood anything even at that point. The moment of truth could have only been revealed after the final word had called out and passed Lasher’s lips.“...Three!” He finally announced and continued to wait, stiff without moving.The stillness remained. It was quiet and empty for minutes, but the minutes felt so much longer than they truly were. Suddenly the male elf turned quickly to the right near to the direction of ninety degrees and released the arrow. Everyone’s heads turned towards the sight, only able to keep up with the sound of the weapon’s trail as it whizzed past them.It’s goal landed quickly and deep into Oatis’s left collarbone. The blood squirted out in a rain of scarlet radiance and flowed like a fountain down the front of the man’s plush furs and onto the snow. His holler rang loud and true with pain, matching the loudness of pain in the sight of the blood that was surrounding him. Oatis started to fall as the soldiers and slavers near him started to catch him.It was a decent distraction enough. The confusion was sprung high again, for no one knew why the male elf would have attacked Oatis for any given reason. Still, the elf was not about to stop there. He only had that one arrow and a Caimen Brea blade to his arsenal. He knelt down briefly within his charge to scoop up the steel. In a rushed holler, the angry elf raised his blade and ran towards Lasher for his oppressive strike. As he came closer, and his battle cry became louder, the redhead turned quickly back over his shoulder and turned his blade at an angle to block the oncoming attack.The confusion had him pushed back slightly, straightening his legs and feeling the heavier weight being squished past the snow and into the mud of the earth below. Lasher turned his wrist and moved his arm clockwise in an attempt to take control of the attack and maneuver the elf’s blade against his will. The sword-play was soon reversed once Lasher was able to reverse his preemptive strikes. The metal clashed with teeth-gnawing sounds of a struggle, and the sparks began to fly visibly each time the two continued to fight.Lasher hollered back once his struggle was reaching a pivoting point. After numerous crosses between shifting footwork and exchanging parries, the redhead managed to trail a light scratch along the elf’s collarbone by the tip of his blade. The male elf’s green eyes widened at the possible thought of his doom, and in the result of his foretold demise--his hand slipped its grip from the sword. Lasher lifted one foot into the air, bringing up a rush of snow as he moved, and kicked the elf hard in his chest.The male elf fell backwards into the snow. He tried to catch his breath and prepare himself for the possible death he was about to receive, but nothing could prepare him for what Lasher had promised. The redhead quickly marched towards him roughly kicked the male elf’s arm at an odd angle, in which-case a direction of where the bone was never meant to bend. The elf hollered in agony, feeling and hearing the crack of his right elbow. Before he could have time to recuperate, Lasher lifted the sword and brought it down against the male elf’s broken elbow. He ended up cutting it right at the joined cartilage, and thus slicing off only of what he swore to take from him.The male elf’s hollers of pain and sorrow were eventually answered by the female elf’s running. She cried and threw herself over the other male’s body. Horrified with what transpired so quickly, Tempest barely had enough command within him to make his feet even once more. He couldn’t believe of what he had just witnessed, and for what purpose had seemed pointless! Rushing towards the two elves, he stood at the opposite side of them, looking down at them before looking back at Lasher with the same expression of shock and utter confusion.Lasher ignored him and stabbed his blade into the snow momentarily. He bent over to pick up the elf’s forearm. He could feel the presence of the other slavers beginning to crowd around them and close in for one purpose or another. Taking the arm into his grasp by its wrist, Lasher straightened his back once more and looked at the other men around him.“Leave him be. He’s no good to any Noble now.” Lasher warned the other slavers and then looked back down the elves near him. “He has earned his freedom, but his damn arm is mine.”“Why?” Tempest felt himself more than compelled to ask, and soon his voice grew from its previous meek tone. “What was the purpose of any of that?”“It has been decided. The elves are not to be given any weapons.” Lasher answered him and then looked towards the men around him as he continued to speak. “They are not to be trusted to fight on one side, because they have ‘no side’ in our war to fight. They are a prize; property, and nothing else!”The redhead then turned around, leaving his blade into the snow as he marched towards the other slavers, causing a few of the other men to step back. He lifted the elven flesh towards his teeth and bit off a small piece of the meat in the process. The sight of him chewing not only had showed a display of dominance, but also a breaking point of rage and lack of sanity. In either case, it was successful in warding off the crowd from caving in against him and keeping him from feeling less claustrophobic.“Do I make myself bloody clear?” Lasher demanded after swallowing a piece of the meat and pushed himself through the crowd. “Get those idiots patched up and start preparing for the march to Solas. Now!” Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all

The Slave Wars Pt.3   Video: “Beyond Scorched Memories"By: The Rise Undaunted (Caleb’s Theme)___________________________________ Story Prelude Part 3 :*~*~(This is a segmented chapter of history that happened in the slavers’ war of Tevinter. The battle itself reached the outskirts of Nevarra lands thus explains why this was posted here, and from here it is mostly viewed from Tempest’s point of view.)*~*~Had the sun always been this bright? He couldn’t feel the warmth radiating from the light that shined down so heavily. It was almost blinding. Were the colors of the world always this fuzzy? His vision had seemed blurred, as if his eyes were still covered with a light film of sleep; the type of film that couldn’t seem to have been wiped clear. Like water or clear mucus, but it didn’t sting, it just blurred his vision and no matter how many times he tried to rub it away, it would not leave him. At least the weather in which he found himself appeared to have been warm. Even though there wasn’t any snow around, he didn’t feel hot or cold.The setting looked like the woods, but there were no sounds of the woodland creatures. That was never a good sign. There should have always been the sounds of birds chirping, an elk scrapping his branches across the tree bark, or at the very least insects communicating to one another. Here there was nothing, and no signs of life in regards to animals or insects. The setting was empty.It was nothing like the setting he had last remembered himself remaining to be. Was this place somewhere in the Fade or was it just a dream? He had many dreams prior to this, and he has been in the Fade many times as well. Sometimes, determining the difference between the two was a little hazy for him to decipher. He tried to avoid both types by staying up as late as he could and having ‘black out’ sessions for when he slept. One thing was for certain though; he had forgotten to do that this time and he was currently not witnessing the real world.Was he dying? Blight's Blood! Had he died? He felt himself starting to panic and came to clear observation that at least he was still self-aware, if anything else. Perhaps he should have just started with what he knew.He knew his name was Luviar Tempest, he knew he was born of the Caedmon-Celestine decedent, and he knew his family betrayed his freedom since childhood by placing what they called a ‘gift’ upon him. His father, he knew, sacrificed himself so that Tempest could later harness the ‘gift’ of bloob magic. Though despite that, it was something of which Tempest clearly had seen more of as a curse. So in his eyes, his father’s sacrifice was for nothing.He at least knew himself, which was a good start.Memories started to flash into his mind rapidly, causing the blood mage to stumble slightly backwards and rest against of what looked like a great oak behind him. The flashes were sharp, causing his eyes to shut tightly to try and block them out. Memories of his father, covered in blood that seemed to flow up along his body instead of down by gravity’s weight, were being forced into his mind. The black smoke, the tainted aura, and the glow of disdain were thick and visible. Then the older man’s flesh was suddenly split apart and a new organism’s construction was taking an instant form. He was engulfed in fire and blood while the vivid form of metamorphosis instantly sprung into action.Tempest hollered, pressing himself against the tree farther back. His hands clawed at his head, though he didn’t feel as much pressure to himself as he thought he should have. He desperately tried to block out the image he was seeing. His hollers were deafening his own ears, but he couldn’t block out the sounds of the fire or the tearing of the other man’s reconstructed body. His knees started to feel weak and the sickening, overwhelming experience of it all pulled a heavy weight against him. Tempest hadn’t realized since when he was knelt down into the ground, but he was there now, rocking his head to and fro in order to ease away any experiences that he could.“Blood of Dumat! ...Not now! Be gone! Away with you!” He hollered again, feeling his shoulders shaking.When the sounds and the flashes had began to stop, believed that he had finally accomplished it. Tempest slowly lifted his head to see the flames had vanished but the image of the demon in front of him still remained. Normally such shouts would have worked for any other type of demon. However, he knew well of this one. It was a demon of Sloth-which had the ability to shape shift into anything it found easily presentable. Of course, Tempest was certain that many demons could shape shift if they really wanted to; though he was certain that the one before him was a Sloth demon. Tempest had faced many demons before, but the one that continued to show images of his father had always seemed to be the more persistent one.The demon had taken the form of a typical abomination: fused flesh that seemed to have been melted together, long sharp fingers that looked more like talons, and an unrecognizable face molded and shrunk farther down into the neck, which was in turn molded and shrunk down farther into the creature’s chest. It’s back was a large lump of hardened bone and skin, and the skin itself looked to have a leathery texture to it. He was still dressed in his victim’s robes, though they were tattered around the upper parts of its body, due to the transformation.Tempest groaned at the sight, and his anger of wanting to attack the creature was boiling in him, but he knew he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The body he inhabited was still his father after all, besides, he knew by now that this setting-the entire thing he was seeing, had to have been some sort of illusion or a dream, or the Fade. In any case scenario, fighting physically probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference. However, as long as Tempest refused to give in to the demon’s request-whatever it was-he would be fine. That was the only thing he could trust.“Why do you defy me so?” Breathing slowly, the demon questioned and lifted his hand and pointed towards Tempest beneath him. His voice came out as a deep gurgle, as though it was struggling to speak at first, though later the words would ring out with more clarity. “You use my talents and yet you attempt to shut me out in every corner of your being. Is that not a little unfair?”“Nothing’s fair in the world of the living.” Tempest responded with bitterness.“What a cold observation.” The demon mused and lowered its arm. “Was I not more than fair in giving my talents to you without requesting your form immediately in return?”“You took my father!” Tempest was quick to argue against him and pressed his hand against the tree behind himself to stand back to his feet.“As an incentive,” The demon began in a slow whispery voice, “he willingly came. You, however,...are a more... difficult matter. You are the true payment to my price, and still you try to ignore the exchange.”“You can keep your damn ‘price.’ I never wanted it!” Tempest fisted his hands and shouted at him still.“And yet you still use it...” The demon retorted and pointed at him again. “Do you not realize... I am already tied to you? The more you use my power, ...the stronger my bond to you will be. ...And the stronger my bond is... the stronger you will become.”Tempest’s jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed at the creature in front of him. He wasn’t about to listen to the beast anymore, as long as his will was still strong. “I am not my father; I do not need you. Vanish from my sight! There is no temptation grand enough to turn me to seek your aid.”“Have it your way...” The demon responded in a long drawn out sigh.Eventually the demon’s appearance began to fade, but along with his appearance so had the image of everything around him. The entire setting began to turn black, as though it was fading to nothing. Tempest looked around his darkening surroundings, and a mild fear of what was happening had started to stir within him. Soon, before he could even realize it, the darkness had swallowed him completely. The fear was returning to him again; the fear of dying...“Grab your weapons, men! To arms!” A soldier’s voice hollered from within the camp.Tempest had been sleeping snuggly in his crowded tent. The other slavers were quickly standing to their feet and reaching for their armor and weapons before rushing outside to answer the call. Tempest was not one for rude awakenings like this. Even if he wanted to, his sleep was slightly stronger at the moment. He couldn’t seem to wake up from whatever nightmare he was enduring.Lasher rushed into the tent once the others had ran out. He perched himself to the side of Tempest’s cot like a charmed viper and with a carefully formed hand, he struck at a pressure point against the other man’s neck.Tempest shouted from the unexplained jolt in pain, and when he saw the close-up view of a pair of unknown eyes, the remaining breath that was caught in his throat refused to come out other than a slight gurgle. The longing, crazed look in the other person’s eyes seemed to hunger for more fighting, and it was surely something that startled Tempest well enough.“Hurry the hell up. It’s starting.” Lasher spoke joyfully and then turned away to head out of the tent.Tempest pulled himself up, around the same time that he found his ability to breathe again. Blight's Cursed Blood! How he hated it when Lasher used pressure points against him in such manners! He wondered if that was some sort of trick Lasher’s trainers might have used against him at some point in his past. All he really knew was that it hurt briefly and it over-all required little effort from the attacker.His head was swimming as he looked for his staff and his boots. Did he have another dream? His memory of it all was a bit hazy-as it normally was when he slept. For some reason, Tempest continued to have this unnerving feeling prickling sensations down his back. He always had that feeling upon the moment of waking up, but he rarely ever remembered of what nightmare that may have kept him in that state. The only memory he was truly aware of haunting him-at least for the current moment-was that elf woman and Oatis. Perhaps that had been what spooked him yet again...When he was prepared, Tempest walked out of the tent. He looked around at the snow covered ground and breathed in the sharp air. The temperature stung his lungs as well as his skin, but he welcomed the sensations that braced against him. It reminded him that he was alive. Though the sights he was taking in was certainly of utter confusion and panic. There was fire to some of the tents already, people were locked in battle against one another and the blood was spilling like decoration to the trampled snow at their feet. The hollers and screams from both the slaves from their cages and the soldiers fighting alike, were adding to the confusion.The camp was under an attack.As a group came towards Tempest, he gripped his staff firmly into his hands and jabbed the first one to approach, in the chest. He then moved closer towards the opposite direction and tilted the other end to use for his next attack against another who was soon to arrive. He lifted the staff and twirled it upon lifting it above his head and then roughly swinging it down on a strike against a soldier that was coming to approach him straight ahead.Before even fully reflecting on his actions, Tempest released his staff into his left hand and concentrated on a spell called ‘Stone Fist’ and sent it towards one of the Trevis slavers who were approaching the cages. He then looked ahead to see the army moving forward towards the loosely protected goal. He had to get there (if anything other than to make certain that the cage was locked) before the Trevis slavers could manage a further onslaught.Clubbing and knocking away the Trevis oppressors as they charged in small groups, Tempest was feeling his body rise in the temperature of having to push himself this much. He let out a battle cry and began to resort more towards the quick lightening spells that his staff was infused with. The enemy was falling, though some were stronger than others and so the battle had waged onward. Tempest didn’t move as fluidly as Lasher could. He didn’t have a blade to do so, but his magic and abilities with the wooden staff were almost as effective.Lasher was lost in a state of bloodlust again. His eyes were practically red from the hatred spewing from every movement he had given in return. However, Lasher was a Reaver. So, this depleted his health naturally, and it left the impression of a wildfire blazing against all odds before going on a process of flickering out. He may have relied too much over his ‘Blood Frenzy,’ which was pulling him closer to exhaustion for the longer that he relied on it.When he started to reach moments of tiring out, his frenzy had started to calm down. He looked around at the death he had caused from fluidly wadding through the sea of Trevis slavers and hired hands. The fallen death proved sustainable health for him once he could switch his abilities to ‘Devour’ and began to use that ability to heal himself. It wouldn’t have taken him long to have been bathed in the enemy’s blood once more.His sword had tightened in his hands once he was healed, and his movements shifted towards the tents that were currently on fire. He hollered towards the enemy’s hired mages and Lasher moved his blade to strike at them in return. The groups of Trevis mages were in clusters of three. Two of the men turned their fires against him while the ones in the middle focused on a shield to protect themselves from a front attack. Lasher had fallen backwards into the snow, which quickly melted from the contact and doused out the flames; so if any injuries he had were mildly scorched.That didn’t clear them of a victory though; for several arrows rained down towards their blinded side and landed in their heads. Lasher pulled himself quickly back up to his feet and looked towards the archers who were lead by Oatis. He lifted his sword proudly in the air and gave a holler of victory momentarily and then turned back towards the tents to put out the flames in order to save what was left of the supplies.It looked almost as if they would win this battle as well, but then the explosions were heard near the outer regions of the camp. One of the cages had been set loose, and small cluster of slaves frantically poured into the center of the battle. More confusion and more death. Some had scooped up fallen weapons and began to join in the battle-if for anything else, just to push their way out of the current battle. Other tents that carried the medical and food supplies were quickly being raided and torn into.Tempest looked towards the new sounds of carnage after securing the main cage that held the most slaves in it. He saw where escaped slaves were making a run for it, and he used his magical abilities of ‘Stone Fist’ to knock them a few feet back into the snow. He didn’t want to hurt them, but he couldn’t allow them to escape with the last of their supplies either. Tempest knew of his next task clearly, and that was to secure the escaped slaves. He would have to put them in the main cage along with the ones he had previously secured.He had to focus his abilities into his staff for shorter ranged attacks against which Trevis soldiers who dared to approach to close to him. Tempest could feel himself loosing mana gradually, which was why he was resorting to more close-ranged attacks to give himself time to replenish what he already used. Tempest lifted his staff and pointed the top of it towards the main cage as he started to holler to the cluster of slaves he managed to catch.“Get to the holding cell!” He hollered above the battle cries and confusion. “Now, before you end up dying out here!”The elf slaves looked at each other and started to get up and move; like sheep herded from one station to another. Tempest’s gaze followed them slightly, and his defenses had started to drop. That was when he was attacked by an unknown force of magic. It knocked him straight to the ground. In a frantic movement, he started to roll to his side and cough out the cold slush of snow that started to fill his mouth. He could hear the crunching sound of running footsteps coming closer towards him. It could have been anyone; a Caimen Brea or Nessum slaver to pull him back to his feet, or a Trevis oppressor to end his demise.Before he could turn to see exactly, a blade was rushing down towards his line of vision. Tempest quickly lifted both his hand that carried his staff and his left hand separately to grab the oncoming blade. He hollered from the pain and shock as the sound of his staff had started to crack and give away up on the impact. It was just inches towards the bridge of his nose; shaking and threatening to be pushed down even farther in order to end his life. Tempest struggled trying to push his enemy off from him, feeling his skin break and the thick ooze of crimson blood drip freely down his arm. He knew he had to get back to his feet and fast.‘Paralyzing Hemorrhage,’ was what his mind focused on, more-so than his target. The spell ended up targeting more the slavers from all sides as well as the mage that was attempting to kill him. It inflicted a great amount damage, enough to cause the other to bleed and fall. The others around him were greatly wounded from the spell, and they couldn’t move. It gave Tempest time to catch his breath and stand back to his feet once more.He extended his bleeding hand towards the dying individuals around him, friend and foe alike-a survival instinct inside of him had kicked into action-and he used the ‘Grave Robber’ spell to end their lives and sustain his own. Once his breathing began to calm again and Tempest blinked some, trying to focus his control over himself, he looked back towards the slaves to see that most within the cluster remained somewhat obedient to his previous orders. They did so out of fear of him, naturally. Plus with the arrows raining down on the frozen Trevis slavers, did leave quite an impression.Tempest turned his attention towards plucking his cracked staff away from the dead arcane mage and then marched back towards the cages. With most of the battle finally finished from his end, he could send the remaining slaves back into the main cage and then check back on what was left of their supplies. The cold continued to sting his skin and lungs, the muscles in his hips and legs ached, and his left hand was cut and bleeding yet again-leaving proof that he still resorted to more blood magic. The only bright side that he could argue himself with was at least he was still alive, and he knew who he was. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all

The Slave Wars Pt.1   Video: “Cold"By: Jorge Mendez (Sad Piano & Violin Instrumental)___________________________________ Story Prelude Part 2 :*~*~(This is a segmented chapter of history that happened in the slavers’ war of Tevinter. The battle itself reached the outskirts of Nevarra lands thus explains why this was posted here, and from here it is mostly viewed from Tempest’s point of view.)*~*~The fire sizzled and cracked over the burning logs once it reached the dried wood of the makeshift center. If there was one thing Lasher knew the best, it was how to build a fire on top of piles of snow. Tempest did have to give him credit for that.The area had to be dry, which required damp dirt for the bottom, stones around the fire itself to keep as much snow from melting into water and seeping in between the cracks to put it out, and of course piles upon piles of dry wood and leaves to burn. Though most of the trees had too much sap in them to really catch into flames, it took a little while before they could begin to burn properly.Tempest was staring back down at his bandaged hand from where he injured himself for the sake of the battle. The wound itself was clotted up and stiff. Every time he slowly attempted to move it, a stinging pain centered near the main artery of his hand. He had almost cut too deep this time, and he knew it, but the cold weather was proving to be a challenge for his power.Lasher was sitting on the other side of the fire, watching Tempest seemingly sulk over his problems. The redhead though; never seemed as bothered by the present tasks, or even his own injuries. He hardly had any this time anyway. Besides, now that they were back at the camp, they were able to finally relax. He could even swig down a few drinks and let another slaver guard the tents for a while.“Does it hurt?” He finally asked before tilting the bottle of alcohol to his lips.Tempest looked up at the sound of Lasher’s voice and his eyebrows lifted in a state of disbelief and annoyance. “... ...Yes. It hurts.”Lasher made an audible grunt after swallowing down a few gulps of his liquid and then lowered the bottle to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. “You need to stop thinking about it with that kind of attitude. Embrace the feeling. Slowly; if you have to, at first.”“I’m not like you... Sometimes pain is pain. That’s how I feel it.” Tempest shook his head and looked back at his hand again.“You wouldn’t have to if you’d take my advice...” Lasher mentioned and then moved to stand up. He walked towards the sack of their remaining supplies and grabbed another flask before turning and heading closer to Tempest. “If it’s that bad of a problem, then why don’t you just heal it?”“I’m not that good at healing...” Tempest found himself admitting openly. He then lifted his head and watched as Lasher walked towards him and handed a flask of liquor to him. Reaching up with his clean hand, he accepted the offer and lowered it back to his lap. “The only healing spells I know would require blood. If I bleed out for someone else. That would just make them a thrall. If I need to heal myself then others must bleed for me. Alchemy is my only safe option... and out here in the snow, there aren’t many resources left.”“Well, that’s reassuring for battle...!” Lasher added almost in his cheery tone again and took another sip of his liquor before walking back to his spot by the fire to sit down. “At least the snow stopped falling for now. You may be able to still find things for salves if you look hard enough. Or, hell, start using the dead Trevis soldiers more often.”“True... But I may as well heal normally at that rate. I’m not about to dig through the snow for any materials that may or may not be already withered from the weather. It’s just about as likely as coming across more enemies to fight right now…” Tempest continued and turned his attention briefly towards taking a sip from his given flask. The liquid was warm and it burned down his throat like fire, but the inner fire felt good against the cold.“Fair enough.” Lasher answered and leaned back against his resting spot against the logs behind him; using the pile as a backrest.Tempest looked from his flask to look back at Lasher once more. He paused a moment, as if he was going to move towards taking another drink, but he hesitated. Resting his flask against his knee, he tilted his head to one side and watched Lasher a bit more. “You said you had seen an elf scalp someone. Is that something common out of the dailish?”“Not really, but I wouldn’t put it past them.” Lasher answered looked back towards him from between the flames. His eyes had dropped though and he looked back towards the fire. “I did see it happen... Though I’m sure the knife ear was out of his head too.”“So, he was mentally unstable.” Tempest nodded as if coming to the conclusion on his own.Lasher scoffed at the answer and looked away. “He was probably just driven from rage. Rage is a powerful thing.”“You can’t imagine the sight of that much hatred.” The redhead said as his words lightly trailed off afterwards, as if he was nearly lost in a memory. “You’d have to actually see it in someone’s eyes... And you can’t imagine the kind of anger it must have took to grab a fist full of hair, jerking that person’s head back and sliding a dull shiv across the forehead.”The mage lowered his head slightly but his eyes remained to study the man as he continued a rather unsettling tale.“No matter how sharp a blade is, at that close of a range, there would still be a struggle... Especially while the victim is still alive. They would have had to have been pinned down with a lot of force.” Lasher turned his head back towards Tempest as he explained more. “It couldn’t be a solid, single motion to finish the deed either. It takes a number of times to complete it; sawing, pulling and slicing until the pearly white bone of the skull glistens into view. A lot of hatred and a lot of force...”“Who was it?” Tempest caught himself asking.Lasher rocked his head against the logs another time before taking another drink. “My younger sister. Clarisa.”Blue eyes darted away as Tempest tried to avert his gaze elsewhere. He started to lift his flask and speak softly just before taking another drink. “I’m sorry.”“Don’t be. She probably deserved it.” Lasher rolled his eyes and snorted some at the sympathy in his direction. “She was always a snake in the grass... Did anything she could to get me or the slaves beaten. She did bloodmagic like you, but she was more ...discrete... about it.”Tempest tilted the flask up for a final drink and then placed the bottle back into the snow beneath him. He remained somewhat comfortably perched on a rock, where he could remove his boots and for the moment allow his feet to dry. After all the walking in the snow, he wouldn’t want to catch Gang Green or Water-locked conditions. Having the skin wet for long periods of time and trapped within a moisture contained environment was dangerous to the health. He would have rather dealt with the cold briefly before allowing easy infections or poisons.“I just meant...” He started to say and then wondered at what he was trying to explain. After shaking his head some, Tempest continued, “I mean I see now why ...you have such venom against elves.”Lasher’s legs swung against the woodpile he was sitting on and while his back remained nestled in his wood pile from behind. He looked more like a viper, resting his ‘tail’ against a well-secured wooden nest. Rolling his eyes some at the statement before taking another drink, he lowered the flask down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.“Nah. I hate every-f***ing-one and every-f***ing-thing, you know that.” He answered promptly retorted and moved the flask towards his lap. “It’s my job; and I don’t discriminate, I tolerate.”“Is that what you call it?” Tempest asked in a bit surprise; finding that he was learning more about this person every time.The redhead looked back at him and smiled some before looking towards the holding cages that the other elves were imprisoned in. The tarp was pulled down to keep them protected from the cold. His auburn eyes continued to stare towards the direction of the built cage as he started to speak again.“We are slavers, Tempest. We’re not their friends. We are to give protection to their basics of needs, and to show authority where it needs to be shown. Sometimes the balance is lost. Sometimes we tend to do one action more than the other, but that’s because we are paid to train them and sell them. Nothing else. We are hired to show them that ‘slaves are property.’ They belong to someone, and if they don’t realize it or accept it, they will revolt against it... and lives will be lost either way because of it.”“So, you believe in this? ...For the good of their sake or for the Magisters? Or the Nobles?” Tempest asked in disbelief.Lasher shrugged some and looked back towards him again. “Look. It’s just how things are run around here. You can’t expect it to change overnight, and we’re not paid to change it overnight.”“I could understand it a little better if the people intentionally sold themselves into slavery,” Tempest started to argue and shrugged his shoulders some in the process, “...but these are dailish. I may not know much about them, but surely they’d take more pride in themselves as opposed to the city elves of where I’m from.”“And I’m assuming you can clearly tell the difference between the two? Half of your precious city elves are the f***ing dailish. Sh*t! They at least try to be.” Lasher sighed tiredly looked back towards the fire again, “It’s as I said... sometimes things get knocked out of balance. That’s an issue you should be arguing with your damn Nobleman about, but I’d know better than to ask mine any questions. I just do my job and keep my mouth shut.”“No you don’t.” Tempest smirked some in response. “You’re the loudest damn Nessum ‘soldier’ I’ve ever come across.”“And you’re the softest f***ing Caimen Brea ‘soldier’ I’ve come across!” Lasher retorted with an equal expression. “You’re so f***ing green the trees envy you! How the Trevis f***ers have not have killed you yet, I wonder...”“Whatever it is, it’s probably for the same reason why they haven’t killed you.” Tempest answered, earning a laugh from the other afterwards.“I think I can drink to that.” Lasher remarked and lifted his flask again.“Tempest, get your ‘arse’ over there to the cages and keep watch. It’s your turn.” Oatis called as he started to approach them from the tents.“Oh, look at the big man spouting orders... Guess I better hurry.” Tempest remarked brightly as he started to lean forward as he wobbly reached for his boots to pull back on and tie.He was hoping to let his feet dry for a little longer, but it didn’t seem that he was going to get the chance just yet. stood back up to his feet once more. He smiled brightly towards Oatis and began to walk towards the direction he was given. As he passed him though, the mage kept quiet after that. He could hear the annoyed grunt Oatis had given which had only been his reward for the moment. Tempest could keep his smile for that.He walked over to the cages and pulled back the tarp to check the elves that were still huddled on the wooden planks of the cells that the slavers had kept for them. They were all seeking warmth and hugging each other to fend off the cold. Most of their bodies were covered with feathers, leathers, and mixtures of furs, but their frames were practically skin and bones. Tempest didn’t know much about the dailish at all; he was only going with assumptions of what he already saw.Still. He couldn’t fully grasp how Lasher could see them as a threat. Surely the one that killed Lasher’s sister was one-of course-but the ones they had near them now, appeared too brittle to him. They looked more capable of shattering themselves before causing damage to anyone else. There was hardly any muscle to them mainly because they were not warrior elves; and most were women who probably had spent their lives as ‘homemakers’ for the hunters within their tribe.Dozens of eyes looked at him as they pressed themselves against the walls of their confinements. They were the eyes of fear and hatred; and so many. They seemed to have wanted to be as far away from him as they possibly could. They feared him, and Tempest felt ashamed. He looked towards the one elf woman, who he remembered was taken by Oatis during his ‘initiation’ from the night before. Even she had given him that same look, as if he was no better. She was shaking from in between two smaller-framed male elves, and Tempest couldn’t tell if it was from fear or if it was because of the cold.His blue eyes darted away some as his shoulders slid the bearskin from his back. Tempest started to roll up the fur and slowly extended his arm out from between the stripped logs of their cell. His gaze met the shivering woman’s in return as he stood there and waited.“Go on. Take it...” He gestured and found that his waiting was only answered with more silence and stagnation. Tempest racked his tongue lightly across his chapped lips and he started to look towards the larger huddled elves afterwards. “....Blast it... You probably don’t understand me after all. Do you?”The elf woman then gently pushed herself from between the two male elves and walked closer towards Tempest. Her approach was timid, but daring enough to accept the offer. As she slowly lifted the bearskin from his hands, she saw the clotted injury from where the mage had slashed open the wound. There was a hint of knowledge in her eyes as she cradled her hand underneath his in return. Tucking the rolled bearskin under one arm, the elf woman clasped her other hand over his hand completely.Tempest was a little uncertain to what she was doing. He had the first instinct to tug his hand away, but his elbow had seemed to be reluctant from following his desired command. Surprise started to shimmer in his eyes when he looked down to see her hands beginning to glow a silver colored light. Soon afterwards, his own hand started to reflect the same colored aura. Once the glow had dimmed and the elf woman released her grasp from him, Tempest carefully lifted his hand back to his face to see where the injury once was-had now been healed. He stretched his hand some, flexing and then fisting his hand gently as though to test if there was any more pain. No pain. The elf woman had successfully given him a healing spell to ease him of his injury! It was not entirely needed, nor necessary for Tempest, but it was surprising.Tempest turned his hand to show her the healed palm and clumsily started to bow his head. He didn’t know the term to properly use, but he did wish to show his gratitude to her. So, his words fumbled along with his shied actions. “Tha-Thank you... Thank-”“Ma serannas.” The elf woman smiled a little and bowed her head low.Tempest paused some and retracted his arm slowly from cage as he looked at her. He wasn’t certain, but he thought perhaps she was trying to welcome him somehow. “Ma... ser....?”The woman lifted her head again, keeping a small smile and brought the fur cloak back into both of her hands. She then bowed once more and repeated her phrase. “Ma serannas.”“Ma serannas... ‘Thank you’...?” Tempest started to question and then once he understood he smiled a little in return. “’Thank you.’ That’s it, isn’t it? Ma serannas.”“Tempest!” Lasher hollered from the campfire once he saw the mage facing the cage for a moment too long. “What in Dumat’s hairy armpits have I told you about making friends? You’re going to freeze them if you keep that cover off them, you flaming blighter! Close it, now!”Tempest glanced back over his shoulder from the shout and quickly did a double take towards the elf woman again. He lowered his head some apologetically and eased back out of the tarp to close the flap away from the colder air outside of its protection. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all