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Rules/Regeln, Language/Sprache, Facts/Fakten, Death/Tod, Sex,Sex, Sex
 Once again:
Usually I'm a para-, multi-para- or novella-player, and my general lower limit are two paras/comment, but I'm not strictly against one-liners; sometimes. It depends on the content of the one line...
Please, don't send me starters (except we talk about this before): usually they bore me and I seldom answer. Go in medias res! If you want me, tell me. Seduce me, inspire me, get my interest. Don't ask me how I am or who I am, for then I'm the one who disappears. Get in touch! (And I mean it exactly this way...) Though I'm an immortal, I remained human. More than human, of course... And most of the time I'm a pretty nice guy.
You have to excuse, but I will not always be able to answer as fast as I would love to, so please show patience. Even me got a real life to deal with... (and sometimes... there's pretty a lot to deal... sigh.)
About breaking the law:
Wozu sind Regeln da? Um gebrochen zu werden... Die Sache mit den getrennten Handlungsf�den scheint f�r viele ohnedies kein Thema zu sein. Ich habe es mittlerweile geschafft, eine Ehe in die Br�che gehen zu lassen, also... Keine Regeln! Macht, wonach auch immer Euch der Sinn steht. Sollte es mir nicht gefallen, werde ich dementsprechend reagieren. (Nicht wahr, Louis?)
Tabus gibt es keine, au�er solche, die wir uns selbst auferlegen.
Whereto are rules? To get broken certainly... All story-lines should be separated and no one got the right to annoy me with any kind of envy or jealousy, but well... I found out that this rule is easily broken and too often the origin of drama. (Because of me there had been a divorce already, so what...?) I SO EFFIN HATE THIS! Therefore: NO RULES!!! Do what thou wilt! If I dislike it, you will sure get to know it. And... a wee bit of godmoding isn't bad at all...
TABOOS? I don't need them.
One really important fact: Don't get any crazy ideas like to marry me! Don't try to cage me! I'm not the genetic father to yer child! I never will be! So... don't try to change me! Don't ever think you know me! I'm Irish: I'm free and I want to stay this way!
And: I can't get pregnant! That's simply stupid! I'm a man and I'm an Immortal. I'm sterile in any way, so sorry!
Sex... is always nice and welcome:
Du willst mehr erfahren? Dann komm unter meine Decke...
You wanna know more? Then slip under my blanket...
Ich muss gestehen, ich liebe es Pornographie zu schreiben, und je nach Wunsch und Bed�rfnis gleite ich gerne in die Abgr�nde von Hardcore, Bondage und Sado/Maso, doch nichts desto trotz w�rde ich neben ausgiebigen Fickereien auch eine Handlung bevorzugen, also zeig mir, dass du Fantasie hast!
Sex und Liebe sind eine ganz eigene diffizile Kunst, also tu mir bitte den Gefallen und lass unser Roleplay nicht in eine endlose Beschreibung anatomischer Details oder vulg�rer Langweiligkeiten abgleiten. Wir schreiben hier keine Texte f�r Wichsvorlagen!
I have to confess that I absolutely love to write porn, and if we both want it or need it I always savor to decent to the abysses of hardcore, bondage or S/M, but nevertheless I would prefer more than shagging around all the time. This is roleplay not a jerk-of-file, so show me that you're imaginative!!!
Making love is a difficult kind of art, so please, don't let it drown in endless anatomic descriptions or simply boring vulgarity!
And by the way, against all rumors: I'm not gay, I'm bi, but I prefer men, damn true. (I'm not sorry, so deal with it...)
Short-cuts bout me:
Ascarion Cyrus Hawkmoon
Born on the 30th of August 1001 anno Domini on the eastcoast of Irland, near a small village called Wicklow
Killed in a stormy April night 24 years later by a kind of barbarous creature (A vampire? A werewolf? An immortal? Just a kind of weirdo? Dunno... still)
Clan: Hawkmoon
Father: Ezra
Mother: Lorennha (died in child bed when I was 7)
Siblings: Ophelia
Christopher (died within womb)
Children: Victor Fenrir La Fey-Hawkmoon, David-Louis
Status: Do I have one? Except being well-known as 'the virus', the redheaded harlot, the golden-hearted lover, the naughty boy, the wild child? Well, immortal already. Indulging in drinking blood, but no 'real' vampire at all. Some kind of angel. Having fangs (as a hommage to my kindred brothers the grey wolves of the shadowzones) and a nearly invincible imagination.
Distinguishing marks: My entire left arm is covered by a tattoo of two dragons, my right wrist is inked with a white rose and a bracelet of thorns.
Several piercings (both ears, left nipple, navel).
Skills:
- As a clans-man born into a rough era, I'm able to fight with sword and dagger.
- I'm pretty talented to play the harp and my voice is not this bad at all.
- My imagination is my magic. I'm able to change things or entire surroundings. I can return to the shadow zones whenever I wish. I'm not able to make time stand still, but I got the power to expand a simple second to a small whiff of eternity.
- Capable to speak the language of my forefathers: Gaelic and Latin.
- Some call me 'The false prophet': Cause I love words, I know how to use them. I'm a poet, a writer, an artist. A libertine, of course.
Most beloved style: Gothic (black, black, black!), but I love camouflage workings-pants or noble frock coats as well.
I am the one who dies with his boots on.
Gevatter Tod/ The Grim Reaper:
Ihr k�nnt getrost versuchen, mich zu t�ten! Es k�nnte dem Spiel durchaus ein wenig Reiz und Action geben, nur - seid gewarnt! - den Zeitpunkt meines endg�ltigen Abgangs bestimme ich immer noch selbst!
If you got guts enough you can try to kill me! Possibly it'll bring some thrill and action to the game, but - be warned! - the point of my definite leaving will always be my own decision!
And... by the by: YOU can't really kill me! I got a deal with Death. He changes his form to sleeps older sister and we're gonna fuck our brains out. But I never will follow her except in the hour I decide to stay with her for ever... Not now, I'm so damn sorry. But keep on trying. I definitely love to get eviscerated... Hot feeling, yeah! (And Lady Death always is grateful to get me again...)
Ach, �brigens: DU kannst mich nicht t�ten! Ich habe eine Abmachung mit dem Tod. Er ver�ndert sein Aussehen f�r mich und wird des Schlafes �ltere Schwester: dann ficken wir uns das Hirn aus den Sch�deln! Aber ich folge ihr nicht; au�er an dem Tag in ferner Zukunft, an dem ich mich entschlie�e wirklich bei ihr zu bleiben! Nicht jetzt, tut mir sehr leid... Aber probier es weiter: es ist ein verdammt geiles Gef�hl ausgeweidet zu werden... Irgendwie steh ich drauf! (Und Frau Tod ist sowieso �bergl�cklich wenn sie mich mal wieder in die Finger bekommt...)
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