Birthright: A Fantasy RPG -- Day [entries|friends|calendar] Birthright [ website | My Website ] [ userinfo | greatestjournal userinfo ] [ calendar | greatestjournal calendar ]

Stitches [11 Oct 2004|01:35am] With hands tucked deep inside her pockets, Rhiannon approached the cemetery gates. The rancid scent of decay had drawn her near, and as she paused beneath the archway, her eyes were pulled up to its source. A rotting corpse had been crucified and hung there. She tilted her head, reading the message left behind. 'Abandon hope, all ye souls who enter here.' Rhiannon 'humphed' to herself and lifted her eyebrows, thinking on the event that had changed her own life inside those gates. The same one that brought her back again, though the pull had not been as strong since Darian appeared. Darian. The very name now made her recoil in disgust. With a slight shake of her head, she took a few steps further inside, the only sound on the air that of her boots in the loose gravel. Beneath the legs of her tight black pants, her weapons clung to her calves. The bandages over her ribs were masked by the dark material of her shirt. Ten yards from his front door, she stopped, knowing he would sense her there, that no announcement of her presence was necessary. "Damn it!" Tristan sucked at his fingertip as a bead of blood formed there. He stood up in a rage and threw the sewing needle across the room, along with the black ball of thread attached to it. He looked down at his jacket in disgust, the rip in the shoulder even larger now than when he had started his mending chore. "Guess I'll have to turn some seamstress so she can fix it." Great, now I'm talking to myself too. He wrenched open the door to his fridge and grabbed one of the blood bags out that he had taken from the hospital delivery job. As he poured it into a glass and placed it in his microwave his skin shivered. Rhiannon. He turned his head toward the front door and waited. Rhiannon pulled her hands from her pockets and crossed her arms, letting her weight rest on one leg. Her eyes remained on his door, an interesting gouge left in the center where she'd jammed her stake through the wood weeks ago. As the seconds ticked by, she calmly pulled a clove from the pack in her hip pocket and lit it, inhaling deeply before blowing the smoke in the direction of his door. There was no way in hell she was going in that crypt again, as long as she had anything to say about it. Rhiannon slowly smoked her cigarette, the red tip working its way towards her lips. Once half-finished, she dropped it to the ground. Tristan leaned against his counter and waited for his microwave to stop. When it beeped, he nonchalantly opened it and took out the steaming, near-congealed blood. He cupped it in his hand and slowly walked to his front door. His nostrils flared for a moment. He could actually smell her out there. He smiled to himself and opened the door. Stepping out he could see the glow of her cigarrette in the darkness. He raised the cup to his mouth and took a long drink. Then he leaned against the side of his crypt and smiled at her, the mug held firmly in his hand. "Hello." "Tristan," she acknowledged, index fingers tapping against her upper arms. With a slight inclination of her head, she gestured back over her right shoulder. "Nice lawn art." ( Caveat ) ( Harder ) reply

A Visit [11 Oct 2004|03:06am] [ mood | aggravated ] I saw the vamp Jo tangled with, she looks worse than he does. I saw him in the desert, burning the crucified corpse and some clothes. Wonder why he'd do such a thing. Whatever. ( A Hand For Jo ) She's in very bad shape for a Slayer. I know she's in pain, not just physically, but her pride. How could he go in there and just attack her without provocation?! I need to find out who he is, and find a way to disable him. All this on top of earthquakes, wasps, darkness, zombies and possessed townfolk. What is this place? Who made up the rules to this game? reply

Message In A Bottle [11 Oct 2004|03:31am] There were protective qualities. Were... Not now. Not since the one of runic rites and blood had ceased to be in control of personal faculties. So to the interior of a house the shadow went. Emmeline Keddle had proven to be both a bother and useful resource. More recently it had been the former. Elfleda did not take kindly to the encroached darkness, caused by others, to be taken away. Above the woman's bed, a series of sigils in an ancient language would be found scorched by heat in the wall. It was a lost alphabet: One which few humans would identify and from a time when Illyria's elder incarnation would have walked that realm. 'BETRAYAL OF SHADOW SHALL NOT VANQUISH RETRIBUTION' When cloaked in the dark, it would glow a series of shifting colours; yellows, greens, reds and blues. Upon that very bed, a black, glass bottle was laid. It, like the firearm elsewhere another had picked up, was embued with a temptation. The temptation to drink. To drain. To consume. Inside it laid the dead heart of something unnatural. An organic mass. Succubi were dangerous things, but they could die also. The internal organ laid there, preserved by richly alcoholic substance, but covered in etched engravings. Were a human to consume the fluid content surrounding it, so tainted, then a fresh need would begin to assert itself. The refreshed appetite for sexual conquest would start, slow at first, then gathering speed so quickly that the mind would become a tornado of eroticism. First would be romantic thoughts, then swiftly to be followed by the need for procreation - then ultimately just sex. Pure, unrelenting sex. Some people, if the drive was high enough, could literally kill a partner while involved in the natural act. So it would be with whomever partook of this too. But done with a supernatural intensity to cause the hunger to be like nothing else. At least, until the bottle was broken, the glass smashed and the demonic flesh within seen to spontaneously combust in flames at contact with the air. The more someone drank, the more addicted they would be. Just one more drink, they would think... One more couldn't hurt... And it would taste so very nice. The liquid would never run out and always renew. It could not be exhausted. But it could easily be drunk from. Until eternity came to pass. reply

Happy Birthday to You [11 Oct 2004|04:31am] [ mood | pleased ] Dawn was in her -their?- room, listening to a Dingoes Ate My Baby song on the CD player while her laptop was running. Sprawled out on the bed, her chin was in her hand as she checked out a new database one of her college friends had sent her. Thick tomes were spread out all around her, open to various demons or demonic hotspots. Of course she had other windows open aside from the database as she was still on the lookout for more odd websites to send Connor. However, for the time being, she was immersed in research. Clad in a white tank top with the legend 'I stole this off a dead chick' and black pajama pants, she scissored her bare feet back and forth. Connor checked the clock on the wall in the upstairs bedroom, having just gotten out of the shower and dressed in his more sleep-type clothes, blue pajama pants and a long sleeved grey shirt that'd seen better days. It was so well worn that if you were looking hard enough, you could even see some of the dark bruising on his body through it. He pulled open the nightstand's drawer, and pulled out the black drawstring pouch inside. He finger combed his wet hair, shaking his head, then tossed the bag up and caught it. His eyes ticked to the clock again, and it was time. He got up, and hopped his way down the steps. He limped for Dawn's door, and knocked on it, pushing it open a little ways to peek in. "Guess what?" he asked. ( surprise ) reply

Been Quiet [11 Oct 2004|05:46pm] [ mood | calm ] ( Note Slipped Under Rhiannon's Door ) ( Voicemail For Jo ) ( Voicemail For William ) It would seem I may have myself a room-mate in the form of Azure. He and I appear to be in the same boat and oddly enough, all the apartments I've looked at have been two bedroom. He's a character, very different from the people I'm used to dealing with but we are fighting for the same cause. Which is what matters at the end of the day. I believe it's time for me to patrol. It's about time I killed some vamps. All these books are driving me up the wall. I know I'm supposed to research Lilith but it seems pointless. I know she has nothing to do with any of this. It's slightly annoying and almost an insult to me and my abilities. Notice how I say almost as luckily enough I'm not easily offended. Right, enough chatter. Time to patrol. 3 comments | reply

Less Than Pleasant [11 Oct 2004|06:22pm] [ mood | annoyed ] I have never hated anyone in my whole entire life. I've disliked a lot of people in my time but hate? No never come to that but the other night with Tyler. I came very close to hating him. I couldn't believe him and his whole approach to "wising me up" who is he to tell me what I should or shouldn't believe? From the mouth on him, I'd say he's very new to town. Not many people talk if they've been in town for a long period of time. I dislike being patronised and he did just that, he treated me as if I was the one with the problem and I was the one who needed to calm down. How else does he expect me to react? You just can't force information on people and expect them to like it especially as I've been sent to this town to find out the exact opposite of what he told me. I just can't believe something a total stranger tells me, it's just the way I am. I need to see things with my own two eyes. I need cold hard facts. I am a logical person with more than enough intelligence to know something is going on in this town. But I won't believe rumours, I won't believe fancifual tales and I won't believe a man I only just met, I need to see for myself. I'm so tired of this town and I'm so tired of meeting brick walls. reply

Haunted [11 Oct 2004|07:06pm] [ mood | shocked ] "Domi? Mum said you'd read to me before bedtime." "Emily, I'm studying." "But mum said!" Does father know that? He knew if his father were here, he'd have to study. According to his father, he never studied enough. But their parents were out for the evening, and Dominick was in charge of his little sister. At ten years old, he was the big brother. Emily didn't understand that he had responsibilities in his young age. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "Just let me finish one more chapter, okay Em?" She grinned at him. "Okay, Domi!" Then she raced out of his room to finish the tea party she had set up in the living room. A soft knock at the door. Emily waited, but her brother didn't come out of his room. He must not have heard. He was always studying. Emily took a last sip from her toy tea cup that sat in front of Miss Rabbit and then went over and opened the door. She knew she wasn't supposed to. It was dark outside. But Domi was busy, and mum and father were not home. She mustn't be rude. She only opened the door a crack. A handsome man, dressed in a black coat with his blonde hair slicked back, stood on the stoop. He gave Emily a big smile. "Hello there. Are your parents home?" Emi shook her head but smiled back at the friendly stranger. He mock frowned. "Well, that's a pity. I was hoping to come look at the painting." Emily just stared at the man, confused. "You know dear, the painting they have for sale? The one that hangs over your father's desk?" Emily's eyes grew wide and she giggled and nodded. "The horsey painting." The stranger smiled again. "Ah yes, that is the one. I wonder if I may be permitted in to see it? I am thinking of buying it, you see." Emi thought about the painting. She never liked it. The horses in it looked mean. It kind of scared her. If this man wanted to buy it, she'd be happy. He looked at her, a teasing glint in his eyes. He looked over his shoulder, noting the silence of the night. "Would you invite me in?" He pulled a lollipop out of his pocket and held it before him. "Please?" Emily smiled and opened the door wide, not taking her eyes off of the sucker he held in his hand. When the man hesitated, she finally spoke the invitation. "You can come in." He handed her the sucker as he crossed the threshold, glancing around the living room. "So, your parents are not here then?" Emily quickly took the wrapper off of the sucker and plunged it into her mouth, answering him from around the stick that jutted out of her lips. "No, but Domi's here." The man straightened. "Domi?" Emily nodded. "My brother. He's studying. He's always studying." The man, his skin as pale as the snow, chuckled. "I bet that he is." He stooped over so that he was at eye level with the little girl. "May I tell you a secret?" Emily nodded enthusiastically. She loved secrets! The man chuckled from deep in the back of his throat, his eyes alight like fire. He held his hand out and pointed at her with a long finger. "Come closer." As Emily took a step closer she had a bad feeling. This man looked...funny. What about the horsey painting? She felt his cold breath on her cheek, and realized too late that she had made a terrible mistake. The man reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders. With lightening quick speed his face changed into that of the demon...a vampire. He sunk his fangs into her neck, but not before her screams pierced the night. Dominick almost fell out of his chair as the yell was exclaimed. "Emily!?" He shouted, flying out from behind his desk. His shin connected with the leg of his chair and he sprawled down upon the ground, costing him precious seconds. His own heart almost stopped as he pulled himself back up to his feet, only to realize he could no longer hear his sister's scream. He ran out into the living room. The stuffed animals encircled the toy table, a play tea party interrupted. The front door stood open. Dominick ran out the door into the night. But it was too late. He tripped over Emily as she lay on the wet grass. He grabbed her into his arms, pulling her into his lap. Her throat was ripped out. His little sister, Emily, was gone. "It was your fault, Domi. You wouldn't come read to me." Dominick moaned as he slept on the couch. The book he had been reading fell to the floor and he rolled onto his side. "You should have protected me, Domi. Mum and Father trusted you. I trusted you. And now I'm dead!" His eyes sprung open and his body was wracked with spasms. His skin broke out in a sheen of cold sweat. He quickly ran into his bathroom, barely making it before he lost his lunch in the toilet. He sat down on the floor, immersed in old painful memories, and cried. reply

Curiouser and Curiouser [11 Oct 2004|08:06pm] [ mood | sleepy ] Emmy stirred in her sleep. A strange glass bottle that she had never laid eyes on sat propped up on her night table. Aidan had found it amidst the bedclothes and put it there, fearing Emmeline might break it in her sleep. Whatever it was, it had an air of importance about it, and he had made sure it was in sight and safe all at once. She slept fitfully. The sleepiness had come upon her so suddenly that she had no chance to take the Hydrocordone her doctor prescribed her to blot out her dreams. It was a painkiller, really, but it put her into a deep enough sleep that her dreams never tormented her. Sleeping without it became increasingly difficult, though her sheer exhaustion at breaking the link between her and Aidan had put her out well enough. Her dream had a strange quality to it, one she couldn't place. There was an air of familiarity as well, though that in itself she recognized immediately. She found herself in a long low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the ceiling. There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked; and when Emmy had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again. Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key, and Emmy's first thought was that it might belong to one of the doors of the hall; it did not fit a single one but behind a curtain she found another door, a new door. The key fitted the lock perfectly and she found herself peering into another hall, this one dimmer than the first. Emmy smirked to herself. I'm Alice, she thought, glancing down at her pale blue dress and starched white apron. I'm in Wonderland... But where's the white rabbit? The door was much to small for her to fit through; There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it, (`which certainly was not here before,' said Emmy,) and round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words 'DRINK ME'. The bottle was made of thick black glass, impossible to peer through and opening it up, she could see nothing inside, though she heard the subdued slosh of some unknown liquid. I certainly will NOT drink it, she thought to herself. Look at how it went for poor Alice! Still, it drew her. Just a little taste, what harm could it do, really? Emmy awoke in her darkened bedroom, sweating heavily and curled up in a tiny ball on her bed. A black bottle gleamed unnoticed on her night table, with words seared into the wall above, burning out their message continually. Emmy saw neither, only vaguely aware of the thick, oily taste in her mouth. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her strange dreams continued. [[OOC Note: Bolded parts of this post plagiarized from Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, with some minor revisions, out of Chapter One: Down the Rabbit Hole.]] reply

A Question of Leadership [11 Oct 2004|08:58pm] Matthew had gotten as much sleep as he could and was now drawing Jo's truck to a stop outside of William's house. He stepped out of the truck and frowned as the instant he did that, dust caked his boots. He ignored that and simply tugged his tshirt back down around the waistband of his jeans before he wandered over to the front door and knocked. William had been dozing in his chair in the living room. He seemed to be sleeping a lot, with little else to do. His book had slid down the blanket draped over his lap and settled on the floor, and he couldn't reach it. His right ankle was extended and placed on an ottoman. The knock stirred him, and he grabbed the shotgun that was resting next to him. "The door's open. Open it and announce yourself," he shouted at the door. ( Military History ) ( Preparing for Next Time ) Matthew got up from where he was sat before he recovered William's book for him." Can't have a Watcher going without his books now can we?" He offered the book to William before he glanced to the time and sighed." I should go. The day job calls but you have my number and call me if there's anything you want, need and definitely call me about that meeting." "I will, I promise. Thank you, Matthew. If you need anything I can do in my current diminished capacity, ask away." William extended his hand. Matthew took William's hand before squeezing it and shaking." I will, I'll see you around William." With that, Matthew smiled briefly before he wandered back towards the door and back out into the desert air. reply

[11 Oct 2004|09:56pm] Destiny opened the door to the house, depositing her keys on the table next to the door and using her foot to prop the door open. "Will?" she called, coming through the door and having it shut quietly behind her. A sleeping Watcher greeted her. Or would have greeted her if he was awake. His book had fallen sometime during the leg movement portion of REM. She picked it up and placed it on the table next to his armchair. Taking a blanket from the linen closet, Destiny draped it over him and tucked him in. I hate that he's hurt. I hate it. If I knew he would have been hurt, screw patrol, I would have followed him into battle. She closed her eyes, remembering the events of the day of the quake. ( Flashback ) Destiny had carried him in again later. Instead of the friendly half-embrace that they had done at twilight, she had had to have him lean on her shoulder just to move from place to place. Will was beaten badly, and in her haste to get him settled, she had jostled his bruises. He had cried out in pain and Destiny felt guilty. I should have been there, damn it! Will was quiet now. Destiny didn't like leaving him alone, but he had insisted that she patrol. Now she was back and she was going to watch him sleep. Destiny was going to watch her Watcher. The irony didn't escape her. She giggled as she settled onto the couch across from him, opening her latest acquisition from the library. reply

Two of a Kind [11 Oct 2004|10:25pm] Matthew had lost track of time but he had been patrolling the streets of Searchlight for a while now. He had been expecting more action but then again if the rumours he had heard had been true, the locals had other things to be doing right now. He flicked his chosen sword in his hand as he continued to wander the streets. Its sheath lay across his back and the rest of his weaponry comprised of stakes which were placed in pockets and one knife was attached around his leg. His blue eyes sought the darkness in front of him. Part of him wished for something to happen and another part was grateful for the peace. It didn't come too often, especially in Searchlight. And just as Matthew was adjusting to the quiet. He paused midstep and turned his head. There in the alley were three vampires, two were watching as the other was feeding and Matthew sneered slightly at the blood that trickled from that vampire's lips. He bent down and pulled his knife from the sheath around his leg before he flicked the cool black handle in his hand. He drew his hand back and then with a quick snap of his wrist he flung the knife through the air and hit the feeding vampire right in the arm, the creature let out a pained cry and quickly discarded its victim to the side before he turned his attention to the knife in his arm. The other two, one woman and one man turned their heads and rested their eyes on Matthew. The moment they spotted him, their fangs grew in length and they both made a guttural noise from within their chests. Matthew flicked the sword in his hand once more as the two vampires advanced on him. He watched their auras, the black was the predominant colour with the occasional flash of white or grey. Their colour didn't surprise him, they were after all, creatures of the night. Tyler had taken to a new form of hunting whatever evil plagued the streets of Searchlight, so instead of walking along the streets and ally ways, he patrolled silently along the rooftops of buildings that were close enough to jump to. He was crafty and silent, and grateful to feel somewhat seperated from the town, even if it was only by a few feet. Too much had happened recently, and he was concerned that his thoughts were becoming a distraction to him. Ultimately, that would lead to them becoming a hinderance in battle, so he worked hard at pushing them out of his mind. Hearing a cry of pain in the night, Tyler quickly turned, listening for the source of the noise. It had only been a few alleyways to the left. He rushed over, looking down on the scene that played out below. ( So, Are You A Slayer? ) reply

navigation [ viewing | October 11th, 2004 ] [ go | previous day|next day ]