Scarlet Hell Manor [OPEN]

[Corporal Bunny]

[NOTE: The description of the Manor is not up yet. Stay tuned for updates. For now you may RP outside of those boundaries. Setting up the characters in the area and providing us with a peek on how you found yourself in the area. It's Evening, and it's Winter. A foot of snow lay in the given area. The surroundings are rural, sparse woods and open fields until over a small hill the Manor can be seen.]

The Scarlet Hell Manor​

Listen to the whispers that float upon the winds, caressing softly the dead. Hear the whispers- are you listening to the song sung by the mute?

Her voice silent, sooths sweetly in deafening octaves, calling and weaving you to the land of blood.

A siren captivating you while still she lingers captive herself.

She's crying out in silence while the heartbeat of the land races blood through vines, stones and mirrors.

There she stands, upon lands bathed in blood- sinking into the moisture of loves and enemies gone past. Time enriched in immortal blood bound to hell on Earth.

Scarlet is your sight, silence in her voice as she tells you her tail with a feeble smile, waning behind tired eyes.​

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Lit by candles she beckons you past Hellâ??s threshold into the prison she is lost to, an attentive bow of the head. Are you the savior of hell, or will your blood bring a flood upon these lands? Bring that which is not stained by blood and cry out in anguish as youâ??re consumed by scarlet. No innocence remains upon lands bathed in blood.

For deep in the ground of hell, well below the stones, caressed by roots and reflected in mirrors lays The Countess of Hell. Immortal in beauty and youth she sleeps, soaking blood from the enriched soil. She bring eternity to the manor. Cruel and restless she needs strength from a mighty being to rise her from depths; her slumber.

Still, the battle to find her is but the battle to find youth and beauty, with her a holy grail of blood is buried. Within well cut rubies and inlaid gold pulses the power of the First of the Damned. She carries the blood of the beginings. She carries the past of mortals tortured and forgotten.

Bathed in blood of the fallen.

While you enter the castle you feel whispers turns to shouts for revenge, blood and justice- and still the she devil purrs with greed of beauty and floats behind reflective surfaces. She is bound to the lands as bark is bound to a tree; natural and everlasting.

Her greed has increased--no longer will mortal blood surfice. Her body hungers for the rich crimson of the immortal.
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Guard your blood upon entering the Scarlet Hell Manor.​

 

[Corporal Bunny]

Re: Scarlet Hell Manor [Under Construction]

Thread Specific Rules​

[1.] IMPORTANT: Follow the Siteâ??s TOS

[2.] AESTHETICS: Create your posts in a pleasing manner.

[3.] LITERACY: Use your knowledge or a knowledgeable resource to construct posts with minimal grammar/spelling mistakes.

[4.] CONFLICT: Accurately depict any and all conflicts. Use logic to give the illusion of realism.

[5.] PLAY: Only control your characterâ??s actions, thoughts and emotions. Recognize that otherâ??s have different play styles. Posts must be at least 2 sentences and should vary in length depending on interaction. Writing 5-9 paragraphs slows down interaction so be mindful of your partnersâ?? rather than your ego. As this is an interactive [open] RP your character comes and goes as you do. If you must depart, so must your character.


UPDATED: If Ducky or I do not like how you are playing your character. For example, you're stupid. We will kill you in the role-play and then remove your profile. We alone are allowed to be gods in this way, and only in this way.


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-- Bunny/Ducky IMMORTAL Law--​

[0] This RP is based on 5 years of development. In other words, you will create your characters based on OUR outlines.

To begin with the Vampire nation is broken down into Ancients, Elders, Vampires, and Fledglings. Ancients are the eldest Fledglingâ??s the youngest, or newest of the Immortals. All Vampires are weak to sun. You go out in daylight, you DIE. If you are stabbed with a stake or decapitated-- YOU DIE. If your arm is cut of, you are DEEPLY wounded and will most likely DIE unless you escape and feed/slumber for a couple of years. You CAN NOT read minds. But, merely sense/smell emotions--such as fear. [If you have a question on what is permitted, PM Ducky or Bunny]

Most vampires are part of a council hierarchy. The Council places social laws upon a vampire. Including but not limited to social interaction with Mortals. Those traveling to a Haven are usually wanders. Wandering Vampires are both hunted by Slayers, and the Council. The council has a wanted list of the most dangerous Elders and Ancients, but usually are not part of our [open] RP unless for background or extra conflict.

[0] In regards to Werewolves, you are often still slaves to Vampires, or at least deeply loyal. You have no laws or restrictions. Our creation of werewolves is based on Beauty rather than horror. The actual transformation simply is a large wolf, eternal and beautiful. Depending on a Wolfâ??s age the transformation can take place on command, but can be rather painful to new pups. Wolves in human form do have more strength than Vampires, and they have the advantage of being able to travel and hunt during any time. Their senses are more acute. Their hearing and their smell is likely better than any Ancient Vampire. Unfortunately, Werewolves do not heal as quickly as Vamps and still suffer from â??mortalâ?? wounds. They are allergic to silver and are subject to blood loss effects unlike a Vampire.

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IMPORTANT NOTE FROM DUCKY:​

â??Okay kids, hereâ??s what I have to say about characters, if you're going to make one, make sure you're proud of it. Do you really have to do what all your friends are doing and make a clichéd, pathetically stereotypical character that has nothing substantial to it?

Come on now, not everyone is orphaned or abused or raped as a child. Not everyone can be the strong, silent type, always angst and brooding. In the human race, there is variety. Happy people, bitter people, morbidly depressed people, and yes, the strong, silent type. But how often do you meet a person more inclined to brooding than laughing?

And more importantly, if you're going to make a broody son of a bish, then god damn it, make them brood! Not fall in love and be all innerly squishy. That's just so infuriating, you have no idea. I know, sometimes it's hard to start out an emotionless character and keep them that way, slowly mannerisms of a REAL person will start to shine through, and that's okay, we understand. But then maybe that should tell you something. You know, something like, DON'T DO IT! You can't handle brooding, emotionless bastards, so avoid them.

Personally, I think the most important thing when you create a personality is to keep it consistent. If your character is a sweetheart, always mothering everyone, then perhaps you should stick with that, instead of having them be sweet but constantly plotting on how to kill everyone. Unless that's what your going for, but then, your character isn't really a sweetheart, it's a two faced diabolical individual, you see? And by consistency I'm not implying that there should never be any variations. I would hope that if the best friend of your character died, your character would mourn or feel an avenging wrath rather than stay all bouncy and happy. Get it? God I hope so.

But also, make sure you're actually interacting with other characters, instead of acting AT them. Carry a conversation once in a while, and yes, that means you actually have to read what other people say. And if someone trips you, then you fall on your face. And by all means, make it an elaborate fall filled with emotional responses. Nothing is more boring than a dry character without any emotional implications. All action and no feeling makes you a damned robot, and unless you're character was factory made, I don't think that's really the impression you want to give. So use the eyes, the hands, the face, the body language of your character and get the feeling across. If you find that you have to state a mood more than once a year, then learn how to role play, kill off the old character, and start from scratch. Everyone around you will much appreciate the absence. Trust me, I know I would.�

Bunny: â??If you need a boost on filling out our character application please refer here: Character Creation "

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PROFILE APPLICATION​

Private Message the following form to Corporal Bunny to Register:

Name:
Age:
*Race:
*Appearance:
Personality:
Background:


((--DO NOT POST THIS IN THE THREAD, PM THE FORM TO CORPORAL BUNNY--))

Use detail:
That which is starred MUST be filled out. Everything else is optional and may be developed throughout the RP. Please keep in mind you may provide a picture for your appearance, HOWEVER it must be linked neatly to another source. If not it will not be allowed and you will be asked to provide a full description in COMPLETE sentences.

 

[Corporal Bunny]

Re: Scarlet Hell Manor [Under Construction]

PROFILES​

Ancients​

Ducky
Name: Galiena Galo
Age: 2108
Race: Elderish/Ancientish
Appearance: Standing at five foot seven, she is a stocky woman, wide shoulders, generous bust, wider hips, good for bearing children so her father had said. Though even with her larger proportions, she is not fat, just shapely. Strong thighs lead to toned calves and petite feet. Her hands are graceful with long fingers adorned with sharp nails.
Her face is round with softer features, pouty lips, delicate nose, properly set forest green eyes. Her hair is a chestnut color with red undertones that falls in waves to the small of her back. She is usually seen wearing a loose fitting white top with an under bust cinching in the fabric. Leather leggings adorn her powerful legs down to a pair of well worn boots.
Personality: A stern woman, she knows well the ways of hospitality, but that doesn't always mean that she's friendly about it. She is self sufficient and a little isolated in her ways. Conversation is not her strong suit, and her temper can be messy when triggered.
Background: A woman of Gaul, she was taught haphazardly in secret the ways of the Druids by her father. She was well learned, the only woman of her village to know the ways of prophecy, reading, rituals. And she was well sought after for her strong temperament and her family's riches. However she had not found a proper match to be married off to, and that predicament was never solved. The Roman's rode on her village and slaughtered the males, selling the women off into slavery and prostitution. Galiena escaped with a few girls of the village, but they were hunted, and each one was picked off as they collapsed until with was just Galiena running for her freedom. Eventually she too dropped in the middle of the forest much like the one she worshiped in. However, this forest was inhabited by a malevolent spirit that sought to feast on her. This nameless monster descended upon her, bit down on her neck, and in her survival instinct, she tore at the beast, kicking, screaming, even biting a large chunk of flesh out of the arm that sought to pin her to the ground. Splattered with blood of this beast, she noticed it's sweet smell and a dizzying thirst. Licking at first at the blood that had slipped on her body, she finally resorted to lapping at the blood pooling from the wound she inflicted on the unconscious vampire. When that was no longer enough, she started tearing at the body with the dagger hidden in her bosom, and occasionally just tearing off larger pieces of flesh with her teeth, devouring the beast that had sought to devour her.
From that point on, she wandered, learning the ways of the vampire on her own, listening to her instincts. Eventually she ended up in a place that claimed to know her soul, and she listened and began her residency of Scarlet Manor. Those that had been in charge upon her arrival no longer exist, being slayed, or having gone mad. And now the Manor was her charge, one she tended to with some hesitancy for the constant whispering of the dead were starting to drive even the strong willed Galiena mad.

Elders​

None Applied...

Vampires​

Private Puppy
Name: Lance Christian Craetu
Age: 125
*Race: Vampire
*Appearance: Lance stands an easy six feet tall. Bolstering a lean muscle build and firm skeletal frame. He does not appear as your stereotypical Superman, but rather, more like The Flash. His eyes are a dreary shade of blue/gray, each one going from gray to blue from outside to in. Locks of a vibrant reddish brown hang just to his ears, thick and plentiful, the strands are often trimmed to just barely hide his brow. On his nose, and upper cheeks, few freckles still make their stand against his undeath, though, most have faded since he has been turned.
Personality: As his job requires, Lance often has even less personality than his higher-ups. It has been a long time since he has felt connected to those around him, and as such, he has given up on the last thing that made him weak. Pain, pleasure, fun, boredom, these have been cast aside as things that only get in the way of his work, his life.
Background: Lance was "turned" some time after getting married. He was a young man then, barely twenty, and with a beautiful bride, he was quite ready to take on life. The man was little different from what most men wish to be, he had a steady job, lovely family, which would have soon had new members. He was rising in the ranks of his workplace, and life seemed to have quite a bright future. As most storybooks tell, however, happily ever after is something that doesn't come to everyone. Only six days before the wedding, his wife was taken from him. Screaming and fighting, she was pulled out of sight by many a shaded figure. He could have done absolutely nothing to stop them, for two of the same shaded figures seemed to possess him. He could not move, could not stop them, and could only feel the life being pulled from his love. Or, at least, he believed he had felt it. When he woke, he was not at home, instead, he was in a cell. Locked away and awaiting death, as he suspected. Sore, feeling broken, and lost, the man lost count of the days, as his mind slipped in and out of consciousness. Some time later, he woke to the heavy scent of blood. A body lay in his cell, frightened and shivering. He took the body, and took it's life, draining the creature of blood in but a single night. It has been years since that day. Many years. Like a bad dream, it has been all but forgotten, haunting him in his meditations.

Fledglings​

Misha Hiroki
Name: Roslyn Luette
Age: 24
Race: Vampire (Fledgling)
Appearance: Roslyn is approximately 5â??7â? her skin the same alabaster white as her hair.
Personality: Shy and reserved. She makes few friends and lashes out at those who offend her. Very emotional.
Background: Before she was turned, Roslyn was a self-inflicted outcast. The way she dressed and her already pale skin made people wary of her, but she took it for more than it really was. She lashed out verbally and physically at people who did openly insult her, and they usually came out with either severely bruised egos or faces. She was turned one night just after her twenty-third birthday in a moment of weakness after a night of drinking. She had gone outside with a woman who looked at pale as her and they had started making out in the alley. Next she knew, she was in a hotel room alone with a hand-written letter set on her chest describing her situation and what she now was.

Mortals​

Anjeru
Name: Nevaeh Skye (pronounced Neh-veigh-ah Sky)
Age: 21
Race: Mortal
Appearance: Nevaeh stands at about 5 feet 5 inches, weighing in at 120 pounds. Being of the Irish heritage, the woman is pale-skinned and has bright auburn hair that, in direct light, almost looks orange. Freckles brush cutely across the bridge of her nose and onto her cheeks beneath eyes of emerald color. Her lips are thin, small, but appeal with a soft pink color. Her hair falls in loose curls to the top of her ample c-sized breasts. She is thin but curvey, with small wrists, wide hips, and a shapely behind.
Personality: With a name like Navaeh, as it is Heaven in reverse, people expect her to be open, nice, welcoming of the people that approach her. However, that is usually not the case. The young woman is guarded and cannot trust any other living thing very easily. She is quiet, wary of the people around her.
Navaeh is also an artist.
Background: Born to an Irish family, Navaeh grew up in the country of Ireland, among the lush lands of green. That was until the girl was forcibly taken from her home at the tender age of 13. She was forced to serve a violent master and has scars that she hides from the world; this meaning scars of both the physical and emotional kind. It was because of her master's cruelty that Nevaeh cannot trust easily. It was also why she took to the hobby of being an artist, to escape the every day cruelities she faced. When she turned 18, a guard, who'd fallen in love with her, helped set her free. It cost him his life and Nevaeh has never forgotten that, it haunts her, keeps her from making friends for the fear of causing their destruction. She ended up returning to her master to spare the lives of fellow slaves. It was just a year ago that she was released due to her master's untimely death.

Slayers​

Corporal Bunny
Name: Leonardo Hood (Leon)
Age: 892
Race: Vampire
Appearance: Formidable and intimidating are two words to describe Leon. Though he only stands at a height of 5â??10 his physique appears quite admirable. Strength is etched into each swell of muscle on his body from his stomach to his shoulders. Lean, hard, alabaster sculpt the body of a hunter. Red tattoos swirl over every inch of flesh upon his impressive torso. The red ink fades at his collar bones and hipbones until it appears as if it is only smoke upon his thighs and neck. The elaborate design does well at hiding the many battle wounds upon his body. Often seen wearing a red cloak he adorns himself with leather, weapons strapped to any available space. Leonâ??s angular face is often veiled by his dark blond hair, his light green eyes seeming to glow in contrast to the red that adorns his being. Long bangs wave around his cheekbones as the rest of the shoulder length gold is pulled into a small pony tail. The tresses rest at the nape of his neck in a tangle of curls seeming to accentuate his strong square jaw line.
Personality: Clever and calculating Leon is the best of hunters. His approach to any situation speaks of confidence and assurance. He controls ever aspect of his being, intelligence supporting his cool arrogance. Answering to none Leon roams the land collecting the treasures of his prey.
Background: His history and murderous motivation is unknown.

Werewolves​

Corporal Bunny
Name: Donelda Syth (Elda)
Age: 45
Race: Werewolf
Appearance: Elda stands at a height of 5â??9â?. Her golden skin compliments her unusual yellow eyes. Her heart shaped face appeals to her stubborn nature. Untamed gold-red hair flows to her shoulder blades in glorious waves. Sheâ??s well built in muscle; trim and extremely athletic. Elda's slim figure speaks of her grace and agility.
Personality: The young werewolf is very guarded. Having trouble trusting anyone. Her loyalty lays with herself now that she is separated from her pack. The woman is torn between the call of the wolf and the heart beat of a lady. Her emotions range from solemn to aggressive. She covers fear with aggression; a quiet yet furious eruption of violence.
Background: As she is a guarded creature not much is known, besides that she once part of an extensive pack. She lost her brother during some kind of even, and went searching for him only to find herself

 

[Corporal Bunny]

Re: Scarlet Hell Manor [Under Construction]

The Dead​

None have died yet D:<

 

[Corporal Bunny]

Re: Scarlet Hell Manor [Under Construction]

Manor Description​

It will go here : D

 

[Corporal Bunny]

The night was seemingly peaceful. The soft silver of the moonâ??s glow reflecting off the white of snow. Only a few snowflakes continued to fall, the soft breeze lifting a few from tree limbs. But, there was an upset to the placid scene. A figure cantered through the thigh high snow deposits.

Limber legs clothed in black leather leapt over snow drifts. Heavy black boots caused the figure to plummet further into the cold banks as she struggled forward. She frantically looked towards the tree line, her yellow eyes flickering frantically at each jump of shadows. She turned once more, her green, woolen sweater floating about her form as she picked up a lope once more.

Across the open area she flew, terror causing each muscle to strain and ache with the exertion.

Behind her another figure came into view, calmly striding past the darkness of the woods. His tattered red cloak hid most of his figure as it curled around him, a powerful aurora spiking. Red circled him, a stark contrast to the pureness of the freshly fallen snow. It pooled around his muscular frame, sliding along his body lovingly.

His gate was sure and confident as the woman ahead struggled threw the depths. The Hunter seemed to glide over the terrain, his feet falling lightly through the icy surface. He continued to approach as the woman turned towards him, the green hood falling to her shoulders. His target was identified; Donelda.

Elda turned, her legs spreading into a defensive stance as she faced the predator, checking her balance.

 

[Private Puppy]

Lance stood, vigilant at the Manor gates. His keen eyes watching the surrounding forest for anything that might seem hostile. Inspecting every trunk, every tree and every flake that fell before him. Daring any of them to challenge his guard, the man simply stood. Veiled in a deep blue cloak, the man awaited whatever should come, until, something did. A dog, Deohgee by the looks of it. Lance knew who the dog belonged to, one of the Manor's werewolves. Kneeling slow, he caught the dog's head with a hand, and gently ran his gloved fingers over the fur. Dogs, served as a good messenger, for both lycan and vampire, for strange connections kept the minds tangled, and the Guardian was quick to let the dog slip inside.

A valiant scrape of steel on silver alloy signaled the drawing of his signature weapon. His sword was slung horizontally along his belt-line. Holding the six foot blade easily against him, until he revealed it's sheen. It's body was like a machete / katana hybrid. Wide blade, forged by folding the metal on itself tediously, and incredibly strong for it's metallic make. At the handle, only a thick hook poked, to catch the blade of an enemy's weapon, should it slide down to threaten Lance's fingers.

Off he ran, only a split second behind the sound of his weapon's heralding scrape. Feet pounding the ground silently, as he shot into the night. That long cloak, whipping and dancing behind him, he soon neared the clearing where the werewolf had obviously turned to fight the approaching threat. Donelda, less than a loyal servant of the Manor, yet never the less, it was his duty to protect those who resided there. Seconds trickled away as he closed on the targets, like blood from a dying patient. The opposing figure was a vampire, that much was certain, thus, with a quick hand, he drew a simple flare from his belt. Standard gear for a watchman, a simple device that never failed to catch the attention of their allies. Whipping it's head against the blunt side of his blade, the strange light blinked into existence, burning a signal for help into the night's dark blanket. A flick of the wrist, and the flare flew behind him, quick and true to his throw, it landed between where he now stood, and the manor, yet still outside the gates.

 

[Corporal Bunny]

Donelda stood her ground, panting heavily as her chest strained against the tight confines of her leather tunic and woolen coat. The hunter still approached her, his gate seeming calculated with its slow stride. One strong forearm lurched out as he bent it behind him.

The hunter withdrew a well crafted cross bow, silver and light it was easily folded against his body. But now it clanked against the archer bracer formidably. Not only was the bow for long range but it soon occurred to Donelda that it doubled as a short sword. The front of the crossbow narrowed into a point before extending into a weapon that would make close range fighterâ??s envious. Though, it made the weapon top heavy it allowed the handler versatility.

Donelda froze as he withdrew an arrow knowing her speed wouldnâ??t carry her away, or towards him in time. She was stuck in the open with no cover until the flash lit up the night behind her causing a distraction.

The man paused after he loaded his weapon, his confident stride coming to a stop. The hooded figured turned his head towards the new intruder, his weapon still steady on the wolf. A deep voice dripped through the silence, soothing and thick like honey. â??Turn back, younger..â? was his simple request.

Time hung still as the tension increased between the trio.

 

[Private Puppy]

Lance came to a slow stop, catching his weight on his left foot as it stayed behind, and his right slipped to the front. Only twenty paces from both Donelda and the attacker. The sword swung to his front, slowly angling so it's tip was the vertex of an acute triangle with the ground. A deadly stance, designed to cut off the means of retreat for most opponents. His arms flexed, ready to lop a limb off a the first sign of offense on the red-cloaked man's part. Those dismal blue eyes watched the fingers closest to the crossbow's trigger, waiting to see the trigger be pulled. "I will turn back only if she comes as well." Was his simple reply, stern, demanding, and determined. Mr.Craetu took slow strides towards Donelda, bringing the gap between them to a mere ten feet, before he stopped.

 

[Corporal Bunny]

The 5â??10â? figure smirked, moon light playing off his elevated cheekbones as well as the swell of his red lips. â??Remove yourself from my presence before you are slain by your own kind.â? He warned, slowly and deliberately aiming his weapon towards the other vampire. â??You will regret this night, youngling--if you do not retract your offence.â? His stern voice echoed through the night as a glint of green narrowed from under the heavy red hood.

 

[Private Puppy]

The guardian stood his ground, staring at the other vampire with that yet determined gaze, even while faced with the weapon. His lips pursed, and a quick side-ways glance to the Werewolf beside him let him know he was the only one armed. Hopefully no matter, as werewolves /were/ more physically adept than vampires. "You may kill me, Elder, but that flare is going to be your end if you do. I won't go down with only one bolt, and I assure you, I won't let you reload...even if you can win, my brethren will be here far before our battle has an outcome." Lance had to be right, in honesty, how long could it take for the vampires to see the blazing flare? It didn't matter, he simply had to make sure the two of them didn't die before the reinforcements arrived. A simple task, and hopefully one which was easy enough.

 

[Misha Hiroki]

Roslyn finally found the gates to the manor after months of searching. She had been told of this place by another vampire she had seen at a nightclub. It looked like a nice haven, not too far from civilization, and if other vampires lived here there was surely to be a way to feed reliably. Speaking of which, she was hungry. Having not had any sort of blood intake in about a week, she was left weakened. She leaped over the gate and looked around for anyone near, expanding her awareness to sense the emotions of anyone nearby. She sensed anger, fear, and contempt, but not close enough that it should worry her. She tried the front door handle and found it locked as she assumed she would. She didn't want to break anything to get in, so she stayed there for a while, not really making herself hidden just in case someone came by to let her in.

 

[Corporal Bunny]

The man smirked, his grin betraying dangerous intent as nimble fingers stroked along the trigger of his bow like a familiar lover. â??You do not realize that my age is nothing in comparison to my experience in killing..â? His shoulders relaxed as he titled his head up, evaluating the taller man before his eyes flicked back to Elda.

Ther She-Wolf was slightly hunched, her finger tips brushing the snow as she eyed him. Green eyes flicked back towards the vampire, â??I assure you, even if I do not have time to reload Iâ??m quite versatile.â? With a heavy sigh he tossed his head impatiently, â??LEAVE US! I do not wish to slaughter my own kind, but I will not hesitate to rid the immortal world of ignoranceâ?¦â?

 

[Private Puppy]

The bluff was called. Lance couldn't help but feel a slight ping of distaste for the situation. If it was only he and the elder vampire it wouldn't be so difficult. Protecting was always more troublesome than slaying. He couldn't help but feel bitter. Giving a glance to the female before he returned his gaze to the elder. The young vampire sighed quietly, and nodded. To live and protect others in the future was better than dying to protect one werewolf now. Logic told him. However, pride was telling him differently. Drowning out such feeble emotions, the guardian turned, and in a quite quick flash of silver, the sword he had been wielding was sheathed, and his feet were swiftly taking him not in the direction of the Manor, but farther from it instead. He'd not be followed back to the Manor, if indeed the elder vampire wished to do so.

 

[Corporal Bunny]

Leon smiled as the man began to leave the scene.

Elda straightened, her head jerking to the side as the guardian turned his back on her. A snarl ripped through her throat. If she was going to live through this encounter her animosity would greatly burden the â??guardianâ??. Her heart thundered as she turned back towards the main danger.

Leonâ??s gaze focused back on his target. â??Come now, bitchâ?¦ You canâ??t truly hold a grudge against a smart manâ?¦â? he paused, wickedly adding, â??Then again, you wonâ??t have to-- as youâ??ll be dead. Your corpse wonâ??t hold much when I rip your fur and teeth from your form. Now--â?¦â?

Eldaâ??s eyes shone silver-gold, a sheen of anger coating her eyes as her pupils dilated.

â??--Thatâ??s it, Wolf. Change so I may skin you alive.â?

 

[Private Puppy]

In passing the hunter, Lance made a bold move. Reaching between cloak and belt for yet another flare. This time, he simply broke it's head off inside the holster, and tugged out the now flaring remainder. Quite literally throwing it to the red cloaked vampire, he made sure he followed it closely. Drawing that longsword from it's sheath yet again with a satisfying scrape of metals. Small whetstones in the sheath sharpened and keened the blade as he quickly pulled it to an attack ready position. With his eyes closed, he counted his steps, nearing ten feet to the opponent before the flare touched ground, and became significantly numbed by the fallen snow. The six foot weapon was quick in the hands of such a strong and adept wielder, it swiftly rounded and was pulled hilt-first past it's owner's hips. Extending out an easy four feet from Lance, the blade was in a school-book pierce position, ready to slide into the body of it's victim. "Elder, you claim victory too quickly."

 

[Anjeru]

It was cold outside, had been for awhile, and Nevaeh's skin was beginning to numb. She had lost track of the hours that had passed since she'd left her last place of residence. Her thin, pale, shaking fingers pulled the black cloak tighter around her frame as her booted feet made a path through the snow. Her auburn curls were frosted over, but still fell beautifully around her face and shoulders as she trudged forth.

'There has to be a lodge of some sort around' she thought. A hill was coming up in front of her and Nevaeh's emerald eyes looked at it, filled with dismay. She wasn't sure she had the energy to keep going, much less the drive, but if she were to collapse out here, she was done for. So, with a sigh, the woman began making her way up the hill.

As she came to the peak, her eyes lighted with relief; a mansion! Just in time too! She began a very slow jog forward, as her muscles were aching painfully, but she was eager to reach the establisment in hopes of being able to rest.

 

[Misha Hiroki]

Roslyn heard footsteps in the distance as she waited near the door of the mansion. She could almost see someone now, her aura revealing an emotion she knew but couldn't identify from this distance. She bided her time, waiting for the new arrival to make it to the gate before interaction. She kept her hopes up that it would be a vampire able to let her in, though somehow she still had a feeling that she would be wrong. At least if it was still human she might get a meal out of it.

 

[Lieutenant Ducky]

Tugging on her heavy boots, Galiena's face is twisted into a scowl. Apparently a fresh batch of souls had wandered their way to the manor and there was already confrontations going on. A curvaceous woman, the hostile expression paired with the weaponry she stocked up on seemed surprising. This vampiress was no soft, gentle creature. At least not when it came to such nonsense. A dagger tucked in her cleavage, a sword at her hip, and draping a compound bow over her shoulder, a quiver in her left hand, she strides confidently through the manor that was now pronounced her.

Her redish brown hair is pulled back in a loose and messy braid, shoddily done for the sake of her rush. Busting out the front door, she pays no mind to the mortal lingering there, instead striding past her wordlessly. Her intention was to head off the fight happening in her front lawn if possible. And if not, to take down the aggressors before they could completely disrupt the peace that had fallen on this land. It had taken great effort to calm the spirits that sought to drive her insane, and she would not have some child of the blood make her days miserable for any particular reason.

Strong strides lead her past the gates, eventually coming upon a scene involving a werewolf, an elder of her species and a recently turned vampire. Lips curling up in a smile less than amicably, she takes an aggressive step forward, her impressive aura filling the clearing, as even the falling patterns of the snow flakes alter ever so slightly. "Who dares invoke the violence of Scarlet Hell and it's mistress?" she inquires sweetly enough, though her green eyes were narrowed, finger on the trigger of the loaded crossbow aimed behind her, resting on her shoulder blade.

 

[Corporal Bunny]

Leon stood his ground as Lance propelled towards him. Lifting the crossbow he caught the sword between the space of its bow and shaft. Twisting he averted the direction of the attack slightly. Still suffering a wound as the blade carved past his ribs. But, at least the elder wasnâ??t mortally wounded. With a gruff pant he twisted, attempting to disarm the man until a voice sounded above the violence. Resorting to a swift kick to the manâ??s legs he turned his bow now aimed on the new intruder. His other hand clutched at his wound, blood staining his hand as he reached lower still for another sword less the man come back towards him.

Three certainly was a crowd. With an angry smirk he lowered his bow from the ancient. Forgetting the battle and the sword he gave a deep bow, the crimson cloak sweeping about him. Small droplets of blood spilled onto the fresh snow, â??Milady. I was but trying to rid the lands of troublesome creatures for you. So as to alleviate your burden.â?

At that Elda stiffened, growling, â??You tracked me here when I sought shelter!â?

 

[Private Puppy]

Placing his weight on the foot kept behind him, he shot backwards, sliding the sword from Leon's weapon, and leaping to just ten feet away yet again. Lance's dim eyes moved to the elder, and quickly tossed themselves to the ground. Respectfully averting his gaze, as he whirled the sword's edge back into it's sheath, though he kept a cautious hand on it's hilt. He remained quiet, all but sure about exactly what he could expect of this new much older vampire. Slowly, his form dropped to a single knee, placing that free hand onto the higher leg's midsection. Silence fell over him and him alone it seemed, as the werewolf and his prior opponent spoke on their own behalves, judging from what they said, it seemed this would be an interesting turn of events.

 

[Lieutenant Ducky]

Pleased that both vampires had the sense enough to show proper respect and cease and desist brought a certain relaxed state onto the female. Letting the bow fall to her side, she takes a step forward, green eyes focusing on the presumptuous male elder. Lips curved into a smile that was less a smile than a dangerous grin, she nods at his words. "And I asked you to tend to this creature?" she asks, a particularly wry intonation on her words as yet another step takes her closer to the arrogant elder. "Or perhaps you know better the nature of this manor than I do myself?" she asks, that intonation rising in sharpness, the scolding nature of these questions all the more obvious. Standing in front of him easily, her thin top whipping against her decidedly feminine form in the wind, she could have easily looked like a damsel in distress, but her presence spoke of no such nonsense.

"All manner of beasts are welcome here, not just yourself. It is the typical plight of the male vampire to be on an ego trip and somehow think himself superior. But I assure you, that personality will not put you on my good side. I suggest you apologize profusely to all those who stand before you and make me believe you mean it, or that pretty cape of yours will not be the only red to mar this lovely winter scene," she murmurs with a wicked grin, her eyes daring the younger vampire to tempt her further.

 

[Corporal Bunny]

Elda tossed her head, removing herself from the scene. Tiredly trudging to her shelter to leave the vampires to discuss respect amongst themselves. She gracefully loped away from the situation. Scoffing at the thought that the creatures could even have respect.

Leon followed her path with his eyes, his strong jaw turning upwards. His eyes flicked to the ancient, his head still held high, portraying his confidence and dominance. He rose from his bow, straightening as his gaze again flicked to the guardian who was kneeling.

â??You interfere with my hunt. I do not challenge your rule over a desolated land nor your dead, welcoming heart. If you wish for no blood to be spilt on your front lawn you should not harbor my target, Milady.â? His eyes glazed over in challenge. His stance spread, his muscled thighs flexing under the leather, â??Come Lady, you do not have the pelt that warms my bed so let me pass-- Unless, you wish to warm it another way.â? A sly, flirtatious smirk flicked over his features.

The wound was healing, the droplets of crimson slowing as he curled his hands around hidden weapons. He was skilled, but knew of the disadvantage he was at, being quite younger than the ancient. "If you wish to strike, the blood will not only be mine." Relaxing slightly he peered evenly at her, assessing the situation with calculating flicks of his eyes.

 

[Private Puppy]

The guardian simply sat in silence, lifting his knee just enough to keep it off the cold and moist ground. Eyes on neither of the other vampires as they spoke, and he simply listened. His dull gray eyes wandering over the snow aimlessly, as if plotting the strikes that might have been to come. Each of those others had ranged weapons, while he had none. Of course, lest they both boasted weapons with the power to slay their own kin, the missiles would prove to be of little use. "Feh..animal...You're no better than those you slay..." He mumbled under his breath, hostility wreathing his voice as a furnace would to smelt steel. The grip on his weapon's handle tightened and twisted, he'd have the man's head if it was up to him, however, with a superior in the area, his body was not his to control.

 

[Lieutenant Ducky]

Tossing the bow and quiver off to the side, the snow each landed on softening the collision with the ground. Narrowed eyes flicker over to the male kneeling with a quick laugh before she is upon the arrogant male. A soft smile, almost affectionate graces her delicate features. Licking pale, pink lips, her eyes graze over his form as if interested, but really she was assessing the weapons he might have on him. Reaching out with chilled fingertips, she brushes her nails down his neck, tracing the vague line of his shoulder before her crushing grip wraps around his arm, jerking his hand away from the hidden weapons. Just as quickly as her grip had embraced him, she was pushing him away from her, intent on knocking him off balance and onto his ass.

"The vampire that changed me sought to kill me as a mortal. What makes you think that a mere vampire could kill me now as an aged immortal? If you care to dance, we can do that. But you will not walk away. Abandon your hunt before it costs you your life," she warns, that crazed glint in green eyes as the spirits of the fallen whisper in her ear that the fields were hungry for more blood.