collapse

* Welcome!

* Important Links

* Chat Box

Guest Friendly. No advertising please.

* BR Councils

* COTM and TOTM

* Affliates

Affiliate with Us

Blood Rites RPG

Listed At

RPG Directory Nerd Listings

Our Affiliates

Spiraling
The Games Maelstrom Into The Abyss
Forever Night

* Credits

RSS Feed  Facebook  Tumblr    E-Mail

Canon: © Anne Bishop
Board's Plot: Blood Rites
Points Scheme: Mother Night
Ratio System: Blood Rites

Blood Rites best viewed in Firefox.
Established February 2010
by Jamie, Gina & Bowie.


* Welcome Guests

You are currently viewing our forum as a Guest. While you can see all we do, you can't participate. Please think about joining, we love new players. Click Here for more information.


Recent Posts

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
1
Dhemlan / Re: Finest Wardrobe In Offering
« Last post by Romerio Asturias on Today at 03:17:33 AM »
The Warlord Prince had not felt like smiling, not in any stretch of the consideration of the topic. Then, Mari Calderon entered the room, and it was immediately as if there was nothing else of importance. He felt parched, as if he'd not touched her in weeks, despite that having not at all been true. They'd just spoken the night before, but every time he saw his Queen it was with the wonder of the first time, but the aggression Romerio had felt at the Nuncio Ball faded a little more.

As if the Lady Calderon had reached into his heart, and whispered away the pain that had taken the longest residence of his life. It was hard to look at her, and at once he could not bare to tear his eyes away. He barely managed to restrain the immediate image that came time mind from flashing along their Bond: her, curled in his arms while he slowly rubbed her back, and a little more than that. It was both sobering, while immediately after that thought he buried, her voice, her scent, both the sweetness of the torment in his thoughts ... it made him smile.

It was the smile of a man in love deeper than he'd ever known. Both spiritual, and a bond of the heart more pure even than what he'd felt for the woman Romerio thought once, that he would marry. Instead, he was once more in the office - his office - but he'd be damned if he didn't think about it like it was still his father's space, despite the millennia that had passed since his mother had been Queen of Pirenza. She had given him this. Restored him to the one place he'd believed impossible to hold. Lifted him to what he was worthy of. Like her, he felt that Lady Ysabel had to go, as there was no doubt in Romerio's mind that she'd settle herself to knock Mari from her new seat.

"There you are, wrapping yourself around my heart and senses on but a glimpse," Romerio responded, puzzled and delighted by the sudden tremor he felt. All purity and love as well as a very healthy bit of lust for his lovely Queen. Yes, he had to share her, as all men did. He never forgot for one moment, that was the case. The correct place for a First Escort was to tend the appearance, the wellbeing, the health, and even political face of the Queen. It would have been hard to do with or without a Bond, but with having one, he could anticipate her every move. Whether or not it was work or the pleasure he dreamed they might eventually come to, he liked this place he was. Yet, it was probably wise that she had ordered food, so without more than a minute delay, he moved to Mari, and gently shuffled the woman into a comfortable chair.

Even as he sighed at the Queen's Touch that flowed through him and cooled all of those painful parts that had kept him awake at night, uncertain. It did not mean that he wasn't, but suddenly, he could actually think through all the pain he had bottled up and realised then and there, that he didn't want to hurt. Not as a Warlord Prince, nor as a man with a history. So, before he could discuss their plans for the Province and its politics, the personal needed to be dealt with. Just as much as he ensured that the Lady Calderon tended concerns that stirred her own wrath, it would have been unequal and not wise of him as One-Third of her Triangle, not to ensure that his own mind was not ill at ease.

Those thoughts resulted in the preparation of a plate for them both, placing a mix of things they both liked, moved to his chair, and and tugged Mari down on top of his lap, coaxing her tenderly with a pull of her hand to join him. Even the edge of annoyance Romerio had still felt due to the sheer number of Queens that had visited, stupid, vapid bitches all looking for fucking hand outs right to their over used cunts, washed away under Mari's Touch. It was amazing; for the first time in a week, he suddenly didn't want to hit anyone.

Well, not to maim or kill. A fight just to fight would have been excellent, the Opal Warlord Prince couldn't lie to himself.

Romerio admired the way Mari liked doing things her way, so he had to let her not only see that was fair enough to him, but also, try to meet neatly in the middle. "Cautious, intelligent lady. I hope you have had a good morning. I find myself troubled, but by old guilt. Once, what seems almost a lifetime ago now, we talked of children. You have impressive, wonderful ones. I have no need for any, but there was a time that I did. I saw her again. The woman I would have made my wife. Just as before, she looked at me with such a hollow expression, and the same pain as before, as if, no time at all had passed. While I do not seek to have her in my life, might you send her something kind? To ease the pain of the past, or tell me what to do to help her? I am a very different man than I was, centuries ago. Before I found you," Romerio whispered against Mari's jawline, the baritone of his voice a warm rumble before he turned his head to bury it right at her neck. Proud for about three minutes, because he had managed once more not--

Or not, came the thought as his cockstand lifted against her hip.

"I suppose at least you needn't be jealous at the topic, given my reaction to you," the First Escort commented as if were perfecting fine for him to be asking her advice and with a hit of her, sex became the dominant consideration. "I can point out exactly what Clarissa would wish she could say. Are you ever not hard up for my mother, and could you perhaps not be?" he continued, dry in tone, but amused. At least it still worked. He'd been a little worried that his stress had broken his damned dick.

Good news, sir, your fucking apparatus remains in pristine order.
2
Dena Nehele / Re: Rose sister, never missed her
« Last post by Jolie Dion on Today at 02:28:12 AM »
Jolie’d spent quite a lot of time in the measurably disapproving Tacean’s presence. Far more often than their deal required and scores beyond what either would consider comfortable the Rose Jeweled witch and male Healer shared space. She endured his well-earned disapproval the way another more pious witch might engage in acts of penance. The witch just didn’t really believe that prayer, meditation, or the right combination of those and minor acts of contrition mattered in the long run. When it came to righting wrongs? What mattered was doing everything in your power to undo them and make good on offerings of amends. It was difficult and draining work. That was why Jolie rarely bothered. For years, ignoring her guilt about her dealings with Garen was easy. With the right combination of work, partying, and self-deception there was nothing she couldn’t keep swept under a pretty rug. Then one day it all stopped helping quite as much. Her ability to ignore her actions dwindled to nothing.

Their plan left much to be desired. It was a generous name for the tentative notions passed between Hearth Witch and Healer. They were a day away, or one nice stay at a cozy inn, from Lyoshka taking on a task none in Dena Nehele seemed willing to do. The Pissing Prince was trash tolerated because of his festering hoard of wealth. Given the Territory’s murder-happy Myos if they succeeded they’d be pulling off a task long wished for by many of the nation’s elite too frightened of the fiscal fallout to set a contract on the wealthiest man in the land’s head.

Beneath them, the wheels of the carriage in which they sat, upon a rode not the winds, began to slow their spin. Jolie pulled back the curtain on the cab’s window. Whatever she saw elicited a huff from the Rose Jeweled woman whose stare found Lyoshka’s wearing an expression that promised a deluge of explanation to follow.

Tomorrow’s the day,” she said as if either of them needed reminding. Repetition was a fallback of hers when nervous or when something didn’t seem quite real. In that case, it was both. “But we’re meeting an old friend of mine first. She’s part of the Hourglass here in Dena Nehele and she likes to summer in Chaillot.” As she explained, their coach came to a stop at the modest cottage that was their destination. It was impossible for Jolie, trained as she was by trade to read a person’s bearing, to miss the way the Healer’s eyes focused with patient fury on the ring that bound them in a gambit dangerous as it was insane.

Pride kept her cadence from faltering even as guilt made the ring about her finger feel as if it might burn her like a poker fresh from the fire for all the wickedness that went into its weaving. She remembered well the pain one could send through a body. There were nights she still woke up from nightmares of its awful might, clawing at her throat more than a decade free of a collar’s weight.

The coach’s driver came about to open the door and offered Jolie his hand.  Though Lyoshka knew the ugly truth of her origin, she took it with the casual air of a woman born to such privilege. Looking back over her shoulder as she stepped down Jolie put on the face of a woman determined to at least look lovely though death and ruin loomed on the horizon. “Lady Casimir’s a brilliant hand at weaving the sort of handy webs difficult to find even by those who know what to look for and she’s no friend of our mark. She’s agreed to provide you with a measure of,” Jolie bit her lip searching and finding no pleasant way to say what came next, “a measure of escape from what’s sure to be an ordeal that will leave you changed.” No one left Garen’s house of horrors unscathed. Lyoshka knew as much because Lady Dion spared no detail in making clear to him what life bound to L’Voide would be like.

3
Announcements / Re: Tenured HBC Perk
« Last post by Bowie on Today at 02:25:23 AM »
I understand your reasoning.

This was a kind gesture.

If anyone does deserve special treatment, I can appreciate the recipients.
4
Keep's Registry / Re: Tizoc Marzena
« Last post by Gavin on Today at 01:34:03 AM »
Keeping.
5
Askavi / Re: Drakkar Estaroth
« Last post by Dash on Today at 01:14:58 AM »
Weighed by Mother Night...

Your dark ally has risen from the Darkness twice blessed with an uncut Opal Birthright Jewel, and were gifted with a cut Sapphire Jewel at your Offering.

&

Congratulations!
6
Points Scheme / Re: (December) Points Transactions
« Last post by Dash on Today at 01:14:22 AM »
Character Name: Drakkar Estaroth
Player Name: Gavin

Item Purchased: Adoptable Dark Ally

Points Cost: 0, as I won it in the Auction

Rolled and applied.
7
Points Scheme / Re: (December) Points Transactions
« Last post by Gavin on Today at 01:09:01 AM »
Character Name: Drakkar Estaroth
Player Name: Gavin

Item Purchased: Adoptable Dark Ally

Points Cost: 0, as I won it in the Auction
8
Flash Auction / Re: Flash Auction #4 (General Random)
« Last post by Phedre on Today at 12:54:38 AM »
113
9
Nharkava / Re: O Fortuna, Velut Luna, Statu Variabilis
« Last post by Hjordis Nurmi on Today at 12:41:38 AM »
Locale: 192, Spring, Nharkava. Orissa; Territory Court Private Landing Pad; Palace Tour.

Be no burden, be polite;
Say goodbye, and say hello.
Wait your turn, sit upright.
Go to bed now, sweet dream ...
Find the kind heart, rest your feet and soul.
May your kind heart find the land of gold ...

Lady Nurmi had not arrived within the Nharkavan borders unprepared. Unlike any that could have been sent by Lady Elisif to watch the Lady Sydän's court and serve as High Priestess, Hjordis was not only a scholar and an author committed to her privacy, though had managed to gain a considerable following where she had least expected it - the Light Jewelled of Glacia, even if it was kept explicitly quiet by them. The reasoning? As a Dark Jewelled Priestess, she had never written that those without Jewels at all, or even Landen, or the Light Jewelled, were inferior. The version of the Dark Religion that she followed and believed in fervently did not exclude, cause harm, nor hate, all while taking a grave care and gracefulness in fighting the Silent War at its roots. Recent efforts in the last year had seen a book for children published, offering delight, mystery, and wonder in learning how to use their Birthright Jewels for the very first time, parental love, and protection of a view of Mother Night that was carefully neutral.

Why did impure darkness occur in souls?


Lady Nurmi's Appearance
Free will. Choice.

Because people chose to stray from Protocol and adoration of life itself. In fact, she might have been the very last choice as High Priestess, as more than that, she did not believe the Glacians belonged here as anything but guests permitted by the Nharkavan people. The fair skinned woman had taken care to hone Skin Tight Sapphire Sun Shields of her own to keep the sun from destroying her skin; more proof that this place had not been for them to take. Yet, she did very much enjoy the array of flowers, delightful birds, and absolutely ethereal beauty. Cerulean blue eyes took in every bit of colour in the way an innocent child might, and though Hjordis was almost never given to emotional or passionate display in public, in the moment that Prince Haakon's Red Shield exposed her to the air, the heavy weight of it, and the way steam rose away from them, her laugh was soft, touched with a rich darkness of her middling soprano voice.


Lady Nurmi's Wardrobe Choice
Her attire as well, was both reasonably Glacian, but only in its colour. The weight, pattern, and appearance was somewhere in the middle of what she might wear at home, and what the common dress of one living in the extraordinary Territory Court Palace at Orissa. Soft golds, and somewhat vibrant, paired with a cream and gold hat that held Air and Skin Cooling Craft so that she wouldn't overheat and grow faint from the humidity. Hjordis did not want to embarrass herself, or be viewed as a mockery, untutored, or uneducated as to the people here. Thus, everything she watched, she kept any potential immature, or ignorant commentary to herself. There would be time enough to repair any misconceptions, but silence was the best path, Lady Nurmi believed, to gain trust.

Eventually, Hjordis imagined that she would adjust, but for now, she needed to learn how that would come to pass. Though she had of course, not cut her hair, and never, ever would, most of it was either piled with craft beneath the beautiful hat, or coiled with care at the nape of her neck, allowing the shorter front to frame her face. Unlike many, Hjordis did not keep her Jewels on display in an obvious fashion, though there were hints of Sapphire threads in her dress. She would observe the tendencies of Nharkavans and then ask what was best, in that regard, and many others. Not a Saree, for she was not Nharkavan and her choice of attire had not been made in the confines of the culture here.

Not would she pretend to belong even while choosing to be respectful. The Sapphire Priestess very much understood that Glacian presence here was only just settled upon an unpleasant, near to explode war. So her goals were that of making sure that the spiritual sense of the people was not obliterated by Elisif's stupid crusade against people and a place she didn't belong. Hjordis had a list of items that she would eventually want to address, but for the present, she kept them to herself other than having allowed Prince Haakon to review her ideas: inclusion of Nharkavan Prayer Rites, with Extremely Limited Introduction of Glacian ideas channeled through an appropriate, Nharkavan viewpoint.

She'd want to have a Priestess from here, that lived here, that Orissa in particular was their home so that she could learn, and take care to not offer offense, but also, the last thing Hjordis wanted was for her new Court to end up just as blown up as the last one. The thought was on in which she very, very much hated her people. Her grip on Haakon's arm grew hard to the touch, and for a moment, the Lady Nurmi trembled, even as she recognised that even her outrage on behalf of the people here in an emotional sense, was not correct. While closing her eyes and easing the tension between her shoulders, she looked up at her elder cousin and immediately formed a Sapphire Aural Shield.

"We do not belong here. Not at all." Her voice was very soft, too soft. "Seeing this, does not make me wish to go home, Haakon, not ever. Which is the most dangerous thing of all. It is beautiful, but not ours. But I am pleased to learn it, and try to help as best I can. You have the Court Contract I've signed, yes, and made sure to retroactively date it, so that at least legally, by Blood Law, your Queen is safe?"

Very unlike the expression that was terribly guarded that she usually held, there was a vibrancy that took place, almost as if rather than only in metaphor, Hjordis had stepped out of a world of grey and into one of passionate colours. "None of my books have prepared me for this, and even though I expected that fact very clearly, it is overwhelming, just a little. I do not want them to hate me, even though standing upon this pad, they all should. It does not matter where my heart lies. But the hope here, it sizzles along the skin. Can you feel it? It is like this entire sky and land are like our Prayer Caverns." Gently, she toyed with the Prayer Book chained to her belt with gold now, and would not help her in anyway conducting rites in this place - except for those others that were Glacian like herself. At least learning had always been quite the strong suit.
10
Flash Auction / Re: Flash Auction #4 (General Random)
« Last post by Rated Em on Today at 12:30:09 AM »
105
Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

 

anything