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Canon: © Anne Bishop
Board's Plot: Blood Rites
Points Scheme: Mother Night
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Established February 2010
by Jamie, Gina & Bowie.


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Recent Posts

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1
Keep's Registry / Re: Vevina O'Clery
« Last post by mu on Today at 01:56:06 AM »
Requesting a Birthright White with a single descent to Yellow, please and thank you!
2
Keep's Registry / Vevina O'Clery
« Last post by Vevina O’Clery on Today at 01:54:17 AM »
The Basics

Character Name: Vevina O’Clery
Nicknames:
Age and Birth Year: 46 (b. 146 AP)
Race: Short Lived (Scelt)
Caste: Black Widow
Birth Territory: Scelt
Home Territory: Scelt

Birthright Jewel:
Offering Jewel: 

Role:
Faction:

Appearance

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Distinguishing Features:

Personality



Personality:

Likes:
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Dislikes:
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Fears:
  • 1
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Craft Strengths:
  • 1
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Craft Weaknesses:
  • 1
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Life Story

Family:
Mother:
Father:
Siblings:

History:



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Player Name: mu
3
Flash Auction / Re: Flash Auction #5 (General Random)
« Last post by WrenStar on Today at 01:40:03 AM »
252
4
Dena Nehele / Re: All I Need is a Day
« Last post by Kale Heartly on Today at 01:37:16 AM »
Kale blinked.

Pietro has always taken care of my skin and hair.

He looked at him, stared for a moment, then raised a hand and touched his own hair, then dragged his fingertips over his cheek, biting his lip around a hopeful little smile. "Someone will do that for you? Even though we're guys?" It never occurred to him that it might be odd for Radu to enjoy or indulge in such treatments. As a young man who enjoyed admiring fine and lovely things, Kale thought the idea of a skin or hair treatment was wonderful. Who wouldn't want to indulge in such pampering if they could? For his skin to be soft and nourished, his hair tended...

Fingers idly tugged at the shaggy strands and he wondered what a good treatment would do for it. He and Q had always cut each other's hair when it got too long. Kale had tried to keep his longer a few times just to see what it would look like but he always ended up cutting it because it was just so much harder to keep clean and nice. Long hair tangled and got dirty and then looked awful if you couldn't keep up with it. Which, on the streets, they couldn't. They were lucky if they had enough soap for it, let alone the special hair soap and conditioner that everyone used here. He'd really enjoyed that since being forced to move to the palace. If there was anything to be grateful for when it came to living here it was the food and the baths.

They entered an absolutely lovely room of rich reds and golds. Kale's eyes widened and he had to turn in a full circle twice before he was able to really absorb the place.

"Wow," he murmured with a small grin. "This place is beautiful! You come here all the time?" He looked over at Radu with a bright grin. In that moment, Kale wasn't thinking about the ugly scar on his face or his loss of senses. He wasn't thinking about Q's suffering or Q and that girl he was so obsessed with. He wasn't thinking about their dad or how they totally got screwed out of so much.

He was just enjoying himself, and thinking about how cool it was that his friend was sharing this with him.
5
Dena Nehele / Re: Clearly a poor listener
« Last post by Ji Yoon Moon on Today at 01:30:10 AM »
He hadn't meant it as a jab, but her mind had already strayed toward the subject. "I'm not a grandma," Ji Yoon objected sharply. Perhaps the chance would present itself again one day - but for now, her life had taken her in another direction, away from the domestic routine she'd wrapped herself in for the better part of six decades. She had the good fortune to still be young by her people's standards, to get to do it all again, to walk as many different paths as she pleased.

She shrugged, expression softening. "I'd spent a whole lifetime there," she said. "Worked in a village. Watched all my neighbors get old and die. It seemed like a good time to leave."

They finally reached their destination, and Ji Yoon followed his gesture to enter ahead of him. She took a seat near the opposite sidewall, setting her shoes on the seat beside her.

"There aren't many healers in the territory at all," she said, skimming a hand over her legs to repel dirt from the soles of her feet. "And none darker than me, as far as I'm aware. I think it's some combination of them being killed and them simply not being born." It was a ridiculous shortage, she thought. Healers weren't like Queens - you could train into the caste with enough practice.

"I'm not joining her court," she added, leaning over to buckle her shoes around her ankles again - one and then the other. "She already has a healer. I'm starting a clinic in Bidea. Someone has to do it."

She bit her lip.

"Why did your sister need a Healer on her payroll?" she asked. She'd meant to ask Toyani tonight, before things went so badly south. "I mean, besides to try to buy her way back into my family's good graces. Which she can't."

That bridge had burned a century ago. The banks had eroded, and the river was wild. There was no place to ford.
6
Kale wasn't exactly sure what to think about what Prince Mercer was telling him. First he said that it wasn't just the bond. That the bond wasn't a love potion - that it couldn't change a person, that it couldn't make make them suddenly just... love them above all others. Like no one else mattered. Not friends or little brothers. No one...

But the way he talked about the Queen...

Kale followed the older man's touches and his gaze, looking at the sleeping Queen with a frown as if trying to puzzle it all out. If the bond only confirmed for him what he already knew to be true - if it only strengthened what was already there... then what did that mean for Q and that girl? Q was fucking over the moon about her and especially with everything that just happened he knew that other than being here with him and making sure he was still alive, Q just wanted to be near her. Perhaps even moreso. There was more than a little bitterness in his heart when he thought about how Quinten would probably open up to that girl, let her help him through this, if she were here. When he wouldn't so much as say a damn word about it to him. His brother. Who'd gone through it all with him.

His mouth tight, Kale looked back down and gently trailed his fingers over the soft little head of he kitten who had now decided to curl up and take a nap.

"So.. if someone... if their Queen becomes so important right away. It's not because of the bond.. it's because they made a choice.." That didn't really sit well with him either. It anything, it was worse - because if it wasn't that girl's fault, it was Quinten who decided... that Kale wasn't enough. That Kale, and their animals, and Radu... that they weren't enough so he needed this Queen and that bond. And he needed to share everything with her. Needed to be with her all the fucking time. Because she was so fucking perfect.

Kale swallowed tightly, his jaw beginning to ache with how tightly he was clenching his teeth.
7
Dhemlan / Re: Invitation to a Fencing Salle
« Last post by Consuella Chavez on Today at 12:28:21 AM »
Locale: 191, Late Autumn, Dhemlan. Salamanca University: Staff Combative Arts Library

As Prince Grevasio’s hands soothed through Consuella’s hair, her body softened. The small smile lingering on his face called forth an answering curve of lips. Despite the intensity and sincerity with which she’d answered him, he made no move to flee. The phrase he used, You know how to thumb at a man's mind better than you think intrigued her; it was both descriptive and unusual. A well read man, then, in addition to everything else.

With careful precision his fingers teased over her collar bones and scalp, as he arranged her clothing and hair. The touch was beautiful; nurturing. No one had told her Warlord Prince’s could be so gentle; she would have far less patience in the future with those who dared to complain of how they fussed. His position, body just lifted over hers, knee between her legs, was desperately (and deliberately) provocative. She didn’t waste his nearness; her hands traced his powerful muscles, she breathed in his scent to learn every nuance. Only the slide of her palm over the taut planes of his body revealed the leashed tension he concealed. He most certainly desired. His offer, not just tonight’s dinner, or a dinner, but dinner every single week for a whole year thrilled through her like a promise. His finger brushed her lips, soft and sweet, earning a smile. And then her reassured her.

Consuella Chavez decided, right then, that the professors responsible for teaching about the Warlord Prince Caste were wrong. If those of that Caste other than the Capitan-and-Professor did not know restraint, it was simply a lack of will. If they were entirely driven by physical passions, it was a failure of those around them to educate them properly. It was not only that Prince Gervasio listened so very well; it was that he was able to think clearly whilst doing so. He did not misconstrue her words; nor did he build them into false representations. Much like herself, he was confident in who and what he was. He had no need to lessen her; nor did he offer a false assent. No, he offered a serious study; one three hour course a week in which to study him. She wasn’t entirely convinced that would be enough, and resolved to spend another such study block doing research about him on her own. She cradled the card he so carefully pressed into her hands. With complete sincerity, she responded, “I’ll study your history and career as well, prior to each engagement. Shall I send you a list of questions to prepare answers for?” Whilst a wistful humor and soft delight hid in her liquid gold eyes, she was deadly, embarrassingly serious. She could blight even the most engaging conversationalist with an ill-timed question; offering to prepare him ahead of time seemed a kindness.

The Warlord Prince (and Tenured Professor, and Captain) kissed her cheek, the gesture oddly reverent, even tender. Knight black hair flowed around her, sending a shiver to her spine and a dart of longing to lodge deeply inside her soul, along with his warm, sensual mental touch, urging her to patience. She gave a wordless, achingly lonely assent, though a soft, bemused laugh followed him as he retreated. He gave her a look of such sensual intent that she lifted her chin in challenge, uncertain he could keep his restraint for a year. She rose gracefully, and settled herself upon his arm with regal ease. He had seduced her, refused her, courted her ... and now despite it all he left her feeling more feminine, desired and cared for than she ever had in her entire life. Discovering just how he had accomplished it all, what secrets his soul held, was fully as enticing as the priceless artifact he’d gifted to her.

[end]



8
Flash Auction / Re: Flash Auction #5 (General Random)
« Last post by Rated Em on Today at 12:18:28 AM »
TWO FIFTY

(250)
9
Pruul / Re: Hiding in Plain Sight
« Last post by Elenor al-Sabbah on Dec 15, 17, 11:48:29 PM »
“Queens are enslaved because people become desperate. I don’t know if it happened before the Purge or not, but I saw plenty of it after, and it was always...It always stuck me as something done out of need, not desire. Queens are drawn to rule, but none of us were being given a real choice about where or when we formed our Courts in those days. I was raised for almost five years to be the Territory Queen of Dena Nehele. I was three when this was decided, never given a choice, never asked if that was what I wanted. The land in Dena Nehele felt like...too hot sand on bare feet, to me. Even if I had somehow grit my teeth and stayed, even if no one had actually tried to put a collar around my neck, I would have been nothing but a tool in the hands of older people. They would have chosen me a Court, would have directed every moment of my life, and I would have been a terrible Queen for the Territory because my heart would not have been in it. And yet, even knowing that...I saw what not having a Queen did to them and others. I saw the disorganized misery of our system of rule upended. Part of me almost understands why someone would prefer a Queen in chains to none at all...and it makes me furious at Witch for leaving us a world where that was the case.” Elenor took a breath, the flash of anger at the end catching her off guard. She emptied her glass, body starting to feel the effects of the liquor as it relaxed. “I think it’s telling to the world we live in that it is more common for a Queen to be the puppet of a man than her own woman. Adramelech used the Mineborn Queen to justify his rule. The True Sabbah assume that it is Fin who drives mine. The Queen of the Bali, it is whispered, is surrounded by men who were hand-picked and trained by her Voice, as well, and from what my advisors tell me, it is her family that surround and push at the Queen of the Tabur. So out of four Clans currently in Pruul, not counting the Mineborn, only the Jinan are free of either real or assumed control over their Queen. That’s not how it should be, and yet it is also one of the best ratios I’ve ever seen.”

Lazily she floated the bottle of brandy down from the bar to her. It was taking the edge off, and that was a good thing, because when fear and temper drove her it was harder to keep from giving the order to just wipe Zhaleh al-Sabbah off the face of Terrille.

“That’s an interesting perspective. I suppose you’re right, though. Having someone to hate is easy. Easier, at least, than having to reexamine your own morality and preconceptions. It’s why I’m surprised any time one of the leaders of the other Clans is willing to even be in the same room with me. But I do hope, for both our sakes, that the work we are and wish to do with the mines may one day make us, if not heroes, at least not the target of riots in the street, although I’m sure it will get worse before it gets better. There is a chance we can keep Aquetus a secret until we know if it works, but if it does, I’m sure the day will come when the rest of Pruul finds out we are dumping vast amounts of water into holes in the ground and even though the water started out as undrinkable, I doubt that will color their opinions. Like you said, no one likes to believe in good things.” She let out a sigh. “I guess that’s what we get for being the Raejan Slaver and the Queen of Monsters.”

She returned the smile he gave her, wondering if she had ever seen that expression cross his face at a time when it seemed honest instead of just part of the show. “Thank you, both for your forgiveness and for being far better of a man than I assumed.”

That smile turned into a laugh, bright and clear, as he nearly spat out his wine at her offer of help. “Perhaps not every day then, but don’t be surprised if it happens from time to time. As for my males, they can be jealous all they want. Had I grown up here I would have had friends and family aplenty to divide my time among, but I don’t. My Court gets the majority of my attention, with the exception of what little time I spend with Judiah, by brother and you..Lucky too, I suppose, considering how often we seem to run into each other or he decided to swoop into my home uninvited. If they can’t share even that much, it’s high time they learn.”

Then she made a face. “Hell’s Fire, no! Besides, your distinctly not my type, considering you neither have breasts or wings.” she added, grinning and amused. She hadn’t even considered sex to be one of the things she might engage in with him, and was happy to know the feeling was mutual. Honestly, if one more person started showing interest she’d probably throw a shoe at them and stomp off….speaking of….she groaned. “Damn, I forgot my shoes in the market.” Then realized how much of a non-sequitur that was to the topic at hand and decided...not to explain it. Let him figure that one out.

“Well, since we are stuck here for awhile…” She stood up, steadying herself on the wall as her vision swam just a little, and sat down opposite him at the desk, calling in a battered deck of cards. “We may as well pass the time having fun.”
10
Pruul / Re: Hiding in Plain Sight
« Last post by Izîl Jofari on Dec 15, 17, 11:45:33 PM »
“The sin of enslaving a Queen is deep. To claim that there is a price for one is…” He pressed his lips together and decided not to comment. “I do not understand what system they use to price them considering their role amongst the Blood. It is too many and too valuable. Besides, I never understood why one would wish to enslave someone who by nature calls the masses to them.” It is one of two castes he was truly confused on. The other were Black Widows. They could simply pour you tea and kill you. Why would a master ever want that risk for a slave? Even the reputation wouldn’t be worth it in his opinion.

As she spoke of Adramalech and the views of the people of Onn Izil returned to looking out the window. “Adramalech was a fool. He believed that his power resided in his networks and his information. To rule from afar behind wetwork, sweat and tears. His pride was his downfall I suppose though I suppose it is for many.” He shrugged to conclude he had nothing left to remark about Adramalech. He turned back to Elenor and finished his wine.

“I simply believe that the people of Pruul need villains. Considering the life of the desert, the stress and rigor of living here coupled with the mines, slavery, sandworms, even lack of basic food and water they need a scapegoat to pummel, beat, best, what-have-you. Someone they can be victorious against to balm the tribulations of daily life. Since I have been here, in some ways I see more of the Eyriens touch here than they realize.” As she spoke of her distrust of him he shrugged with a smirk. He went to the table to refill his glass, setting the decanter back on the table and returning to his desk chair and sitting to face her once more. “I am used to it.” He said, waving off the apologetic tone. “I have seen many places, lucky for a man like me to say. I can only say that it is telling when philantropy is met with hostility. It is, more often than you may realize.” He took a sip of wine. “Where is the money coming from? Where are you coming from? Raej? This must be some top secret plan to get slaves. No one just gives money away. You want our daughters. You want our homes.” He rolled his hand over and over as if to say ‘and on and on they go’.

“I am a firm believer in  healthy skepticism, Lady Elenor.” He said turning to her with a light smile. “There is nothing wrong with questioning things. Again. You may have been wrong but the decision to be distrusting wasn’t. You don’t know me. We saved a village and the rest of the time when we could have talked you were recovering. Then you vanished. You have no reason to trust me blindly. But that is neither here nor there.” However, like he often does when Elenor is direct with her apologies or thanks he is silent for only a moment. Fighting off the knee-jerk urge to say ‘don’t worry about it’ and make it lose all meaning. “I forgive you.” He finally said.

Of course he would learn to take those words and burn them as Elenor offered to help him ‘learn’ about himself. He almost coughed on his wine. “I would say ‘no’ but I have the distinct feeling you will vanish before anything gets interesting.” He wiped his mouth with his hand to remove the excess wine. “And unfortunately I do not have a laundry list of things to do. Whenever something makes an appearance and the opportunity presents itself I give it a try.” Izil didn’t hunt for things to do to explore. The opportunity presents itself, Mother Night offering him the chance to learn something new. “Unless you plan to show up at my doorstep everyday with something new to try which, while I would be humbled, I am sure would make every single male in your retinue entirely too jealous.” He raised a hand. “And before you ask, no. I am not interested in you to explore anything sexual with you.” A brief image of Elenor naked made him drink a swig of wine as if to clean it out. Ugh. “However if you decide to, I will be willing to try whatever you decide to bring along.”
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