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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.


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Recent Posts

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1
Keep's Registry / Re: Anya Welvert
« Last post by Milo Welvert on Today at 08:20:11 PM »

And I approve
2
Keep's Registry / Re: Minerva Tailor
« Last post by Phedre on Today at 08:16:00 PM »
I'm very late to the party. Deepest apologies. Yes, she is great for DN!
3
Shalador / Re: Out of the flood and into the fire
« Last post by Izîl Jofari on Today at 07:52:25 PM »
He arrived, and he was already drenched. Not even the Winds it seemed could stop the rain. As he suspected, Elenor's description was head on. It was raining far harder here than it was in the other village and it showed. The ground was a sloshy soup rather than a village main road. The torrent made homes look like sponges, some more so than others. The people scrambling merely added the notion of urgency to the situation, going here and there to get what was needed be it from the farm as Elenor explained or friends to evacuate. He eyed the village listening to Elanor continue her explanation. Dire straits indeed.

Then they reached the lake..er...pond..er, flooded river. Izil looked gravely as she spoke of what Craft webs she utilized to maintain the worse of it. The problem made sense to him as far as Craft went. Suppression was far more taxing than re-direction. He reached out with his senses and felt the 'bubbles' she was explained, spherical orbs of webs that sent a brief tingle of warmth to his now drenched and increasingly cold body. Goosebumps emerged on his arms regardless the cool air and cold rain. The next thing to be catalogued into his head was the timeframe: Several hours. Give or take an hour probably, until Elenor was out of power and the bubbles would go unless he took them himself.

He nodded to her in comprehension when she finished. He eyed the other side of the river. Nothing but flooded land that wasn't restricted by her bubbles. "If you have the bubbles for now, the next task at hand should then be to redirect the flooding to the other side of the river. It will take pressure of your spell to give us more time and also keep upstream from flooding. Otherwise it'll flood and just flow back to the village and bypass the webs. Tell me when you are running out of strength and I will take the reigns of the bubbles. " He surveyed the surroundings which did not help anyone. How to re-direct the flood though? He could tap into the depths of his Sapphire and blow the flood away but that would make a new wave of water come in that would crash against Elenor's spell and drain her faster and do nothing. "Stay here and let me know if the water receeds."

Izil had no talent at physical craft, not like combat ready males do. They could do fantastic things that merged the powers of Craft with the physical prowess of the body. Izil couldn't. So when he used a telekinetic spell to hurl himself across the river, as he was NOT going to try to swim across it, nothing about it made him look impressive. It more looked like someone grabbed him by the shirt and flung him across than someone jumping with additional effort.

He did have the grace to land on his feet and sink three inches into wet earth with water up to his shins. If the flood was going to be redirected, it would have to be in this direction. No village to threaten and nothing to damage. He shivered in the cold water and clenched his fist, digging into the mote of power at the center of his Purple Dusk. An intimate feeling washed over him, a warmth only Mother Night offers her devoted children as he touched upon his Birthright's power. If the flood wouldn't go away, he would simply pour it into another river.

He found the banks edge in the water with his feet and water washed around him. He knelt down, now waist deep in the water and continued to concentrate. He focused his Will on the spell, conjuring an image of the reality he wanted into the web he was spinning and then performed a quick calculation. When he felt prepared, he released the web with a rush of power. A psychic bolt almost twice of Izil's torso erupted and shot out with luminous energy. A rancorous sound akin to an avalanche accompanied the eruption as dirt and grass blew into the air, trees cracked and fell from it's path and after about three seconds the spell immediately vanished as the strike withered, dissipated and then reached it's mark.

A five-foot gouge in the earth remained after the blast that trailed straight to a small crater at the blast target. Water immediately rushed over the divet made in the bank into the crevice and knocked Izil off his feet, hit his head which made him dizzy and washed him several yards down the newly created floodstream. He struggled to find his center, breached the surface and grabbed muddy earth to pull himself out of the water. He watched, rubbing the back of his head as the water trailed, pooled into the crater and then began to flood. He then made another using the same technique some distance from the previous. This time with no slipping and head hitting.  He then raced back to see Elanor, about 15 or so minutes after his catapult-jump. "Any Change?" He called, cupped hands to make his voice echo as good as might in the rain. 
4
Dena Nehele / Re: I am speaking of dread and hunger
« Last post by Nova Marzena on Today at 07:52:01 PM »
"They thought I would be smaller," said Nova agreeably, "and taught me accordingly. But you're a little bigger than me, so it worked out. I'll show you some things, before I go." Ugh, the more she walked, the more she limped. This was annoying, and embarrassing, and she leaned a little harder on Jeremiah's arm because of it. It was interesting to know that this Warlord Prince had known her newest male for a long time; she could pick his brain as they waited on the pleasure of the Court Healer.

She let Jeremiah talk. He was rather talkative, which she supposed was alright. She wasn't so much herself, if given her druthers; why talk when she could be doing something more useful? Granted, in the years of her banishment, she'd been deprived of much of what she considered useful. There were no more tariffs to review. No letters of state to send. Nova had always lived with purpose, but now she found herself without much of one. Traveling and selling her Gift was something to occupy these few years in her long lifespan, but it wasn't going to accomplish her goals unless she made it.

Maybe it was time to write a letter to Pruul.

"I'd never do that to him," said Nova, though it lacked the passion she wanted to pour into her voice. "I don't want to take him from his wife. He's not my type, Prince Mercer. I'm just... selfish." It was Fenthick all over again, fuck it. Even her brother wouldn't take the role he deserved at her side. At this rate, her Ebon-Gray would be without purpose because she would never have the support she needed to get everything done. In a way, she envied Riley the support of the males who chose to remain at her side; it was the one trick Nova seemed to have never quite mastered.

She brushed her bangs back. "I'm not a particularly patient person," she said. "I'm a bow hunter. I don't... lure people. You know?"
5
Graphics Claim / Re: Graphics Claims
« Last post by Phedre on Today at 07:29:27 PM »
Code: [Select]
[b]Genesis Rodriguez[/b];; claimed by Phedre, 10/23
Code: [Select]
[b]Isha Blaaker[/b];; claimed by Phedre, 10/23
Code: [Select]
[b]Ivy Levan[/b];;claimed by Phedre, 10/23
Code: [Select]
[b]Nils Kuiper[/b];; claimed by Phedre, 10/23
Code: [Select]
[b]Ryan Guzman[/b];; claimed by Phedre, 10/23
Code: [Select]
[b]Stephen James[/b];; claimed by Phedre, 10/23
Code: [Select]
[b]Stephanie Van den Bergh[/b];; claimed by Phedre, 10/23
6
Points Scheme / Re: (October) Graphics Transactions
« Last post by Phedre on Today at 07:23:28 PM »
Gorgeous thank you!!! <3
7
Keep's Registry / Re: Anya Welvert
« Last post by Reid on Today at 07:21:56 PM »
Approved for mention of my children ouo
8
Points Scheme / Re: (October) Graphics Transactions
« Last post by Dash on Today at 07:20:51 PM »
For Phe



9
Points Scheme / Re: (October) Graphics Transactions
« Last post by Phedre on Today at 07:16:33 PM »
Character Name: Blodwen Lyons
Writer Name: Phedre

Images to use: Discussed with Dash

Graphics Shop Service:
Avatar + Design= 100
Sig + Design=      150
Total =                 250
10
Hayll / Re: A Fish out of Water
« Last post by Tore Ristide on Today at 07:06:18 PM »
The warm drip of blood tickled along the edge of his neck. The deep red didn't show as it seeped into the stitching of his collar, but the saturated navy fabric darkened to black instead. The sting was undeniable, but it was nothing compared to the Hayllian Captain's hunger or rage. Therava's attempt at an insult only garnered an imperious grunt from Tore.

Staring intently down at her, he swaggered forward, hooking fingers in the buttons of his soiled collar. When they didn't release immediately, he simply ripped the stitches loose sending the pearlescent discs skipping across the marble floor. Snapping his neck to the side, Tore pulled his shirt open to the chest, a tiny rivulet of blood taking the path of least of resistance as it slid down his sternum. His broad chest heaved as he neared, looming over her.

Slicking his tongue over his teeth, Tore sneered as he began to shrug out of his jacket. "I don't want to kill you, little fish," he goaded. "You're my prized possession."

He could sense the change in her demeanor, that slow creep of fear, or at least the wisdom to know that she was outmatched and foolish to challenge him further. He would hurt her, he'd proven as much. If there was an ounce of remorse in him for his actions, neither one of them would be able to tell.

Folding his jacket, Tore tossed it at a seat and then descended quickly over Therava. "You're weak," he groaned as he knelt at her side and bent over her, knotting his fist in her dark hair. He pulled her head back until he heard her sweet sounds of protest, and then held her there for his appraisal. He liked her close like this, reveled in the smell of her sweat, her blood, and what he told himself was her fear. Simply having her in hand made him harder than he could recall ever having been before. "I would have hit you harder if I thought you could take it," he mused with a spiteful chuckle.

Slipping a finger beneath the edge of her collar, he tested the fit, tugging the metal while still holding a firm grip in her hair. "It looks so good on you, Slate." Shaking his head, Tore's eyes shone as a wistful sigh passed between grinning lips. "And this..." Removing his fingers, he pressed them over her mouth next, smearing her blood over her lips. Growling, he gripped her chin and pulled her close as he leaned down. The more she fought him, the wider his grin would grow until his tongue split his own lips and lapped at hers. She bucked, but he held her tightly until he curled his tongue back to savor the metallic tartness of the wound he'd given her. "Sublime," he laughed with a daring gaze. Sinking down again, he pressed his mouth against hers and sucked until it hurt.
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