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

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Established February 2010
by Jamie, Gina & Bowie.

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Recent Posts

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Keep's Registry / Re: Cezara Popescu
« Last post by phinneas on Nov 13, 19, 08:49:03 AM »

This application has been reviewed!

Check your private messages for feedback. When you have made the requested changes please reply to this post and let us know you are ready for the next round!

Keep's Registry / Re: Marius Sharpington
« Last post by phinneas on Nov 13, 19, 08:14:31 AM »

This application has been reviewed!

Check your private messages for feedback. When you have made the requested changes please reply to this post and let us know you are ready for the next round!

Keep's Registry / Re: Raelyian Grancrest
« Last post by phinneas on Nov 13, 19, 07:48:50 AM »
Added to the queue.
Dena Nehele / Re: Artemisia Xenopol
« Last post by phinneas on Nov 13, 19, 07:48:26 AM »
1. Tiger Eye - Rose
2. Tiger Eye - Purple Dusk
3. Rose - Purple Dusk
4. Tiger Eye - Summer Sky
5. Tiger Eye - Purple Dusk
Keep's Registry / Re: Shinobu Kuroda
« Last post by phinneas on Nov 13, 19, 07:46:40 AM »
Weighed by Mother Night...

You've risen from the Darkness twice blessed with an uncut Opal Birthright Jewel, and were gifted with a cut Sapphire Jewel at your Offering.


Keep's Registry / Re: Perseus Aquilinus
« Last post by phinneas on Nov 13, 19, 07:45:52 AM »
Sorry, this got overlooked.

Weighed by Mother Night...

You've risen from the Darkness twice blessed with an uncut Purple Dusk Birthright Jewel, and were gifted with a cut Blood Opal Jewel at your Offering.


Dena Nehele / Re: take me out to the black
« Last post by Sibylla Traianus on Nov 13, 19, 06:34:17 AM »
It was, of course, Prince Marius that Sibylla offered a formal bow to first just before he allowed her inside the sitting room. She offered the man easy eye contact paired with a smile that was as light as she could make it seem. She did her best not to startle him as he seemed a reasonable sort of man as best the trained Black Widow could tell from a single and very brief meeting. The mostly Hayllian lady had dressed the way she always did, with a style that was more modest than she would have dared in Hayll but might have been still something in Dena Nehele more suited for a very formal day at court or some kind of gala, but all of Sibylla's clothes were in this form, even when she chose for trousers.

In this case, her gown was all shot through with silver, sheer repeatedly layered silk and the finest spidersilk holding it all together. The layers hid everything that in Dena Nehele people seemed to prefer hidden, and the gown flared outward from the split down the middle while she wore silk trousers in a pale silver to match, as did her three-inch heels, which put the tall, elegant and leggy Black Widow above six feet in height. Her nearly midnight hair curled today in its natural state and fell past her knees. The length of darkness she tugged over one shoulder with an easy motion as she offered her respect toward the Lady Roman's bonded was a moment that she allowed the man to enjoy; she never wanted anyone to feel less or inadequate because she was present.

"Greetings to you, Prince. I am Lady Sibylla Aelius. Thank you for allowing me to visit your Queen and ensuring her safety while doing so. I shall offer her every courtesy she wishes for," the kindness was easily offered. The middling Opal that was very well trained that she could note simply in the way the Warlord Prince stood told her that he would defend his lady entirely.

Patience was the name of the business at present if he chose to inspect her, and opened the square, velvet black box in her fingers for the man to see; a small gift for the Queen which was a bracelet bearing a variety of little charms on it in gold, all of them some kind of playful shape having to do with the woman's Caste and other whimsical, happy notes. She'd only close the box when Prince Marius seemed satisfied. She was polite but lingered an extra moment.

It had been a while since Sibylla had allowed herself to consider the viciousness of a Warlord Prince in full; while true that she sometimes met with Prince Mercer for tea, he was becoming her friend(she thought, at least, friendships were very different in Hayll) and was a wholly different kind of man as both Black Widow and Warlord Prince. It was partly that roiling uncertainty that she was missing something in her life that made her pause. But then it was important to continue on to Lady Sorinna Roman, as she hadn't wanted the Acting Ruling Queen to wait.

"Lady Roman ... it is a pleasure to meet you." She offered a very precise, traditional, and graceful bow as one would give to a Territory Queen and held it for several seconds before returning to stand at her full height. She listened to the request to address the Queen informally and went very still, expression puzzled, at least until she noticed the sheer amount of food the Queen had arranged brought into the room.

"I had not thought if I was hungry at all, Lady Sorinna, but I suppose the truth is more that I could eat at any moment, so I thank you for thinking of me." Sibylla started more formally and slowly tried to unwind the young Queen's name, the accenting very Hayllian even though Sibylla had been somewhat trying to practice the way she spoke. Regardless of her youth, she was still for the present the Territory Queen. She shook her head, golden eyes bright with delight, surprise and still a gentle confusion. She still wasn't used to the manners common in Dena Nehele. But what the Queen asked for, she ought to receive even as it seemed very, very intimate. Not in a sensual way entirely, but in a way that one would walk close for a hug and know there was almost immediate permission at all times.

"Lady Sora." She had good hands and such a light presence of Jewels that drew Sibylla in. The care without expecting anything in return was enough to make the Black Widow want to stay for a while all by itself. She was used to people wanting or demanding something from her, even when they weren't aware of it, while this Rose Queen just seemed to want knowledge. While it was true, Sibylla could have polished off a whole tray of the pastries in a few minutes, she'd attempt to seem a little less ... beastly when other people were near her.

Once Sorinna -- SORA -- let go of her hands, she waited a moment or two before making the beeline she wanted for the food. Sibylla took one of each kind from the first tray which ended up being four items and decided she would start with just those. It was a lot less pressure on her eating or drinking in front of a woman (sometimes she wasn't sure if Prince Mercer was a woman, a male, or some gracefully handsome and beautifully stitched together version of both, so he probably didn't count), or any Queen. Sibylla collected silverware and a few napkins that were very, very nice. She ran her hands over them four times to inspect this to be sure. Her gaze was moving toward the second tray when she cut herself OFF. No need to be monstrous, she thought dryly.

Once the Queen seemed content to sit, Sibylla moved to sit but not before.

"These are lovely," she murmured, and by the time Sibylla did sit, one of the pastries had already vanished, but at one point she had turned away from the Queen while her lips were glossy from the sweet glaze. "People in Hayll." She breathed outward. It was easier to talk with something in the stomach, which Sibylla often, so often forgot. Many people did not realize the Black Widow did not weigh as much as she should due to the lack of familiarity with Hayllian appearances. "Short-lived people often have it hard in Hayll. The Tacean man my mother was descended from eventually returned to his home because of it, leaving behind his child."

A smile brightened Sibylla's face; she nibbled carefully between sentences and while the bites seemed small the food vanished quickly. "As I understand it, my maternal-paternal Hayllian ancestor did not give him a choice," Sibylla cleansed her hands every few bites with both napkin and Craft with little more than a thread of Red. Her expression sobered for a moment; as it could be hard for men that wanted children.

They had to wait for a long time unless some sort of Contract protected their very small rights until Paternity was declared at a Birthright Ceremony, but as she understood Blood Law was this way because a child often needed the mothering sort in a physical way for much longer and men could be so very hair-trigger in their decisions. Female anger for the Blood was deeper, darker and longer-lasting, but also took time to cause. She wondered what such rules would be like for someone that identified as neither, regardless of what their body insisted or didn't. Sibylla waved the philosophical thoughts away in order to answer more of the Queen's question completely.

"There are some that end up enslaved. Others manage to get along if they have some wealth or a talent that the Hayllians are unacustomed to. My people can be very cruel until they are forced to see other viewpoints," she snorted slightly in disapproval of Hayllians with sharper opinions toward different people, and despised slavers, yet, it was the briefest of mentions as Sibylla remained upon the topic that Lady Sora had asked of her.

"I have only met a few partial blooded like you. Most do their very best to blend in, to marry 'up' so that their children are more Hayllian, and if they cannot marry, they simply have children. I think there is much for Hayllians to learn about the Shorter lived. It is not less to be short-lived I think, this just means one must shine brighter for less time. Besides. We all return to the Darkness and are reborn, I think. We are all the same. All beautiful reflections of the Mother." Her smile brightened even more, despite the fact that wide smiles and expressions were typically kept to herself or people she knew very, very well. This Queen and her bright eyes managed to draw her out without needing to ask. "Including Landen."
Dena Nehele / Re: Silences of syzygy in occultation
« Last post by Sorinna Roman on Nov 13, 19, 01:27:10 AM »
Sora knew what it cost Marius to trust her to a male that he did not know personally. He’d worried over her whenever she bonded with a new male. He’d worried even more at the start of her association with Nick. Nick had gained his trust and affection over time, so much so that Marius enjoyed the Red Warlord Prince’s company as much as he enjoyed anyone’s. However, Marius understood that his Queen had the right to associate with any male who showed her the respect due her caste and station. He was possessive and protective of  her, but he was never suffocating.

Prince Musatin’s deep reliance of, and obedience to, Protocol seemed to set Marius enough at ease that he could entrust the Sapphire Jeweled Warlord Prince with Sorinna’s company. Sora believed that the two men would get along well if they ever had a chance to sit and speak. She considered arranging that for the future, just give them a chance to know each other better. Sora would be the Proxy Queen for a few months more; the more comfortable her males were with the rest of the Court, the better.

She and Prince Musatin walked along while Sora considered his comments on how she’d look in two centuries. She tried to imagine looking in the year 394 as she did now. Few of her males or the people she knew would still be around then. The thought used to fill her with pain and dread. It still did, but those feelings were not as sharp. Instead, she wondered how Dena Nehele would function then. Would the age of the Blood be over? Or would they find a way to heal the wounds of the Territory and bring the land back from the brink of ruin. Sora knew which future she preferred.

I don’t know if I have any other short-lived family. When I was a little girl, I remember thinking that my father had always just existed. If he had any other family, he never talked about them.” Sora said, trying to recall anything her father had ever said about the people who raised him. She couldn’t remember anything. He’d told her more about her mother than his own family. Gheorghe Roman never talked about himself. She remembered her father and loved him dearly, but she didn’t really know him.

His advice about the short-lived people in her life resonated and had Sora nodding her head in understanding. She loved the family that she’d collected over the years, the friends and the people she’d come to know. She didn’t want to spend her time counting down until the end of their lives, or the end of hers. She preferred to love and care for them in the here and now.

I do walk barefoot on the land at times. I hear it better when I do, but…” Sora’s sentence trailed off as a hint of shame entered her voice. She looked down and away for a moment, her hold on Prince Musatin’s arm tightening just a bit. She took a deep breath and kicked off her shoes just then, stepping onto the grass without any barrier between herself and the land. The moment her feet touched the grass, Sorinna felt the hungry land beneath her feet make its request.


It needs so much, you know? The land here needs more love and attention that we can provide. There are at maybe ten Queens spread across this Territory. It will take all of us a century of consistent work just to blunt the damage done by centuries of loss. There’s only so much I can give, even if I reach old age, and it shames me that I can’t give more.” Sora said.

She took a deep breath and relegated the cries of the land to her edges of her mind. She could still feel it, feel the hum of the land in her bones, but she would make it through this conversation with Prince Musatin without needing to give again.

When he spoke of his grandfather, his distaste of the man was clear in his tone. What had he done to anger Suleiman so? Sora wanted to know, but felt it too forward to ask. Instead, she focused on the next question he’d asked of her.

Is there something you would like that is just for you alone?

The question made her look up at him. What did he sense in her, to ask such a question? She wasn’t offended, but it was clear that the question surprised her. “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that.” she said softly. Sora had grown used to, and content with the idea of serving others and being served in turn. Yet it was always a give and take in those roles. She served others in order to nurture them and direct them to their best ends. Their needs ruled her and informed her choices and desires about how best to serve them. Rarely, if ever, did she concern herself with the idea that she could take something for herself without giving in return.

You have a story to tell, Sorinna. We all do. You should tell it.

Cezar’s words came to her unbidden as she stood beside Prince Musatin. Her Prince shared her deep love of reading and stories.

I want to write.” she said to him, after a long moment.

I want to write a story. Ten stories. A thousand stories. Poems. Short stories. Maybe even a play.” she said, feeling silly even as she said it. Why would anyone read her writing? What made her interesting enough to say something about...well, anything?

I’d get a set of empty journals with black leather covers and high-quality paper. I’d fill them with all of my ideas and thoughts and half-remembered dreams, then turn them into the kind of stories that my father used to read to me. Or the kind that people enjoy, but never talk about in polite company.” she said.

Just something to break up the endless letters and contracts and anatomy books that I read to keep up with the Court and the people around me. The words would be mine, for me.” she said.

I have no idea if that made any sense.
Dea al Mon / Re: Escorting The Petals Of Flowers
« Last post by Valor Tanithil on Nov 13, 19, 01:24:21 AM »
Valor was the consummate escort, setting an easy pace for both women and keeping an eye out for any difficulties that might pose a challenge on their path. They walked down the streets of Nieste away from the Black Castle and toward Thorn’s townhouse. He was curious at what Charisma had to say and more curious at what Thorn’s reaction might be to it all of it. Both women felt, to him, as though they were dancing around a topic that they had yet to bring to him. He did not know if they wanted to discuss the same topic or a different one. He didn’t know if it was an extension of their discussion in his office. The curiosity ate at him, but the fresh air allowed him to focus his thoughts on getting where they needed to go.

Only twice during the walk did Valor get the sense that something was amiss. Both times, he felt that the three of them were being watched. He cast out with Jewels and felt someone at the edge of his consciousness watching and waiting, but when he reached out for more information, the signature slipped through his fingers like wisps of smoke. Both women saw plainly the annoyance in his mien, though they knew it wasn’t directed at them. When they were within sight of the townhouse, Valor hurried both women inside and asked them to wait behind the webs and security spells that Thorn had women into her home. He took a quarter of an hour to search the area on foot and look for any trace of their pursuer.

Valor was forced to return after that time empty-handed, though he sensed that whoever it was had gotten their jollies and pulled back before they provoked him to the Killing Edge. At that time, no one would be safe from a Warlord Prince with a mind to do harm.

Inside the townhouse, Valor turned to both women and offered them warm smiles. “I apologize for the delay. I don’t think we’ll be bothered here.

So, what’s for lunch? And what’s going on with you two?
” he asked, looking between them as he expected someone to answer.
Dea al Mon / Re: It Can Creep Up Inside You
« Last post by Storm Fenharel on Nov 13, 19, 01:22:45 AM »
Storm had listened to Prince Alerron drone on for fifteen minutes about why he deserved to speak to Allure about his idea for the decommissioning the Sanctums. Storm wasn’t a cruel man, but his duties as First Escort were not always fun (outside of the time he spent with his Queen). He had to listen to foolish men tell him what his Queen needed when they didn’t know the first thing about her. He listened to the unsolicited advice about how she could best rule over Devinos and satisfy the aristos, the Ebon Guard, the Red Cloaks, and other factions who believed themselves owed a say.

The Brood was out there. The Territory Court was filled with beasts. Yet he sat here listening to this self-important male talk about what Allure needed.

Had Rapture not arrived when she did, Storm would have called the meeting to a close with a polite word or two and something diplomatic about how and when Allure would consider his ideas and reach out. Storm would provide the information to his Queen, of course, but she’d already made her decision and placed Rapture and him in charge of doing the necessary work to address the matter.

Prince Alerron took a look at Rapture and thought, mistakenly, that she was a secretary. But she glared at him and the Prince realized suddenly that he was the one intruding despite the fact that he was here first. He started to say something about it, but Storm warned him to choose his words carefully. He did not want to explain to Allure why a prominent aristo male was dead in his office.

Prince Alerron took the hint and left, closing the door behind him.

Storm’s gaze returned to Rapture, who was already watching him. Her scent and demeanor registered to him and his focus on her sharpened. She wasn’t here on a lark. She was hunting him. The tension in shoulders and back spoke of her need. She hadn’t advanced on him yet. She was waiting for something. A moment’s consideration provided the answer.

Why are you still over there, Rapture? Come here.” Storm demanded, pushing his chair away from the desk. He watched her cross the distance between them.

Thank you, by the way. I was seriously debating removing his jaw if he kept talking.” Storm said, watching her.

When she was close enough, Storm pulled her into his lap. She could resist and he’d let her go, but not for long. If she didn’t resist, however, he would draw her close to him so that he could inhale her scent.

Mm. What do you need from me, my sweet Rapture?
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