|
Post by Captain Arthur Kirkland on Nov 6, 2012 13:22:29 GMT -5
((Hm...Can I be Ukraine? Well the only problem is, when I RP as her, I don't give her an accent...she just stutters a lot and is kind of annoying XD))
|
|
|
Post by Hipster Prussia on Nov 6, 2012 20:22:37 GMT -5
((Hm...Can I be Ukraine? Well the only problem is, when I RP as her, I don't give her an accent...she just stutters a lot and is kind of annoying XD)) []
|
|
|
Post by Captain Arthur Kirkland on Nov 6, 2012 20:32:03 GMT -5
((Kay~!And unf. Dem boobies))
|
|
|
Post by Hipster Prussia on Nov 17, 2012 14:39:07 GMT -5
[[You niggas need to reply on this boardddddd yoooo D8]]
|
|
|
Post by Hipster Cuba on Nov 17, 2012 17:46:12 GMT -5
[[[LMAO Romano is waiting for Spain otherwise all he's gonna do us piss and moan and cuss and did I mention piss and moan? =P]]]]
|
|
|
Post by Hipster Russia on Nov 25, 2012 2:32:44 GMT -5
The brunet Lithuanian Knight barely twitched as the moment he had been waiting hours for finally arrived-
No, that wasn't right, Toris had waiting far longer than hours, it had been years, so many years of hard work, pain and failure as he dedicated himself to eradicating werewolves, especially one in particular- the Alpha, Ivan Braginski.
And now the werewolf in question was heading his way, in his most vulnerable state just after a full moon. Toris knew the beast would take this path in the forest, he had been watching him, learning from his every movement for years. Finally, now, the Knight felt ready, ready to face his foe head-on.
Which was foolish, he knew for sure, yet killing the animal with his own sword was the only way Toris felt he could truly avenge his people who were still suffering, even now. Years ago, when the werewolf decided to expand his territory, Toris watched in horror as his people were taken by the wolves, many villages destroyed, some forced to work for the beasts, others became wolves against their will. Every village was touched by the werewolves' influence now in one way or another, even if the village itself was left unaware.
It made Toris sick to his stomach. He had barely gotten away, was lucky enough to meet a white-haired Paladin that taught him everything he knew. And now he would use that knowledge to take out Ivan once and for all.
Toris's green eyes hardened in determination as he spotted his target far in the distance, and he dared not move a muscle from his perch in the thick branches of a tree, his silver tipped arrow already poised and ready to fire once the target was in range. The Lithuanian's only protection was his silver chain mail armor and the pouch tied around his neck containing the wolfsbane herb, which at least helped to distort his scent. Yet even that was of little use this morning, his scent already being washed away by the rain that flattened his bangs to his face.
Despite all his careful consideration, he knew the wolf would be quick to find him, so he was left with no other choice then to strike first, maybe gain a slight advantage. He forced his body to remain calm as Ivan ran closer, keeping his heartbeat and breathing as steady as possible as he aimed the arrow directly at the Russian's heart.
He knew it would miss its target, Ivan was too quick for that, but he had hopes it would do some sort of damage, or at least prove a distraction for him to strike.
Because that bastard was going down, even if Toris had to give up his own life in the process.
With his mind firm and resolve strong, the Lithuanian released the arrow.
|
|
|
Post by Loki Laufeyson on Nov 25, 2012 9:09:31 GMT -5
A long while ago, when France was still a man of warm flesh and blood, he experienced something very akin to what he felt now. This rushing, pulsing feeling, of being on the brink of something both wonderful and terrible, falling into the depths of some beauty's eyes until he could neither breathe nor move. Back then, it happened to him on more than one occasion, on a lesser level at least once a fortnight, but every now and again it would happen with such force that he would be verily knocked off his feet. He would find himself weak-kneeded and heady with passions, his mind would cloud, his judgment completely obfuscated, and his heart would tether itself to this new beautiful soul. It was that way just now, with this beautiful hunter cradled in his arms. In fact, it happened now with unprecedented potency. This awe he felt was hardly vampiric-- his blood ran hot through his limbs, and he suddenly felt ridiculously fragile.
That wretched cross was causing him terrible discomfort, so he released the man in his arms, laying him gently on the cool, dew-kissed grass. The canopy above encased them in a bell jar of security. Surely Britain could not see this-- Britain would never know of his treachery. He would make something up about the few newborns he had just killed, and Britain would believe him because he was his favored pawn.
France returned his attentions to lovely man before him. He was asking his identity. Devil. France had gotten himself into a sore spot now! Revealing himself, monster that he was, was inconceivable. A wave of hatred for himself and his kind swept over him. He quietly recoiled away from the man, into the shadows, without answering a while.
The searing dawn was beginning to creep over the horizon. He could feel a painful prickle on the back of his neck.
"I am no one," he said simply. "Et... I dare say zat we will not meet again."
He started away, but his eyes fell upon the man's awful wounds, and France felt himself tugged to the hunter's side again. Mon Dieu! How gorgeous of a specimen he was! In the breaking dawn, his beautiful chain mail glinted and glowed, his lush dark locks tossed wildly in the morning breeze, and those lips... so bruised with the evening's struggle! France wanted nothing more than to...!
He tore a few strips of cloth from his very fashionable tunic, then went to work setting the hunter's wounds. He applied a sweet solution here and there to close any lingering cuts, then peeled away what there was of the man's chain mail to tend to the terrible wound in his side. He wrapped and dressed it in silence, feeling that potent sensation of desire in his heart again.
I must never see this man again. I must never see this man again. I must never. Never. Never....!
The sun was beginning to rise with yawning earnestness. He had to leave.
"Be well. Get away from 'ere, et never return."
sweeping his cloak around him and drawing up the hood, France drew away from the hunter, then, after gazing upon him wistfully in the coming daylight, he found himself no longer able to resist. He alighted upon him again, taking his face in his cool hands, moving so wonderfully close to him that he could feel, smell, almost taste his delicious life-force. He basked in that brave aura a while, then closed the space between them, pressing his trembling, alabaster lips against the unsuspecting paladin's.
What a mistake this was! France felt a painful rush of human feeling enter his heart; this was much more than lust or even adoration. This feeling had not touched him in a long while, and now he felt shattered, like a fragile dam against the onslaught of a hot, rushing river. The man was so warm, so full of life; he could feel himself becoming attached in the most terrible manner.
He tore himself away.
"Be well," he repeated,"be well."
He morning was upon them in truth now, so France absconded into the forest, his cloak whipping madly behind him. He returned to Britain's abode. There, the master was elegantly sipping a goblet of warm blood. France knelt before him, bowing his head and hiding his guilty eyes.
"My lord, I 'ave returned," he said, swallowing hard. "But I am afraid... ze newborns are not well. Zey met an... untimely end at ze 'ands of... one of zhose awful werewolves. I did what I could, most gracious lord. Do forgive moi."
He paused to press a gentle kiss to Britain's cold, elegant hand.
|
|
|
Post by Hipster Cuba on Dec 2, 2012 17:26:15 GMT -5
Watching Antonio go, Lovi was not pleased with his Master's decision to go alone. Sì, you better promise to return you tomato loving bastard, he thought to himself as he watched his Master disappear down the hill through the forest to the abandoned farmhouse. I do not understand why he refuses to take me with him, I am almost a knight, he kicks at the trunk of a tree in frustration, I think I know why that damn bastard still keeps me as his squire, he is afraid I will leave him. Tch! Even my idiota fratello has become a knight before me. he grits his teeth then his head whips up as he hears the screeching of the undead. Merda che sta iniziando. (Shit it is starting).From the hilltop hidden in the trees and large boulders, Lovi was a master at blending in to his surroundings, though he knew this wouldn't help him if any vampires were in the vicinity as they would smell his blood, hear his heartbeat, feel his life force, he shuddered at the thought. Disgusting non morti. He was worried for Antonio, his Master was strong and a superb Paladin and knew his way around a sword and crossbow ma he was a bit of an airhead and Lovi feared that perhaps Antonio may have under estimated these newborns. Merda! I should've gone with him! He had a sudden urge to just run down there, but no, no he cannot disobey his Master's commands, again he grits his teeth in frustration and perks his ears when he hears more screeching and sounds of a fight. Oh Maestro dovrei essere con te, maledetto idiota! (Oh Master I should be with you, you damn idiot!)
He pulls out his spy glass from inside his duster and extends the scope to asses the situation his Master is in with the newborns. It was as he feared. ANTONIO! He nearly yelled out as he jumped up seeing his Master down on the ground with a female nosferatu descended upon him, her fangs clearly upon his neck. He was in a panic, he wanted to run to him, but the command was a command. "You are not experienced enough, It es muy peligroso, wait para me, I will return, lo promesa!" Tch! How the hell are you going to return to me now you FOOL! Lovino looks into the spy glass again a tear falling from his eye, more in frustration and anger than sadness and sees something unusual another vampire, he can tell this one was not a newborn, it had way more skill, more grace, more prominence no this one was a high ranking vampire and it was killing its own?
What the hell is this? Bastardo stay away from my Mas..... He, he is helping Antonio? Che cosa è questo? (What is this?) Lovi can't take anymore of what he is seeing, he can't stay still and watch any longer, he must move and go to his Master, he would take is punishment he no longer cared, Antonio needed him and he didn't trust him in the hands of the avenging vampire even if he was helping his Master. He watched the scene unfold as the graceful man picked up his Master in his arms and whisked him away from the frenzied newborns into the safety of the forest, the morning sun was coming up very quickly and Lovi knew his Master would be alone with terrible wounds, he put his spyglass away and began to run in the direction he saw them go.
He caught the last moments of the intimate kiss between his Master and the vampire and then the graceful and rather beautiful vampire repeat the words be well to his Master and with that he was off. Lovi felt waves of jealously wash over him and he gritted his teeth as he looked at his bastard Master who looked like hell but also like he was in a dream. Stupido amore colpito idiota che era un vampiro. (Stupid love struck idiot that was a vampire.) Lovi walks out from the darkness of the forest and removes the hood of his cloak to kneel beside his Master. He is impressed with the job the vampire had done in dressing his Masters wounds and the healing arts he used they seemed to be working quite well.
He looks into his Masters face. I have the urge to smack you upside your head you idiota! -tears start to fall from his eyes- Next time I go with you! You could have DIED! You, you made a promessa to me, does that mean nothing? -he falls back on his knees clearly pissed and lets out a frustrated sigh crossing his arms over his chest averting his eyes from Antonio then lowers his voice- Master? -sighs again- Can you move? We should leave here, the newborns will want vengeance for their fallen and we need to get your wounds tended too even though your savior did a good job with them so far. -Lovi is worried about his Master's state, not just about his wounds, but also about his Master's state of mind, has he lost him to this mysterious vampire, if so what would this do to him?-
|
|