OOC: for The Gathering

[BLACK BART]

This is, as promised, the OOC: & announcement for a Closed Thread for a work of fiction entitled...

The Gathering​

The number of writers in this thread are limited, to give each the benefit to fully expand thier individual characters and sub-plots.

I welcome all who choose to read along, as well as your constructive citriques and comments.

And to those who have joined me in this.

a heartfelt Thank You​

 

[BLACK BART]

This is a link, that will supply a general guideline to the rules and behaviors about the kind of creatures we write about.

The Lunar Planes

It is NOT an absolute, only a guideline, to help each and everyone of us. If we have concerns or question they can and should be asked in this thread...so the main thread can better flow.

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My character is as follows:

Peter Michaels

Born 1812, in a year that still resounds as a period of bloodshed and violence, his parents laid victim, as many were in that time, to die as innocent victims.

Raised by the remaining few of his clan, he bore the mark and weight of a true blood, and with that mark faced in time a destiny he did not choose... nor want .

In human form he stands an inch less than 6 foot, his shoulders wide, his long hair brown and beginning to streak with the first hints of gray. His eyes are spaced wide apart, and always alert, the pale blue of them often turning a woman’s head to make them wonder...."what if?"

Peter is aware of this reaction to him. He considers it, most days, a curse...one that he was born with, and can never change. The reaction is, for most part, due to his being a lukoi, a beast of nature that would send the attracted women into hysterics if they ever saw him in his true form.

At times it amuses him, and he gently breaks the beginning of each young or older woman’s fantasy, telling them with a compassionate face and understanding look that he is indeed.... spoken for.

On the Universities transcript, in human years he has stated he is 32, and looking at him there is nothing to argue with from his appearance, his lithe, almost athletic stride and well shaped, muscular body all support the claim that he is in the prime of his adult life.

A life, if you look for his during the weekday, you'd find he spends in his offices, as a Professor of Human & Animal Psychic, a title that many assume would give Peter a vast amount of free time, but in reality consumes the majority of his days...and nights.

Peter is facing the responsibility of becoming something he never wanted to be, his blood and birth making him the most likely and logical choice for, that being the Ulfric of a growing and disorganized clan.

 

[ARaynes]

Thank you for allowing me to join you in this adventure, Black Bart.


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My character's name is Adira Callan.

To look upon her beauty, one would not know that the person they were looking at was well over three hundred years old. Her eyes could take a man's breath away by just a glance. Her smile could make the heart stop beating.

She had grown in power over the years. Going from a simple birth of a vampire, to now, Queen of the Vampires. Her title she did not take lightly. She had worked hard to get the positoin she now held. Many had come before her, and many had fallen. In her mind, she knew she would reign a very long time.

While the world above meddled in their day jobs, she slept, a dreamless sleep of the dead. Her time was of no consequence during the day, for all her activites began at full dusk.

When the world slept, she became what everyone knew her to be. Madam Adira. Owner of Things That Go Bump theatre house. She managed it, kept the actors happy, and watched the faces of her patrons as they left with a feeling of awe for things that they did not really know existed. Things they thought were seen only in movies.

She goes on, her face a smile, and her eyes hiding the truth. She worries. Things were not always well for her family. Vampires had enemies, enimies that had been quiet far too long. Ones she feared would try to destroy her.

 

[Dark_Jewel]

Character name: Angela Michaels

Angela was born in 1900, the turn of a new century. Her parents lavished attention on her, as she was the only child they would have. Her clan was another story. They thought of her as strong willed, strong of heart and mind.

Her long black hair was straight to her waist. Her eyes, a rare green, sparkled when she laughed her crystal laugh. She could smile and dazzle a room of men and women alike.

That was her job. She was a charmer. There was not a person alive that she could not presuade to do her deeds. That was the way of her life. Manipulation to get the things you wanted done. That way you never got your hands dirty. It was always someone else's fight, someone else's battle.

Soon though, she thought, she would not have to worry. She would be Lupa. No one would challenge her for fear of retribution. She could be so much more than Lupa. If there was not one thing standing in her way. One obstacle that she was going to remove, she just had to activate her plan, then she would be the one in charge. She would have her clan showing their respect for her. Not because of the Ulfric, but because she earned it.

Until then, she waits, playing doating housewife. She could pretend with the best of them. For now, she was respected for his career, his wealth, her home.

 

[Fanged_Death]

Tucker Davis:

Born: Chicago, 1980

His mother a prostitute, his father unknown

Turned out on the streets at the tender age of 13 he spent the next six years along with his twin brother as a mule for one of the local gangs. At the age of 19 they were given the chance to earn thier colors with the task of robbing, and killing, the residents of a house that appeared to be wealthy and defenseless.

Little did Tucker know that the house was the planned meeting site of two larger and much deadlier kind of "gangs" then they had ever run into. If he had known the uproar created when they were discovered would result in the violent failure of the fledgling peace talks between the two opposing factors, as well as his resultant death (and rebirth) Tucker might have changed his mind before breaking in.

Present day finds Tucker serving his new Leader, running seemingly endless and meaningless errands, thinking of his now lost brother and the day when he will rise to power.

 

[wildxfire]

Aaron Miles

Slim hipped & broad shouldered, his blue eyes shine brightly through shoulder length blond hair.

He walks with the grace of an athlete, but can tell you little of his past, the scar on his temple testimony to his near death and loss of memory.

At 5 foot 8 he stands shorter than most and carries an unseen weapon to equalize an opponent should the need arise.

Aaron has a mean, violent streak that remains in check only because of the will of his Master, given the chance he would bathe himself in blood while laughing at the owners pain.