Forum Thread: Adore: Shades of Black {~M~} - page 1

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Author:   Amano Murokumo
Date:   Jul 11, 08 at 8:21pm (PST)
Subject:   Adore: Shades of Black {~M~}

[- READ -]

There are many, many Role Plays out there that have a 'Mature' rating. Most of these are just for freedom reasons. However, this particular Role Play has a Mature rating for it's theme. Do not read this out of recreation if a Mature rating is not something you would like to see. Thank you.

Arachnid was finding it hard to concentrate on the middle aged man at the alter. His hand was busy teasing a young lady's leg next to him. Within this stone church there were five rows of aged wooden pews. They were glossed with vintage oils, and adorned by various scratches and marks. The man who spoke with a deep, experienced voice from the alter wore a thick black robe. His fingers displayed several rings of gold hues which successfully matched gold trim on his mantle. This man - named Lutious - kept an even expression to match his firm speech. However, this slightly waned when his eyes passed over Arachnid, who himself found his hand more than teasing his lady friend.

Lutious knew greatly of Arachnid's painfully evident obsession and passed it over with a grinning glance. "Love is all around us," he belted to all corners of the small church. "Love is hidden. It's hidden, and can be an ally…or maybe an enemy."

Arachnid's hand was long hidden beneath the ladies skirt. 'How does that feel, Junebug?' Arachnid thought with a visual devious smile.

Lutious continued, "Love is perhaps the most powerful being that we, as humans, know of! We can't even see love! It's quiet until it wants to be shown!"

'Junebug…you love this don't you?' Arachnid couldn't help but smile for his fingers. His own heart was beginning to pound behind a black linen coat. He couldn't imagine how much Junebug's was.

"And why can't we control love? Why? Why, why, WHY, can't we control it? It's a weapon that's against everyone…or with everyone. It decides! Love decides! Love decides how we feel!!"

{~ Later that night at Arachnid's house ~}

It was the longest three seconds Arachnid had ever experienced. The three seconds his lips spent away from Junebug's while pulling her shirt up, off, and onto the carpeted floor. He mused the idea that she shouldn't wear a shirt from then on, thus preventing such a problem, but soon found this thought slain by her tongue. They were redefining the word 'kiss'. If they were going too far, then they were adding sub-meanings. A smile led to a muted chuckle while Junebug worked quickly to pull back Arachnid's jacket. Time blurred after this. There were no words to checkpoint a spot in history, nor were there any subtle moves. 'Remove barriers to a rampant love power'. This was the redundant and energizing thought.

Junebug couldn't help but realize that Arachnid - normally the reclusive and saturnine figure - had a reliable energy. Perhaps it was her black painted nails digging into his sweaty back, or her obvious enjoyment of the repeating motion. Whichever it was, no answer was a negative one. Arachnid was at his most comfortable spirit being inside her. He loved her more than anyone ever had. This meant more than just lust. He loved her as a friend, a human, and he would be there for her until the end.

Author:   Amano Murokumo
Date:   Jul 12, 08 at 12:11am (PST)
Subject:   re: Adore: Shades of Black {~M~}
{~ Following Day ~}

Lutious and Arachnid walked side by side across the Valley of Faith; a vast field East of Reimoorse. Here the sky seemed to kiss the land. Here and only here. Past the limited green and thriving trees, waves of endless red leafed limbs covered mountain sides and surrounded remote lakes. It was almost sundown, and animal noises were revolting against their previously shy appearances.

Lutious was in his robe he wore the previous night when preaching about love. A simple sword rested inside a wooden sheath strapped across his back. With every step, it's shoddy construction announced itself with creaks. "Arachnid…you've found great fascination in sex, haven't you?"

Arachnid grinned, "Heh…you noticed then?" To find a smile across Arachnid's lips was as rare as a twenty year old virgin in Soard.

Lutious shook his head with varying expressions, "It's this…this girl you call June…something," Lutious looked up to the sky, "Bear? Junebear?"

"Junebug," Arachnid corrected. "It's Junebug. Heh."

Lutious looked over to his walking companion. The dark eyeliner and black spiky hair of his friend made him question youth. "And she likes you, I take it?"

"She loves me," Arachnid spat out quickly. With a short laugh, he continued, "She really, really does love me." He found his foot subtly kicking a small stone into a patch of weeds. "More than anyone else, I think."

"This is important for you, isn't it?"

"It is."

"Why so important?"

Arachnid erased any light hearted expression from his face before he spoke, "My mom…well she was a gawd damn bitch. I loved her because she was my mom, but she beat me. Used to make me cry myself to sleep." Another stone - this time more obvious - went sailing from Arachnid's boot. "She would say through tears that she loved me as well, but it was hard to believe, you know? It was just…so confusing. I guess I've been deprived from love. And…I also guess I'm making up for it."

Lutious took a deep breath, "And your father?"

"My father was virtually useless," Arachnid said dimly. "It was…at least I thought as a child…it was because of him that Mom beat me. But, everyone is able to make their own choices. She should have made better ones." A short pause spanned a thoughtful moment, "Can we talk about something else?"


Author:   Amano Murokumo
Date:   Jul 12, 08 at 10:38pm (PST)
Subject:   re: Adore: Shades of Black {~M~}
Arachnid was the type of person who stuck with something if it worked. However, if it was a subtle change that would in turn make things more interesting, he wouldn't mind trying it. This moment was a fair example. Junebug eagerly found herself atop of Arachnid; hidden behind the confines of his bedroom. Her hands clasped his sweaty palms with uncomfortable squeezes. There were brief thresholds of time when a beam of stray lantern light would catch his eyes. In these sort periods of bliss, Junebug became refreshed. It was as if Arachnid was lending her warm blood from his body to make sure she didn't stop.

More time passed, and they were back to the same way they were the night before. Junebug's nails almost seemed to be magnetic to the spot they dug one night prior. "I'll make you forget about all the things you've grown to hate," Arachnid spoke through breathes of air, "We'll be together forever…blind to this piece of shit world." Junebug ate up each word with a wide mouth and closed eyes.

"Yes, Arachnid, yes! We will!" Junebug gasped.

Things tend to go unnoticed when the blood is on vacation from the brain. This means it may just be small details, or a slight change in a ritual. It wasn't until a voice spoke that Arachnid noticed something was different.

"I knew you were an odd guy, but I didn't know you were into necrophilia." a voice almost hissed as if confident behind a wall of shadows.

Before Arachnid had time to collect a thought or pull himself out, his room became illuminated by a raging lantern. Blood fresh from Junebug's neck seeped across his linen sheets and reflected pitifully on Arachnid's eyes. His sweat became cold. His body's previous drive became lost courtesy of what he saw. "Ju--JUNEBUG!!" His hands panicked and launched towards the maroon liquid. It wasn't long before they stumbled upon the source; two iron throwing knifes.

"Come on, ya spider. Get dressed and take your revenge." The disembodied voice was enjoying Arachnid's new display of emotion. "Unless your dick is the only weapon you can use."

Arachnid turned and saw him; the man who just as well may have been the devil; and perhaps he was. It was a tall man with long ruby red hair. Not just any ruby either; it would have to have been the ruby of a king. Perhaps a god himself. Contrasting this was a generally basic black poncho concealing lower clothing. Loosely, a scarf matching that of Junebug's blood sat around the man's neck. His face only beckoned for Arachnid to charge him. And so that's what happened.

Within a short moments time, Arachnid pulled out one of the throwing knifes and leapt from his bed. His muscles, his mind, his heart, his soul, his everything wanted to send this man to hell. He wanted to see flame licked skin hang from his unknown enemies face and fall to a hoard of demons. He wanted to pack salt within every blood wound of this mans body after wrapping barbed wire around in generous amounts. But he was too slow.

{~ A short ways out of Reimoorse ~}

"Are you…ah…awake?"

Arachnid arose from wet grass to see the night time sky above him. 'A dream?'

"So, you are awake."

"A dream? Was it a damn dream!?"

"No," it was Lutious in his usual robe. "It wasn't a dream. They attacked Reimoorse."

"Who the Fu-"

"Adore attacked Reimoorse, and please don't swear."

"Adore attacked our town!? Why the hell did they attack us!?"

"Well they-"


Lutious moved his eyes from Arachnid's face. They trailed slowly over to a newly dug mound of dirt. He was assured Arachnid followed his stare as it was seconds later that tears fell from Arachnid's eyes upon the dirt. His mind must not have noticed thriving fire rising from Reimoorse behind him. Stocks of smoke plumed to the heavens and would shortly blotch out every visible burning star. Obscured screams escaped behind burning houses only to fall deaf on the ears of Arachnid; who would be at Junebug's grave for as long as we wanted.

Author:   Amano Murokumo
Date:   Jul 13, 08 at 5:43pm (PST)
Subject:   re: Adore: Shades of Black {~M~}
"They're meeting us at Plums."

Lutious' sentence struggled to reach the confines of Arachnid's mind whose attention was stolen by his own reflection cast on a pond's ripple-less water. He watched his eyes carefully on the muggy water. His shoulder length black hair contrasted greatly with the pale blue sky above him. Lutious watched with mixed expressions and patience as Arachnid slowly moved his index finger to touch the reflection. A small fish beat him to his intention and hopped slowly above the water level; effectively altering Arachnid's face. 'I see,' he thought dubiously.

"Did you hear me?" Lutious repeated. "I said they're meeting us at Plums."

Arachnid rose to his feet; a pair of black leather boots weighing him down, "I heard you. I was just looking at my reflection…for a bit."

Lutious half grinned, "Yes…I…I know that you were. That's why I-," his grin flipped to a short laugh, "Lets try to get there as soon as possible."

"Yes, we should," Arachnid almost whispered, "because they're waiting for us. So we don't want to be late."

The dark iris' of Lutious' eyes rolled as response to Arachnid, "I'll just follow you. Even though I happen to be twice you own age."

Arachnid ignored the latter part of Lutious' words, but did well in leading their travel to Soard. Over the past several days, both Lutious and Arachnid had begun recruiting mercenaries and drifters alike into a guild they called Geist. After Adore attacked Reimoorse, the guild of Bells was nearly wiped out; the survivors eagerly joining Geist. Their intention was to create a force large enough to kill Adore, and only leave graves in their wake. As of now, the members of Adore had long fled Reimoose, and we increasing their own numbers. Complete control of the land was what they had in mind.

Adore's specialties included well thought out murders, theft of caravans, rape, and other things that left widows praying to the gods. Each member was scene with a poncho of varying types. Some wore simple black linen Paunchus, but the other extreme included eccentric hybrids of jewel tone colors on fine silk. In this land of long forests and obscure trails, it was easy for such a group to exist. This fact alone left most blade trained individuals caring about their own well being instead of others. Arachnid and Lutious sought to bring all these people together for a final blow.

{~ Geist Member Information ~}

Position interested in:

Magic in this land is a lost art. To see anyone willfully cast a spell is simply unheard of. Blades of all types exist, however. The most common item remains a basic sword, although spears, boomerangs, bows, crossbows, flintlock pistols, hammers, axes, throwing knifes, daggers, whips, gun powder bombs, animal horns, claws, metallic imbued gloves, rapiers, steel fans, and staffs shouldn't be ruled out. A crude cornucopia of items.

{~ Geist ~}

Lead: Lutious
Right hand man: Arachnid
Left hand man: Weyland Somer

Spider Lead: Ethwin Quel'mathis
Spider 1: Sylvia Feingold
Spider 2: Matsu Hirayama

Lantern Lead: Cojisto Domka
Lantern 1: Caliste
Lantern 2: Kieta Sa'ixxy

{- Ander's Notes -}

Adore Guild Tree

Grettnia Sage

Leader of Adore: Grettnia Sage
Age: About 35
Grettnia is quite hard to predict. I'll let you have your fun with her.

The Kin

The Kin
The Kin are direct relatives of Grettnia. Two brothers and two sisters. All of which are younger than Grettnia herself. They have comfort say in what goes on in the guild, and generally do as they please.

1. Sarah Sage
Age: 34
Sarah is the quietest sibling. She keeps to herself; rarely giving her input on what happens about the guild. She fights with a basic sword.

2. Save Sage
Age: About 30
Save is also a quiet person. However, when things need to be done, or when in a fight, he'll not back done until the safely of himself, or his allies is solid. He uses a firm wooden staff in fighting.

3. Glenn Sage
Age: 32
Glenn is annoying. I want to kill him myself. But I won't. I'll let you do that. He's brash and has an obsession with killing any traitors or even a 'useless' human. He fights with a decently crafted claymore.

4. Claudia Sage
Age: About 25
A bitch. She's well dressed and proper by all means, however her mind is trained as a careless swit. She sits around and calmly gives sadistic orders to lesser guild members. She only carries a defense pistol. It's small, but it's from the West.

The Cur

The Cur: The Cur are Grettnia's personal bodyguards and mission men. They're skilled in what they do, and will do it at the motion of a hand. They have no ranks and are listed in no particular order.

1. Red
Age: 19
Despite what I wrote above, Red seems to be her favorite. I'm sure you remember him from when he killed Junebug? I don't have to tell you he uses throwing knifes, and is great with them.

2. Shiloh
Age: About 18
I'll like to insert my opinion on Shiloh. He doesn't belong in Adore. He was such a nice boy. However, with a slain family, this is where he ended up. His unique fighting style is with a two and a half foot long boomerang. Even if it's used against you, I'm sure you'll be amazed when you see his skill in action.

3. Alex
Age: 22
Alex is a long trained swordsman. Actually, he uses three. All are six inches length in difference, and so he uses them accordingly. He's a ladykiller, but lacks the personality as a womanizer. Anyway, I'd suggest you stay away from him.

The Hunter and Rabbits

The Hunter: Black
Age: 37
Black leads the Rabbit ranks. He's curious man of aged skill. 'Black' is obviously not his real name, but it's what he goes by. Anyway, he carries a crossbow and whip and knows how to use them.
The Rabbits
The Rabbits are Blacks 'hitman' of sorts. They're an odd bunch with varying skills. If someone new joins Adore, they join as a rabbit. Black has also given them some strange sub-titles, as you'll see.
Black Rabbit: Matsu Rin
Age: 21
Matsu is Alex's best friend. However, Matsu dabbles in womanizing unlike Alex. His cascading raven black hair and his odd choice of clothing enable him to stand out successfully. He plays a banjo which doubles as a blunt melee weapon. Steel reinforcements help this feat along.

Swamp Rabbit: Sasha Phat
Age: 16
Sasha is young and generally useless. It won't be long before Grettnia gives the order to fire her and kill her. For what it's worth, she's slightly trained with a sword.

Scared Rabbit: Kitty Mill
Age: 18
You already know Kitty. No need to write anything.

Rock Rabbit: Mug Colt
Age: 24
Mug happens to be good at an axe. He's strong, yet quick.

Curious Rabbit: Penny
Age: 19
Penny was trained as a thief from childhood. I'm sure she'll be the next 'Cur' after one of them die. She's quick and sneaky, so be careful.

Final Rabbit: Deuce Ten
Age: 20
Deuce is a genuinely good swordsman. Be careful about his personality, though. He's smart when it comes to throwing off the enemy.

Lover Rabbit: Adam Heart
Age: 24
Adam has an immense amount of training with pole arms. He's often seen with a spear standing at ten feet in length.

Blue Sky Rabbit: Gakob Bleu
Age: 14
He's young, but he's deadly. His mother, Blanch Bleu, taught him all around melee skills, but he's often seen with a rapier.

The Guns

The Guns
They call them the 'Guns' - not by their choice of weaponry - but because they're sure to complete whatever task they were sent to do.

Lead Gun: Hazelton Phat
Age: 35
Hazelton is Sasha's father. It's hard to imagine he cares about her, but that's not what this is about. A strange rifle from the West is his blade. I haven't been able to get a good look at it yet, but Hazelton is some how able to fire five shots before reloading. Again, it's from the West, so who knows how things have advanced there.

Gun 1: Kenny Drill
Age: 27
Kenny was given a pistol that holds three bullets at a time. A 'revolver' is what it's called I think. Anyway, his marksmanship is great, and he'll defend the guild until the end.

Gun 2: Monica Haith
Age: 25
Monica excels with pole arms. Her signature is two at once, but she generally uses one.

Gun 3: Sean Weatherbane
Age: 20
Sean is a good ole sword fighter. He's quick even though his blade is long and thick. I'd watch your neck.

Gun 4: Tamarack
Age: 23
Tamarack is what happens when you go from being a thief to a warrior. He carries two short and sharp blades, yet bears the strength of an axe man.

The Shadow Sun
Name: Ethwin Quel'mathis
Sex: Male
Age: Twenty-five
Blade: Ethwin wields a Bowblade. At first glance, it appears to be an ordinary longbow. However, the handle is connected to two curved blades instead of two slender lengths of wood. The ends are adorned with red figureheads of phoenixes, the color matching the leather handle. The handle can be pulled apart, revealing two smaller red figureheads concealed inside. The manaforged bowstring snaps, and the bladelike bow becomes two shortswords.
Appearance: Ethwin, being royalty, usually wears only the finest of clothing, often netherweave or magecloth. However, in battle, he wears the finest of obsidian armor padded with the soft leather of a furbolg.
Experience: Ethwin has just been able to persuade his parents to let him leave the palace. He has not had any adventures yet.
Skills: Ethwin is proficient with swords and bows.
Position: Spider Lead

Name: Sylvia Feingold (much prefers being called 'Sylv')
Age: 19
Sex: Female
Appearance: Slender and decently tall- standing around 5'8 from head to foot. She has a heart-shaped face with dark grey eyes and fair skin. Her hair is light almost golden-brown; and is short- cut to just above her shoulders and roughly styled. Wears a half-sleeved, tight charcoal-gray turtleneck with a darker armored vest with amber-orange trim. Slightly baggy full-length leggings that match the darker grey of the vest and have a single amber-orange ring near the bottoms are worn along with that, and her shoes are sturdy (but well-worn) black boots. Often wears open-fingered, padded black gloves- especially when fighting. A dark, almost black hooded cloak is worn over all of this, and she wears it with the hood up to conceal her face in public. Outwardly, her appearance is not feminine at all until the cloak comes off (which it does rarely)- but even then, she hardly acts ladylike.
Blade: Her main blade is an odd hybrid weapon- custom made for her by a blacksmith acquaintance, and the only one of its kind. It is a bronzed steel, short spear with an oversized leaf-blade and a shaft that tapers to a thicker hilt and blade-base (also curves slightly along the shaft to the hilt, where it curves up again). From the middle to just short of the butt-end of the weapon, it is wrapped in strips of black leather, making it easy to grip- and on the very end, an amber-orange tassel is hung for a tasteful decoration. Though it appears to be only little more than two and a half feet long, it is actually a collapsible spear-halberd, and can be stretched to around five feet long as the straight, segmented shaft can be collapsed into the weapon. It is an effective melee weapon in both its full shaft and collapsed forms, but is too heavy and unbalanced to be thrown like a proper lance when extended. It is kept in a side-sheath that encases only about half of the weapon. She also carries a straight-blade short sword and a curved dagger as side weapons.
Experience: Having grown up in the slums of the outside world, she is familiar with the mechanics of rough street-society and has had several minor adventure-type excursions out of the norm.
Skills: Expert in the unique combat style that fits her main weapon, and is also well enough with short swords that she can hold her own with them. Her skills with a dagger are significantly above par as well. Has an added advantage of natural speed and practiced stealth. Is also quite the good thief.
Position: Spider 1

Aulis Vaara
Name: nameless
Age: Estimated at fifteen or sixteen
Sex: Female
Appearance: Standing at five feet and two inches, she is nearly at the full height she will reach throughout her lifetime. She is not particularly small, nor particularly tall for a female. She has long somewhat curly dark brown hair, reaching about halfway her back and about midway her breasts down the front. Her eyes are a bright sparkling golden green, Her nose is small, making it look lengthy and her lips are thin and nearly the same pale color as her skin.

As a slave, she is not allowed to wear any clothing, leaving her small perky breasts only obstructed by her hair. Her nether regions however, are covered by nothing and are thus frequently a point of focus for the eyes of newly arrived recruits in Adore. One would say this would bother her, but given that she has no choice, she can only do her best to ignore it.

Because she cannot wear any clothes, she is often quite dirty, not allowed to wash herself so very often. Her hair on the other hand, is usually kept clean as her master likes it that way. Her feet and hands are rather rough because of the work she needs to do, but the rest of her seems as smooth as the skin of a new-born baby. How this is accomplished is a mystery to all.
Blade: Not Applicable
Experience: She has served her master since she started showing signs of puberty. She was sold by her former mistress because she didn't need a distraction for her other slaves. Growing females tended to do that to males.
Skills: Complete obedience. She will do anything her master commands her to. She has no hope for freedom and tries to avoid punishment.
Position: Slave

Carpe Omnis
Name: Caliste
Age: ~22 (true age unknown)
Sex: Female
Appearance: A simple girl, Caliste could be easily overlooked in a crowd of beautiful girls. Though not unattractive, she does not carry herself well, choosing to slouch and shrink away rather than hold herself with confidence, and does not take nearly enough time out of her day to spend on herself. Caliste has long blonde hair that is not cut or styled in any particular way, either left to sit in natural curls around her shoulders or pulled back in a simple knot. It should be noted, however, that Caliste's long bangs are pushed in just the right direction to cover two scars on either temple, twin x's of unknown origin that she has made a point not to be seen in the public eye. Her eyes are a mottled hazel, framed by long eyelashes and freckled cheeks.

Caliste wears a simple gray tunic, longsleeved, neither revealing nor concealing any part of her body. The shirt is long, and comes right to the thigh, whereupon a long black skirt takes over to about mid-shin. Caliste also wears serviceable black flats, shoes good for hiking long distances in comfort but not much else.
Blade: Caliste holds a weapon that can be described as strange, at best. It is a retractable knife, the blade about ten inches in length and curved almost in the shape of a crescent moon. It can collapse and fit perfectly inside a wide, rust-colored handle. Caliste bought it at a yard sale thinking it was just a regular pocket knife she could use for protection, but when she took it home and opened it the peculiar shape intrigued her enough to keep it for ornamental purposes.
Experience: While Caliste has no background in fighting, her past has given her a seemingly enhanced 'œfight-or-flight' response. Having spent the main part of her childhood enslaved in, and running away from, a cult, she has learned to think and react in the most dire of situations. This makes her somewhat of a survivalist when it comes to conflict.
Skills: Though perhaps not very physically capable, Caliste is skilled in the mundane healing process. Give her some salves, bandages, and antiseptics and she can work wonders. This has landed her in the axis of the Reimoorse refugee cause; lately, she has leant her skills to her fellow citizens lost of health, home, and heart.
Position: Lantern 1

Warrior of Chains
Name: Weyland Somer
Age: 15
Sex: Male
Appearance: Messy brown hair and messy brown eyes with a messy white tunic and dirty brown leather boots. He's about 5'4" in height and very lean.
Blade: Singular broadsword across his back
Experience: Has the innate ability to swing a sword ferociously. During an Adore raid, crucial nerves in his left arm were severed. Rather than have it amputated, Weyland leaves it to hang numb off his body. He is known to use this to bludgeon.
Skills: No inhibition
Position: Left hand man

Name: Cojisto Domka
Age: 25
Sex: Male
Appearance: Cojisto is a rather dark man, tanned from his many days training outdoors. He is taller than the average man, standing at 6'2" and is 210 lbs of (mostly) muscle. He strikes an intimidating figure as well as he usually wears open vests that show off his abs. Both his hair and eyes are a dark brown color, giving him an even darker look than he already had. He always wears metal chain-mail gloves into unknown situations so he wont hurt his hands.
Blade: At his back, Cojisto has a custom made Claymore. The blade is made out of black steel and is cut into two intertwining pieces that meet up roughly 45" away from the hilt (Note: although he possesses this weapon, he does not use it unless necessary). His primary weapon, as he enjoys using his hands, is a single Yawara (shown in pic) for his left hand. Being right handed, he prefers to keep that hand open. Finally, he has a bag full of Caltrops hanging from his waist for situations that call for them.
Experience: Cojisto was trained in the art of war by his teacher, Daku Rishmur. He turned out to be a quick learner as Daku set up real life combat situations for Cojisto to act out. Although they were only tests, they were absolutely serious and gave him real combat experience; while he knew they were tests, his opponents did not.
Skills: Cojisto has a great mind for combat. Tactics, techniques, "reading" his opponents. He has the skills to pull off just about anything that he would set his mind to in a hostile situation. He is also an honorable fighter, giving any living opponent a chance to defend themselves until their, or his, last breath. He has also taken up the practice of Acupuncture in order to further his knowledge of the body's pressure points.

Position: Lantern Lead

Name: Matsu Hirayama
Age: 29
Sex: Male
Appearance: Matsu stands at an imposing 6'5 with a lean and sinewy figure. The bangs of his long, often disheveled, black hair form a tattered curtain over his cloudy green eyes. Matsu's general attire consists of a worn black trench coat worn over unremarkable leather armor and a white undershirt, a set of black pants and boots as dark and worn as his trench coat. Scars adorn a vast amount of his body, primarily his torso whereas the only scar on his face is jagged cut beginning just above his left eye and stretching to the lower region of his cheek.
Blade: Matsu's weapon(s) consists of a large amount of intricate and interlocking blades that can be combined to form various other weapons. The basic form is a set of six single-sided knives whose four inch long blades form a guard over the handles, and a longer dagger with a six inch blade with no guard. The six knives can be attached and locked along either side of the length of a long, steel base which can in turn be attached to a basic hilt to form a sword totaling thirty inches in length, twenty-four of which form the blade. Finally, rather than a sword, the dagger can be attached to the end of the steel base to form a rudimentary spear. Matsu most typically carries his weapon in sword form on his back with the dagger in a belt. However, there are holsters inside his trench coat to hold all six knives should he be using the spear form or base form.
Experience: Matsu is a psychotic killer who frequently kills whatever is nearby for the hell of it. Because of this, he has often been pursued in the past by bounty hunters and what law enforcement exists alike, but never been captured. Beyond those skirmishes, Matsu has an understanding of the currents of the 'underworld' of the world, given that he is a resident himself.
Skills: Among Matsu's hobbies are refined skills in torture (both physical and mental), avoiding being sighted and hiding, in addition to possessing unnaturally strong instincts to compensate for his underwhelming intelligence.
Position: Spider 2

Name: Kieta (Kee-ay-tah) Sa'ixxy
Age: 20
Sex: Female
Appearance: Chin lenght brown hair, with a green shine in the light, left to swirl around her face. Deep green eyes. 5'9" and built for strenght, with curves that hint at the muscles beneith. She is in no way small, she is tall and while curvy, she doesn't appreciate her appearence. Has a fitted breastplate of steel tinted silvery green, which she wears ontop of a chainmail curiass. Silvery green steel shoulder guards and gauntlets adorn her arms, and her legs are fitted with tight, protective leather leggings and more silver-green steel plated highboots. Sometimes she dawns a thick leather cape, and/or a silver green steel Great Barrel helm. She moves slower than your adverage person because of the extra weight of her armour. When she sleeps, she removes her highboots, breastplate, and curiass, leaving her chest and arms bare and her legs only protected by her leather leggings. However, since she is modest and relitively shy about her own appearence, she covers herself with her cape and sleeps wrapped up inside of it.
Blade: Across her back she carries a greatsword, 4'9" tall, 6" wide blade at the hilt. The blade is the same silver green tempered steel of her armour, and the hilt is made to resemble a tree branch, the pommel a magnolia, painted pink. On her right arm is a sheild, with the coat of a wolf arching beautifully over a silvery pink flower. In a sheith about her waist, a smaller longsword is scabbarded, the twin of its larger sister on her back, pommeled, though, instead with a bushel of lilac, painted purple.
Experience: Living in a large family with a strong, precious bloodline, Kieta had a sheltered life growing up. One of two siblings, she was the eldest, but surprisingly the most well behaived. The younger left home long before Kieta, being rebellious and misbehaived. Kieta stayed for one more year before setting out on her own, her only knowledge of the world being that from the sheltered home she was raised in. Her family tutor taught her swordsmanship, and her armour, swords, and sheild are all family heirlooms. Upon moving out in the world, she discovers the misdoings of Adore, and seeks to twarth them, being filled with the sense and need to do what is right.
Skills: Kieta is an excellent chef, seamstress, and maid. She was taught all the things a nice young lady should know, and is proficient in reading, writing, and aritmatic. She is also the top of her class in swordsmanship, archery, and horsemanship, though other than her sheltered academy she has had very little real life combat experience.
Position: Lantern 2

Broken Alleluia
Name: Emerald (real name is unknown)
Age: By all appearances, she is in her late teens.
Sex: Female
Appearance: Emerald is not a person of large physical structure, but this does not take away from her imperial presence. She is built like a dancer, all bones and sleek limbs; her skin - sprinkled with freckles across her exposed shoulders - like a layer of silk pulled tight over finely crafted muscle. She wears her golden curls piled atop her head, kept in place by a myriad of pins speckled with her namesake gemstone, except for the choice locks which frame her delicate, princess-esque face. Emerald dresses scantly, in an outfit designed for agility and flexibility over coverage. A corset of black scales leaves her stomach and the top curve of her breasts exposed, a matching pair leggings extend to mid-thigh. A long vest of sheer veridian gossamer falls off her shoulders, billowed about her pale form, the hem ruffling at her knees. A pair of greave-like slips made of the same black scales cover her calves and forearms, while her feet remain bare, soles tough from years of disregarding shoes. Emerald wears very little jewelry, a copper bracelet on her ankle, and a golden locket resting between her breasts: an oval shape, with the initials ASN on the outer shell. Her beauty is infamous, her eyes most of all: a pure, perfect green, touched with gold and purple; eyes made for laughing, but always full of hate. The allure of her figure is offset by her icy personality. Never is there a smile, a touch of true laughter, as if the glass if not even half-full, just empty. She is truly a gem: hard and sleek, mysterious and enthralling, yet...cold.
Blade: At first glance, Emerald appears to wield nothing but a sleek silver pistol, holstered to her leg. In truth, there are a multitude of throwing knives, stars, darts, and needles hidden on her person, in secret pouches in her leggings or the lacing on the back of her corset. Even the pins on her hair can serve as weapons. For close combat, hidden in her forearm coverings are two matching steel fans with flare out to be twenty inches in breadth, the ribs of which are coated in a green silk. If all else fails, Emerald relies on seven years of martial arts, though this is hardly needed. However, there is one means of gaining an advantage that she will never take part in: the means of using lust and sex to acquire favors or garner information. This too, is infamous in Adore: the Emerald Princess, as aloof socially as she is in combat.
Experience: Emerald has been a student of the dervish dance since she awoke thirteen years ago in chains, locked up in a dark cell. She was kept there for weeks, nearly starved, struggling to remember her life, her name, until there were no memories before the cell. Only blurs. Scarcely in the threshold of her childhood, and it was over. Eventually, she was visited by a smirking woman, adorned in a black poncho, who gave her two options: service or death. Emerald has been a member of Adore ever since, rising swiftly through the ranks until she was promoted into the Gun ranks.
Skills: She has perfected a style of dervish dancing which is effective from a distance as well as in direct melee: a dance of death, weaving in among the opponent's attacks, deflecting them and using the momentum to spin, kick, and roll in an intricate whirlwind. Her attacks are quick and subtle, until her enemy is stumbling about - a torn tendon here, a missing finger, pressure points peppered with paralyzing needles. Her pistol - with the name 'Judgment' branded on the side - often delivers the killing shot, execution style. She had a reputation for being clever, quick, and above all, merciless.

Author:   Amano Murokumo
Date:   Jul 13, 08 at 5:53pm (PST)
Subject:   re: Adore: Shades of Black {~M~}

Soard: Soard is looked down upon by neighboring cities. Shady trades, and shadier characters live here. Families who are too poor to move away, make a living in old houses, while more and more cultists swarm into old shacks. It's a common fear that eventually Soard will be over run by cultist's and people with other strange religions. The crane which sits high above Soard was a step forward in evolving the cities overall appearance. However, ten years later the crane remains in its stead, and nothing has changed for the better.

Plume: If the city of Soard had a sworn enemy, it would be anyone or anything from Plume. A religion heavy town; Plume is well known for the massive church which lies at its center. However, the well to do people who make home here, often forget that even shady looking people can hold onto faith. This tends to be a common issue with Reimoorse.

Reimoorse: Since it's attack from Adore, Reimoorse has begun to rebuild sluggishly. Most of the residents who did not die, fled, while others are sure Lutious - the towns priest - and his acolyte Arachnid will bring justice to Adore.

Siin: Despite the suggestive name, Siin is actually a basic town. People live, go to work, come home, etc. Nothing much happens here, aside from annual parades. It has been said that 'Adore' began here, but no solid information on this is known.

Raithe: Raithe is the leader in technological advancements throughout Ralesmare. They've recently created guns, which has received all types of criticism. Blacksmiths still reign over the market with a myriad of blade weapons, but its feared this will end within time.

Riot Edge: On one of the most traveled intersections, a small trade village was formed. It includes two Inn's and a selection of shops. It's also common to see food merchants selling new recipes; in attempt to expand into something greater.

Canopie: As people travel on the road, it's easy to completely pass Canopie. Even those looking for it. High in the tall trees of Rift Forest lies to town of Canopie. Only a couple of discreet paths rise to this camouflaged gathering of houses. What really goes on there is usually a mystery. The guild of 'Geist' is homed here.

Rift Forest: Basically just a massive and thick forest. Tall trees are redundantly spread out, while underbrush is every few feet. In darker parts, cults make camps; usually minding their own business.

Parched Plains: Just an expansive desert which eventually leads to the neighboring kingdom.

Floral Plains: Every square foot of Floral Plains is covered with natural flowers. To look at it from a higher spot, one would see rolling hills of multicolored petals for many miles. Serious relationships often lead to a romantic night here, while sexual crimes also find their place. Floral Plains is both loved and hated.

Tul's Swamp: A dark and lowland swamp. The amount of animals which reside here is remarkable, just as the amount of water is.

Riot Gorge: A massive gorge which holds remnants from Tul's Swamp. It's thought that the land here used to be flat, although this isn't certain.

Valley of Faith: Rolling green hills sit to the East of Reimoorse. Dozens of small houses reside here as well. It's one of the few green leafed and decent places in the land.

Author:   Amano Murokumo
Date:   Jul 18, 08 at 6:34pm (PST)
Subject:   re: Adore: Shades of Black {~M~}
A warm flickering fireplace sat at the center of Plums. Various empty wooden chairs were slide up next to it; some evident of being footrests. The time was between lunch and dinner and small amounts of people began to usher in. No one knew if it was the dim lighting that could easily hide an ugly person's face, or the constant aroma of burning cedar, but the same old patrons would always come back to Plums. If they were to die, a new resident would take their favorite place at the bar within the week. This was how things went in the world; although Soard was the most notorious for shallow lives.

Lutious and Arachnid held a spot in one of Plums' corners. A dozen chairs were centered around two large tables, and an empty glass resided by each open sitting place. Green wine bottles with purple liquid accompanied these as well. No one would have to second guess a meeting.

"I see you picked the prune wine," Arachnid forcefully spoke. It was as if he meant to say something else, but decided against it at the last moment.

"I did, yes." Lutious responded with a half bitter tongue. "Now ask what you were really going to ask."

A smile found it's way across Arachnid's lips for an instant, "I was going to ask…well, I was gonna ask what the hell happened to Kitty?"

Lutious leaned forward; not without a creak from the chair he sat on, "Kitty? I almost forgot to tell you, Arachnid. I decided to help her out."

"Last time you said 'help'…" Arachnid paused. "Where is Kitty?"

Any form of happiness distilled from Lutious' face, "She's on Rabbit Trail. Right at the top of the hill," Lutious watched Arachnid waste no time in making for the door and disappear into the overcast atmosphere. "That boy over reacts, I will say."


'Rabbit Trail'. An old sign that appeared as if it had never been changed directed Arachnid down a low vegetation path. Sparse trees evened themselves apart atop struggling green grass. Rain had begun to fall from gray clouds; effectively dampening Arachnid's hair and adding weight to his body length linen black coat. He himself completely ignored this, and made haste up the hill.

It was around now when Arachnid noticed the water trailing down the hill in front of him was strange. It wasn't like the rain that was falling. This world's familiar tint of red was dubiously adorning each stream of the water. A couple of seconds of running up the hill, and Arachnid discovered why. Kitty - one of Arachnid's best friends in Reimoorse, and who also was a trained alchemist - hung headless upside by thick twine from a sturdy branch. Her body oozed out it's liquid and various other commonly hidden body parts.

Arachnid wanted everything to look away, but found himself watching her life fluid unwillingly draining itself onto dirt and clay. He didn't cry, however. He couldn't. He found himself wanting to, but he knew what Kitty herself would have said. She would have made it clear that tears wouldn't solve anything. Tears were just a speed bump on the way to intention. Arachnid thought that was downright stupid, but he'd let her ideals shine through his own personality just this once. He would do something else about it, though. It didn't include going up against Adore like he promised Lutious he would. It involved joining Adore itself. Lutious could have his damn guild, and he could try his best to take on the bizarre and trained ranks of Adore, but Arachnid would be there to fight back.

'This is the last straw,' Arachnid thought. 'I couldn't believe I even went through with the plan to let Adore attack Reimoorse. So what if there are cultists hidden there? They haven't done as much as that demon.' Arachind held a thoughtful silence while still finding it hard to look away from Kitty's body. 'If I told those who joined Geist about Lutious, then…then it wouldn't be a challenge to kill him.' Arachnid revealed a taciturn grin, 'Lutious…you've messed with my mind too much now.'

Author:   tyto72
Date:   Jul 18, 08 at 7:10pm (PST)
Subject:   re: Adore: Shades of Black {~M~}
As the dreary sky drizzled rain upon the land below, a cloaked figure walked slowly through one of the filthy streets of the tainted town. Their stride was smooth and elegant, and they almost seemed to float along the ground; not out of place among others in Soard, something of a typical sight. Hugging close to the walls of the dilapidated buildings, the figure entered an alleyway, intending to pass through it to the next street.

Sylvia's hand strayed almost instinctively to the sheathed weapon hidden beneath the folds of her cloak as she entered the deeper shadows. It was not the first time that she had traveled through Soard, and tedious as usual. In fact, were it not for the rumors, she would never have come close to the shady, pathetic town in the first place.

Life had been so boring for her- it seemed like ages since the last bit of excitement she had. She had turned to dabbling in tavern and alleyway gossip to find something that could spark her interest, though it normally wasn't her style. However, it turned out that veering from the norm had worked out- after entering the lobby of an inn at Riot's Edge, she had caught snatches of discussion about the attack on Reimoorse. That didn't particularly interest her until the topic wandered to the construction of a guild.

Geist, was it called? She couldn't quite remember.

With such little to do constructively with her time, she figured that it might be worth it to travel to Soard, which was where the rumors had led her. It occurred to her chasing rumors had never yielded any results.

Then again, chasing rumors was something that she had never done to begin with. Coming to the edge of town, she blinked wearily at the sad state of the area's plant-life.

"Well, scenery is meant to match its inhabitants, I suppose."

She was about to walk away before a sign caught her eye. It was difficult to tell just what it was about it that made her linger. Resting a hand on the worm-eaten wood, she scanned over the faded letters. Rabbit Trail. Looking past the sign, she tracked with her eyes the ribbon of trodden vegetation that scrolled away through the sickly trees, and finally, up a hill. However, she couldn't see the top of the hill clearly through the sheets of rain. She placed one foot upon the trail- then another, beginning to walk at the same steady pace she had used in the actual town. Perhaps she would find something, perhaps not; but her intuition told her that examining where the trail ran could potentially lead to something worth her time- foolhardy or not.

Less chance of being mugged by a cultist, anyways.

Author:   Carpe Omnis
Date:   Jul 18, 08 at 11:03pm (PST)
Subject:   re: Adore: Shades of Black {~M~}
There was nothing but the smell of ash and death left in Reimoorse.

A cool, damp mist clung to the entire town, wrapping it in a white shroud that seemed to hide it from the outside world. It was as if the powers-that-be were ashamed of what they allowed to happen there, ensconcing it in their holy haze. Gods were supposed to be flawless, and Reimoorse was a giant, discreditable blemish in that theory.

Caliste, of course, did not believe in gods. As she walked through the barren streets, the mist caused ash to cling to her legs, a constant reminder of the atrocities that had befallen the citizens. The only thing that she had on her mind was death and tragedy; the same that was apparent in the smell of the air, the sound of her hollow steps echoing off the smoldering buildings, the sight of miles of empty metropolis. Everything was completely ravaged, stripped of the glory and prestige it once held to reveal a brittle and weak skeleton. True, there was a darker side to Reimoorse—Caliste had experienced that first-hand, and had been stripped of the promises of childhood because of it—but there was much good that could be found there. No one deserved this fate.

Yes, Caliste had never a penchant for religion. Spending the past nearly five years of her life adapting from being rescued from the vileness of cultism had given her a fear of organized faith unlike any other, and she avoided any talk of deities or idolatry at all costs. However, witnessing the terrorization of Reimoorse by forces unknown, Caliste had lost something even more: her faith in humanity. She had always been a firm believer (if she could be considered a believer at all; she was no activist for any causes and did not have strong opinions on much) that changes were caused by humans, not some silly divine force. Humans looked too much to scorn the godly because of certain events, and yet did not realize that they are the reason for their occurrence in the first place. However, Caliste also believed that humans could be genuine and cooperative without some promise of posthumous redemption...until now.

There was no hope left for civilization. Slowly, there were descending into madness and vice. Reimoorse was only the beginning.

Quickly, Caliste turned a corner and slunk against a wall. Three thugs ran past her, glittering gems and jewelry bundled in their arms. One held a newly-crafted gun, and Caliste shivered; such technology scared her, especially in a time like this. Since the attack, there had been a heightened crime rate in Reimoorse. Thievery was abound, and with the authorities busy aiding the public in rebuilding homes, treating the injured, and dealing with legal issues, there was simply no time to deal with it all. Broken storefronts and smashed locks had become an all too familiar sight.

She had to make it to Mantis's house. He was the one leading the refugees, the one who had taken her in and allowed her to help. If there was any hope left for the town, it would lie in him and his cause. Reimoorse depended on Caliste...and she depended on him.

Author:   Aulis Vaara
Date:   Jul 20, 08 at 12:40am (PST)
Subject:   re: Adore: Shades of Black {~M~}
Her muscles tensed automatically as a new stinging bite of pain seeped into her back. That would end. Two or three strokes more and her body would already remember that fighting was useless. She had already resigned herself long ago, struggling against her due punishment was a waste of effort. She deserved what she got and she had to accept that. Every time again her body protested against the first ones, and every time again, it would realize its resistance was futile. Another lash came, creating another red stripe across her back.

She was glad it was not her bottom today. That hurt far more, and it was more lasting, reminding her whenever she sat down. No, today's wrongs were not bad enough to warrant that. She was happy she hadn't completely disappointed her Master. It was not the worst punishment she had had to endure. Far worse ones had come and gone. At one time her Master had even ignored her after she had failed him. That had hurt more than the dozen or two-dozen lashes she often got for minor failures, even more than those on her bottom that hurt for days or weeks.

A number of guildmembers stood around watching her punishment. Her master had decided to do it out in the drizzling rain. The rain both intensified the lashes she got and soothed the pain afterward. It was definitely a strange thing, but she didn't have time to concentrated on the differences. Some of those around her looked down in horror, some even cringed when the bendy wooden switch was about to hit her. Others were simply amused at her predicament. Those that stayed away had already seen this often enough, while they came back at times, they were generally bored with the demonstration. She wished she could be like them, that it didn't matter anymore to her, but she always felt ashamed she had disappointed her Master. She also wished that she could be good enough never to disappoint her owner anymore.

The camp suddenly stirred around her. Everyone seemed to dash in a seperate direction, drawing their cold iron weapons. She had felt that coldness far too often herself. She didn't enjoy went her Master lent her to one of the others, but she would always do her very best to please and thus please him too. She stood in her place, the rain still sprinkled against her back. He had not told her her punishment was done, so she didn't move. If she did, he would be angry with her again.

A single person, she couldn't really see more than that it was a person, approached the scene of her penance. As he came closer, the others returned too, sheathing their various weapons. Before she could breathed again though, the stinging wooden tool swished across her back again. She hadn't been prepared and her body had been given too much time to recover after the last one. She almost yelped in pain. Fortunately she could stop herself from doing so. Whenever she screamed during punishment, her tongue would be punished as well. In fact, any time she spoke she was punished for doing so. She was expected to do her chores quietly. And she gladly did so, it seemed futile wanting to talk to anyone. What would she say anyway?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the formation of another streak, far to the side this time. Punishment would be a dozen lashes, like it usually was, but she was never able to keep count and her master didn't count either. At least not out loud. That made it impossible for her to determine when it was done. Perhaps that was for the better though, that way, it was more of a punishment and less something that she simply had to endure.

Her back was surely fiercely red by now, it felt painful enough. She didn't think it was bleeding yet though, she couldn't feel anything dripping. Perhaps a few bruises, but those were usually limited on her back. On her bottom they were usually much more prevalent, and they did indeed take a long time to heal. Although, according to her Master, she healed quite rapidly and quite well, her skin was miraculous in that regard. She never had any rough, ugly scars, all healed extremely smoothly and at its worst, a line of deeply pinkish skin would remain visible. That was one of the reason she was still allowed to remain with Him, as he adored her soft and smooth skin, and because it always returned to that state.

The anticipation was at times worse than the lashes themselves. She was never allowed to look, so she never knew when it was coming, she only knew that it was. She had to stare to the ground most of the time, sometimes she was allowed to look in front of her, like today. Another one came in hard, the switch slightly bending along with her body, creating a long gash all the way across her back. The still drizzling rain began soothing immediately, but that last one hurt a lot more than usual. Tears welled up in her eyes, eventually finding their way down her cheeks.

Another five came, one at a time, with plenty of time in between. None of them were quite as bad as the one before. Maybe she got used to it over time. Perhaps that was why her master never did more than two dozen strokes. Actually never more than a dozen on her back, two dozen was only done on her rear end, where each consecutive one seemed to hurt more.

On the last stroke, the rain started pouring down, and guildmembers fled in different directions. Many fled to the inns and bars of the nearby village, while others fled to their tents in the camp. She? She could stand out in the rain for a while, contemplating her punishment before she would be called inside for the night. At least, she hoped she would be called inside for the night. It had happened before that she had to sleep outside in the mud, though never if it was still raining out. She was never subjected to unnecessary risks. The rain ran over her on all sides: between her small breasts down her belly, down her back and across her anus, which tickled.

Her feet sank a bit deeper in the softening ground. The mud seemed to be climbing to her ankles from her perspective. She didn't free herself, she didn't even move, she just waited to be freed and allowed to serve again. It didn't come quickly. By the time her Master called her into his tent, her curly hair was soaked and her skin was so clean it was shining even after drying. Her hair wouldn't dry so quickly on its own, so it was wrapped in a towel. After drying, it did regain its curly volume. It had been doing that a lot lately, it almost seemed as it if had given up being curly, as opposed to fighting to be straight at every chance.

She couldn't thank her Master for drying her, as she wasn't allowed to talk, but he would take what she owed him for it before he went to sleep. For now, it would do that she sat on her knees at his feet, staring at the ground, ready for when he wanted her to do something.

Author:   Amano Murokumo
Date:   Jul 20, 08 at 12:56am (PST)
Subject:   re: Adore: Shades of Black {~M~}
Arachnid finally commanded his feet to turn him around. It didn't matter anyway. The image of a good friend missing their head wasn't something to just slip out of memory. He presumed his dreams would dangle that in front of him for months; if not years. And Lutious. He wouldn't have to suffer a single night with Kitty's haunting. Being the sickly sadistic man he was, a full slaughter of children wouldn't phase him. Arachnid half cringed at this fact. He knew he'd never be able to set an even revenge since Lutious held nothing dear. His two swords were all he seem to chronically care about, and that's if you call bathing in blood a gift.

"Did you do this you son of a bitch!?"

Arachnid was taken off guard if he ever had it. A cloaked figure stood before him in the pouring rain. Arachnid didn't take time to sketch details to his mind and almost whispered, "I may be a son of a bitch, but I didn't do this." Without spending another moment of his time defending his stance with the new person, he began walking past her under the pathetic sky.

Author:   tyto72
Date:   Jul 20, 08 at 1:58am (PST)
Subject:   re: Adore: Shades of Black {~M~}
Sylvia's dark eyes were bitter and accusatory under the shadow thrown by the lip of her drenched hood. She tried hard not to look at the headless corpse, but her eyes seemed to almost move without her discretion.

Crossing herself clumsily in her haste, she murmured a brief prayer under her breath and turned away. Though she was not particularly religious, it felt somehow necessary- considering the proverbial hell that the victim had apparently gone through.

"I'm not done with you yet." she snapped abruptly- finding something to take her mind off of the corpse. Her voice was gruff- fueled by her anger over what the killer had probably done to his female victim before finishing her off.

It occurred to her that it well could have been- and probably was- the work of Adore. Just the thought of the sadistic and disgusting organization made her even angrier. While her mind pondered the evil guild, she was reminded of exactly why she had come to Soard.

Geist? Gest? Again, her memory had turned its back on her. Perhaps she should have written it down.

"Tell me what you know about the formation of a guild." she said flatly- staring coldly at Arachnid and speaking with a voice that failed to betray her gender. Rather than asking the question, she opted out for demanding the answer. It was something she had learned from past experience with the 'street-rats' of Soard- asking nicely rarely yielded any kind of results.

"Well? Speak up." Sylvia spat- impatient and getting angry with each moment that ticked by. The rain wasn't helping. Soaking into the thick fibers of her cloak, it hung heavy over her shoulders. Her hand rested on the wrapped hilt of her short-spear- tensed and ready in case the situation called for drawing steel.

Author:   BSmith3
Date:   Jul 20, 08 at 5:04am (PST)
Subject:   re: Adore: Shades of Black {~M~}
With a sickening squelch, the knife found its mark. The man on the other end of the blade frowned as the red liquid dripped slowly down to its hilt. There was a good chance it would stain the metal, as it had before - there were three or four spots he just couldn't get clean. It was worth it, though; it always was. With determination, the man raised the knife again, bringing it down with another thud, accompanied by a splash of scarlet. A droplet hit him in the face and he licked his lips; it wouldn't be long now... Another slice. Then another. He savored the smell as it reached his nostrils.

"Hey Boss, hurry up, would ya?" The man sighed. Didn't they realize that these things take time?

"Yeah Boss, come on, we're starving!"

"If you want it that badly, do it yourself!!" The Boss yelled, rising from his stool where he'd been cutting meat for dinner. The four other men at the campsite grumbled abashedly; the Boss knew this was as close as he was going to get to a "sorry". He went back to cooking.


Twenty minutes later, as the sun sank below the trees, four bodies were seated around the campfire, enjoying a meal of venison and venison with a side of venison. They didn't complain, though - their Boss was an excellent cook. One of the men turned to tell him so, only to find empty air.

"Where'd Boss go?" he asked, turning back to the others.

"I dunno. Probably wandered off somewhere again."

"Geez. He's gotta stop doin' that to us."

"He'll be back, don' worry."


As it was, the Boss was currently sitting about 20 miles away, on a rocky outcropping that jutted off the face of the mountain. Far below him, the trees stretched on for miles, an endless sea of emerald green. An occasional bird glided by, silhouetted by the orange glow of the setting sun. The Boss gazed towards the sun, and as it slowly sank beneath the horizon, his thoughts turned to her. He'd sat in this exact spot with her many times, watching similar sunsets, his arm around her slender waist, her head on his shoulder, her long, pale gold hair cascading around them both. That all seemed so long ago now. So much had happened...

He looked off in the direction of Reimoorse. She was there right now. He knew he could be, too, if he wanted to be, but... they had both agreed it was better to work separately. It was strange, but he could have sworn the sky above Reimoorse was slightly more orange.

'She must just be that radiant,' he thought, and chuckled despite the tear in his eye.

He sighed. It wasn't to be, he kept telling himself, but his heart just wouldn't listen. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he closed his eyes and sang quietly to himself.

"I never wanted the stars,
Never shot for the moon.
I like them right where they are;
All I wanted was you......"

OOC: Ten Amazing Points to whoever can tell me the name of the song. Five if you Google it. =P And a whopping 50 Amazing Points to whoever can tell me the Boss's name AND how you know.

Author:   Rust
Date:   Jul 23, 08 at 3:45am (PST)
Subject:   re: Adore: Shades of Black {~M~}
The man known as Cojisto walked through the town of Plume. He really had no reason to be there, no real reason to be anywhere, but he was a man who had come to love his own freedom. This man was a tall one, cut an intimidating figure: muscular, lean; not the kind of guy to mess with. Then again, the burnt orange vest that was hanging open precariously, showing a chiseled chest. Even more intimidating was the giant sword, a Claymore, slung acrossed his back along with a small bag of belongings. The only sign of armor on his body were a pair of chain mail gauntlets on either hand. Coupled with what looked like black slacks, he appeared to be wearing a motley assortment of clothing that appeared to have been pulled out of a wardrobe at random. So… he looked like an intimidating clown.

Cojisto palmed a small, wooden, dumbbell-shaped object in a hand. A simple device: a Yawara. A weapon used mostly to incapacitate an opponent, but can kill with the right pressure in the right spot. Not liking to kill when it could be avoided, the weapon was a perfect one for the man.

He looked at the buildings around him. Plume was one of the more architecturally advanced cities around. Even in the gloom of dusk, the buildings near the church were pristine and magnificent. Even now, as he stood before the massive doors of Plume's great church, he could do nothing more than believe that a place so grand could offer the guidance that many have promised. Surely such architecture had to have been created by a higher force! Honor, morality, a man's moral duty; all such things started in places such as these. Everything he's ever learned about how to treat an opponent came from golden doors such as these. Awestruck, he started towards the doors. Until a small muffled scream reached his ears.

He instantly perked up, muscles tensing against the rapidly approaching darkness. His frame turned from the gates and towards the cry for help. Eyes searched rapidly, every alleyway seeming to disclose their contents with a single glance. Then he saw it: a man dragging a woman even farther into the darkness. With a low growl, Cojisto started towards the two people.

"C'mon sweet cheeks, all I wanted was a little action," spoke the man. "It won't be long til I have to return, so let's make the best of the time we've got."

The voice, low and menacing, was followed by a loud ripping sound. Cojisto turned in time to see the bare chest of the woman in view. "Hey, buddy, let the girl go." Both the victim and the victimizer turned towards the voice. They both stared at him, the girl with hope and the guy with narrowed eyes. Neither of them moved. "Well? Get out of here girl. Grab your clothes and go."

"Now who in the hell do you think you are? Get out of here, scum bag," the man said as he spit in Cojisto's direction.

Now it was his turn to narrow his eyes. "You dare call me a scum bag after this!?" Exclaimed the honorable man, "If anything, I should be disgusted by you.." And with that, Cojisto closed the distance between him and the man. It happened quickly as to take the man by surprise. A tight metal fist collided with the man's jawbone, sending him to the wall and away from the girl. "Run lady." Nodding to him, the girl gathered up her now ruined shirt and ran away, probably home.

"Oh, you are SOO going to pay for that." The man stood and wiped his jaw clean of blood. The shot had gotten him pretty good; the metal links of the chain mail had dug into his skin. That would definitely leave his skin raw for a bit. The two stared at each other and it became obvious that Cojisto was definitely the bigger man. Even if the assailant was a large man himself, and had an axe which is something Cojisto hadn't noticed earlier. "Just you wait, you'll get yours someday, scum bag. I'll get Adore after you faster than you can twitch. Bloody bastard, you'll rue the day that you messed with Mug Colt."

Mug Colt left the scene, running with his tail between his legs. The thought of chasing after him filled the larger man's head, but he merely shrugged in the end and started back towards the Cathedral. He would complete this little leg of whatever journey he was on. "… Adore, I think that was something important? Ahh well, I'm sure Daku would have mentioned something about it if it was. I'll spend the time to think about it after seeing the church." Cojisto shrugged before entering through the large gates and back into an awestruck state of mind.

Author:   WarriorOfChains
Date:   Jul 23, 08 at 5:26am (PST)
Subject:   re: Adore: Shades of Black {~M~}
"I needn't any of your horse shit tonight, Thomas! Get off my step!"

A drunken villager went head first off the porch thanks to the other man's shove. Blood and alcohol gurgled in his mouth and dribbled onto the streets. Weyland could tell the drunk was trying to reason with the other man, desperately reaching out from the ground, but wet jibberish was all that came from his lips.

The man on the porch showed no sympathy for this Thomas and went back into his home, almost happily. Weyland stepped to the drunkard's side and looked down on him. The man's eyes immediately found Weyland's left arm hanging limp in a sling. Hacking up the rest of the fluid in his throat, Thomas said his first coherent words, "I'm sorry."

It was honest, sober sympathy between two complete strangers. The kind of sympathy that only exists in a world terrorized by Adore. Weyland had developed a very desensitized indifference to everything, but that still didn't stop him offering his right hand to help the drunkard up.

"Plums?" Weyland asked.

Thomas smiled and nodded.

Author:   Aulis Vaara
Date:   Jul 23, 08 at 8:26pm (PST)
Subject:   re: Adore: Shades of Black {~M~}
It was sharing day. She really disliked that day. Despite the great importance of it to her Master, and thus to herself too, she couldn't help but deeply despising it. The whole day was very annoying, she was forced to deal with other people besides her owner, even though it was on his behalf. And although she didn't have to do anything fundamentally different from what she usually did, she did have to do it over and over and over and over again. It became a drag halfway through the day and she still had half a day to go then. On top of that, some of the things she was subjected to were bizarre at best and painfully humiliating at worst. Her Master never allowed her to be seriously harmed though.

She was still curled up in her little warm self at the feet of her Master, who slept peacefully but loudly above her. She sighed, but she stayed where she was. It was going to be a long day again, like they always were when she didn't look forward to it. Perhaps it was her own fault for not being more positive. Her stomach growled. That was also something she had to endure on sharing day, she was not done and thus couldn't eat until she had finished all her chores. They really were chores, even her Master called them that, just some things that had to be done. He didn't particularly like sending her out either, He had admitted to her once. But that didn't change anything of course. She still had to do it.

A gust of winds shook their tent, He didn't wake up however, and thus she could still only remain at her Master's feet. Her legs were held closely against her chest, her arms wrapped around them. It was the position she normally had to sleep in. Sometimes she was allowed to stretch out, but that was usually paired with something else, like being tied up or being used as pillow. Still, the variety was sometimes a bliss, and the ability to even serve her Master in her sleep always made her very happy, which meant that her day after was very productive. Strange that He didn't do it before a sharing day. But He was the Master and she the slave, so it was not up to her to second guess His decision.

"Awake?" His voice suddenly came from above her. Of course she was awake, she was always awake before her Master, as a good slave should be. She stretched herself while nodding. If her Master was awake, she could begin her morning and help him get up and dressed. She particularly liked that. Actually, it was mostly the feeling of clothes she liked, likely because she couldn't wear any herself most of the time. Strangely enough, this annoying day was one of the few times she could, bizarre at the very least.

She gently removed the blanket from her Master's body. She then grabbed the wet cloth from the bucket of water and began washing Him. His face went first, his stubbly beard felt very weird. Normally she had to shave him first, but that was another exception on sharing days. By the end of the day the beard would be quite soft, and perhaps she would even be allowed to play with it again. His hands were next to follow and as soon as they were done, they began to run along her body, inspecting her, finding every bruise in every little corner. He needed to know on this day, so that he could see any excessive damage someone might do to her and pay him back in kind. Despite hurting her quite often Himself, He was very jealous and protective. No-one else was allowed to harm her as much as He did. And preferable not at all, but He had had to concede a bit in that area to please some.

She continued to wash His body, from His armpits to His toes and everything in between. He inspected her as thoroughly as she cleaned Him. It didn't take very long however, they both knew what they were doing and they had done it often before. Once her Master finally took his hands away from her, she stood up and turned around to grab his pants. By the time she turned back around, pants spread and ready to receive her Master's legs, He was standing up as well. She bent through her knees, holding the pants to the right level as He stepped in. His left leg went first, His right leg followed quickly. She stood back up and closed the buttons. A belt was unnecessary.

She grabbed a simple shirt with buttons and draped it around Him. She could only close the light buttons one at a time, but still it was done fast enough. Her Master even petted her for her fast work. "You're nervous today. Don't be." She nodded to say she understood. Not that it would help much, but it was only polite to show that you had heard, even if you weren't allowed to talk. The black poncho was the last piece of clothing to follow and the easiest. All she had to was put it over His head and she was done. The poncho simply fell the way it was supposed to.

"There's a lot of sharing today," her Master explained to her, "new guy at the end too." New guys were the worst, because she never knew what to expect and they were often clumsy and that as last ones in the line. So instead of doing her last one quickly, she had to wait around for him to finally finish. "But, because it really is a long one today, you can sleep as soon as you get back." If this had been a normal relationship, she would've flown at Him, hugging Him tightly. This wasn't a normal relationship however, and she could only share her elation with herself. She didn't doubt He knew how thankful she was though. She would show him her thanks tomorrow by working even better than usual, if that were possible.

Then it was her time to be readied for her day. She wasn't exactly being dressed, but she did get to wear something on this day. Her Master brought out her box and opened it. Inside were the bonds she knew well enough. Four cuffs, two for her wrists and two for her ankles. They were actually quite soft and comfortable. Her Master had acquired them because he didn't like to see her wrists and ankles bleeding from being bound every sharing day. Since it was easier to attach her with the cuffs, it was done by most, if not all guildmembers, without His expressed obligation. A second piece was a collar for around her neck, with an attached leash. It was not really used. It only showed that it was sharing day and at certain occasions who was in control, although that was rather unnecessary.

Unlike other sharing days, He did not eat breakfast first, but instead moved toward the tent of another guildmember immediately. That really said something about the day being busy, He had never before gone off to breakfast without her, not even if he were punishing her. Her leash was quickly handed to the first member of the day, a man named Crow. She didn't like Crow, even less so because he was usually one of the first, while it would be much easier to have him as one of the last. He always wanted her to be unresponsive. Play dead while he did his thing to her. It was almost horrifying, but she did it because she had to. Playing dead is harder than one would expect under the circumstances she was in.

After Crow was done, her Master came back and guided her to the next member she had to please. Another one she got to see every time, and one who liked to do things unlike most of the others. Another experience she preferred not to be put through, unless it was done by her Master. Not because He was more gentle about it, but because she belonged to Him and thus He was allowed to do whatever He wanted. Her day went on like that, each member did his weird thing with her, ranging from tying her in absurd positions to simply violating her. And after each of them she was escorted to the next in the line by her Master, who then left again to return after her next chore was done.

That was how her day passed, without drinking, without eating. Her stomach growled and her body and its crevices felt dry and sore. It had to be over soon, she hoped. She was right, when her Master brought her into the next tent, he began to explain the rules, which meant that she was now with the new guy and thus this was the last in the line. "She will do anything you want. Don't try to make good conversation with her, she only knows how to serve. Some new guys make that mistake. Just do what you want as quickly as you can. But you cannot harm her permanently or excessively. After she is done, you will make sure her thirst is quenched and she is fed a decent meal. Her cuffs and collar do not go off at any time. Deliver her to my tent after she is fed." After that, her Master left her to her temporary charge, who seemed a bit insecure on what he was supposed to do.


EDIT: Typo.

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