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Vicious Elder

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Vicious Elder

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The Vampires of SIN, a faction forged out of desperation during the demon-wars of last Halloween that served as a safe haven for creatures that call the darkness home. Well, now the night is once again crawling with supernatural beings and we have become unintentional victims once more. So, Vampires, Lycans, Witches, Demons and all other manor of beasts come here and be merry. We are a peaceful bunch until threatened... Then we get nasty. And we know nasty.

Vicious Elder

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1. No godmodding. This organisation has a heavy history of godmodders, and it has gone far enough, become routine and is now just boring. So unless special permission is granted (which will require me to approach you, not the other way around) then just don't.
2. No cybering. Some of the characters here (especially one of mine...) get handsy and a little lewd from time to time... either time-skip or take it off-site to a place where I won't be busted for a ToS violation. If you get me banned, then you will suffer.
3. Fighting is a grey area. Naturally, it will occur in this thread sooner or later, but it is not encouraged. This is a place of peace and safety. Sparring is allowed in the designated rooms, but other than that, you will bring down the wrath of Malkav.
4. Don't control or kill other people's characters unless they have said you can. This is a given.
5. Be semi-literate, at least three to four sentences, speak in third person and NO chat speak or ** for actions. I have always stood by this policy, but never enforced it. That changes today.
6. You can have as many characters as you can control. HOWEVER, you must make it clear which ones are speaking and doing things so other roleplayers don't get confused. Use different coloured fonts or something to let us know when your changing character.

Those who do not follow the rules will be made to leave.

Vicious Elder

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Owner
Malkav the Madman
Lamdiel the Broken - Malkav's main mule.



Assistants

Vanku the Insane - The host of the thread when Malkav can't be around. If the owner isn't present, Vanku serves as a steward.
Asiril - An oldbie, thread regular and common contact of Malkav both on Gaia, and off-site. If he tells you to do something, or not to do something, take it as law.



Others
Ithaya - This girl is on par with Malkav, if not better. Treat her with respect or GTFO.

Vicious Elder

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-{ Open }-

Vicious Elder

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Malkav paced the hall impatiently, thinking hard on the recent events. Things were not at all right with the world... Oh how he longed for the days where a problem could be rectified with a swift pluck of the strings, reverting everyone to their former state. But now.. Technology, atheism... science. It killed the magic of wonder.

Romantic Lunatic

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Asiril smirked, casually leaning against a wall as Mal passed, "everythin' alright there old friend?"

Vicious Elder

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Malkav tilted his head, staring daggers at the Methuselah despite having a silk ribbon bound tight over his eyes. "Sarcasm does not suit you, my old ally." He muttered.
The tone that Asiril took reminded him of his sister.. It was unsurprising that she'd been taken with him, he was so like her.
"If she was still walking these nights, do you think she'd have found peace?"

Romantic Lunatic

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Ashiril chuckled, flashing a typical smile at the Methuselah, "perhaps if I grew weary." He offered his blindfolded friend a wink, fully aware he saw it. "Although I'm sure she like you..and myself tire of how things have become."

Vicious Elder

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"Aye, but you didn't walk the golden streets." He shrugged, plagued by thoughts. "The first city provided everything to the living and peace to the dead. So long as Cain was appeased we were all kept in paradise."
The Antediluvian took a seat in his throne, resting his palms out flat on the moulded stone arms.
Ithaya crawled out from her hole and through the cupboard into the kitchen proper. Her hair was matted and dirty from nearly two weeks living solely in the catacombs. Dried blood stained her demon claw and a freshly healed bite mark glistened on her other wrist, small pinpricks of red on her pale, mud-streaked skin. She hadn't seen daylight in months. Malkav's chambers afforded her shelter, peace, as much honey as she could eat. Well, it was mostly peaceful. There had been some kind of clamour recently, though holed up in her den in the catacombs, she knew little other than the vague noises. But, more importantly, one of the little blue-robed men that wandered the tunnels had just bitten her! It was neutralised now, but it had managed to catch her off guard and that made her angry.
She also wanted a bath.
She padded barefoot across the kitchen, Teddy clamped against her chest by her forearm, and into the throne room.

Friendly Friend

A small figure huddled against a tombstone. Whimpering, it hugged an oversized stuffed rabbit. The child watched wide eyed as the eyes circled around her. She could hear the growls of the three wolves as they contemplated whether or not to attack. The moonlight hit a silver locket on her chest as the clouds broke, revealing a name. Seras. Seras shivered as a wind started up. "S-scary doggies!" she whimpered into her rabbit. The moon dissapeared, and rain began to fall. The child began to cry loudly as the eyes came closer. "Help me, Papa!" she screamed as a wolf slunk forwards.

Ruthless Inquisitor

I would tell you to read Deuteronomy 12:23, but I understand most of you cannot hold a bible.

Vicious Elder

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Ah, how very pretentious of you to assume that we all conform to your own narrow-minded view of faith. I dare say, you remind me of a frightened child desperately screaming that monsters are not real as one proceeds to devour his legs in the night.

Maybe I could read to you from one of my holy books? Though I assume you would stop me halfway through to denounce me a heretic and attempt to have me burned at the stake?

Ruthless Inquisitor

Ah, how presumptuous of you to dismiss my argument with the same arrogance that seems to be so fitting of all of you, as if your half-hearted hand-waving of my argument will function as a viable substitute to actual argumentative skills. I daresay, you remind me of an arrogant child arguing with another over how much older and intellectually apt he is as compared to the other.

Maybe I could read to you from one of my holy books? Though I assume you would interrupt me halfway as you begin to burn to death.

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