WELCOME TO LALA LAND [TEST][ DNP ]

[Asphyxial_Aoi]

x

----【--н ι т σ ѕ н ι к ι . я у υ υ н є ι --】
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[img]http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk117/ORO19/OC4/499763-1.jpg[/img]

[Asphyxial_Aoi]

[Asphyxial_Aoi]

♣
Angels and demons
Were circling above me
For what life has left for me
Yearning, for what was left of feeling
Where was life when it had a meaning
Where was death when all the spirits were fading
Nothing's real anymore.
►►►-ν є я м ι ℓ υ ѕ . ℓ υ ¢ α η σ
" BLESSED ARE THE FOOLISH & INDUSTRIOUS "


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[Asphyxial_Aoi]

[imgleft]http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk117/ORO19/OC4/si2ii.jpg[/imgleft]

The voice through my head... Asphyxial_Aoi
I've been named... Michealis 'Colt' O'Conner
What I am willing to reveal... 20
I am a... Human
I can assure you, that I am... Male
I do like... He was never interested in sex or having a relationship, so.. bi-curious?
I've been told... If anything, he's pretty straight forward and blunt. Silent, taken into day dreaming if you leave him unattended for a long time and chain smoking.
I have lived through a lot...
Father - Works for the military. Very close to his family and often takes his son and daughter out for a full day of hunting, weapon training and teaching them the arts of self defense out of boredom when he wasn't out killing men or fighting a war. He was involved in many suspicious cases in the war, was imprisoned for interrogation many times for suspicion of defrauding, pilferage and involvement with the local mafia and an international drug chain. Died in prison in a sudden fire incident, though obviously they missed a lot of details in the report.

Mother - Normal housewife. She worked as a seamstress in the morning at home and a school guard at night when it became apparent that her husband wasn't going to return home anytime soon, maybe forever. She had a tendency to hurt herself whenever she felt depressed, talked a lot about death to her children that it no longer effected or worried them. When the news that her husband was dead she went over the edge; one night she went to work and left her children to a neighbour, just as she used to, and came home the next morning in a hearse. Her employer claimed that the poor woman had gone wacko and jumped off a cliff, not that her children didn't saw it coming.

Sister - 6 years younger. She was still in school when they lost both parents and forced to live with a neighbour who tolerated their presence half the time. A good cook. Ugly as hell.

Colt- Nickname came from his father. He was forced to drop out of high school when his father didn't came home and worked in a publishing factory in the city, spend hours trying to sell newspapers along roadsides and curbs. A very low pressure job, made lots of friends. He left his sister with the neighbour one night, about a week after mom's funeral service and followed his friend who promised big bucks if he joined the local gang, only to realise that he had been sold off in a slave scheme which was quite a trend at that time. Unfortunately he didn't had any guns on him right then. He was deposited at The Bazaar along with several dozen other kids and had been there since.

Crowding my collar is... Spider, leaf, gloves;;Gold, gray, pink (well, he'd never been a slave before).
If I could choose... As long as its not the abusive type then everything sounds fine.
I am the property of... Nobody as of yet.

[Asphyxial_Aoi]

♣
Angels and demons
Were circling above me
For what life has left for me
Yearning, for what was left of feeling
Where was life when it had a meaning
Where was death when all the spirits were fading
Nothing's real anymore.
►►►-ｍιｃｈｅａｌιｓ · ｃｏｌｔ · ｏ'ｃｏｎｎｅｒ
" BLESSED ARE THE FOOLISH & INDUSTRIOUS "


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ѕpιder · leaғ · gloveѕ
gold · grey · pιnĸ







ａ ｂ ｃ ｄ ｅ ｆ ｇ ｈ ｉ ｊ ｋ ｌ ｍ ｎ ｏ ｐ ｑ ｒ ｓ ｔ ｕ ｖ ｗ ｘ ｙ ｚ

ｍ ι ｃ ｈ ｅ ａ ｌ ι ｓ . ｃ ｏ ｌ ｔ . ｏ ' ｃ ｏ ｎ ｎ ｏ ｒ

ｍιｃｈｅａｌιｓ . ｃｏｌｔ . ｏ'ｃｏｎｎｏｒ

[Asphyxial_Aoi]

Hello there.

My name is Aoi, recently I posted a new slave into the forum and until now is still looking for a master to pair up with him.

So I was browsing along the master profiles and found your character Dusty Elliot Smith, and was wondering if you might be interested to play him with my slave character?

[Asphyxial_Aoi]

Quote:

A sudden cacophony stirred the pair of pale hazel eyes and directed them towards the other cages lined along the shop, watching the slaves and customers talking talking talking then yelling at each other. Murmurs and whispers seemed to waft around from all corners of the Bazaar and shops and stalls, so much noise all popping up and fading out randomly like an orchestra of deranged musicians, each trying to outshine the other musicians with their vibrato or alto, all those tongue-tying jumbo. But the people here weren't musicians. Not with those outlandish outfits and obvious queer-looking attire, the collars and chains and furs and tails, even the cage that encased the physical body belonging to those pair of pale hazel eyes were anything but something you see on a daily basis. The cage was small, cramped, uncomfortable, and it smelled worst than mom's pickled monkfish dish. Weren't cages supposed to be for animals only? Complain complain complain.

But in all honesty, he should really stop day dreaming and yapping his brains off and maybe find a way out of this mess. Maybe. Huge emphasis on that. Because instead of being a part of the audience, as he was used to, Michealis O'Conner was officially a part of the band. Or should he say, a part of the band complete with his own collar and chains and god-forsaken-smelling cage. Damn, he needed a smoke.

And there he went again. Letting his thoughts flushed his thoughts into the drain when he should be figuring out how to get out of this mess. Hadn't he reminded himself about that already? It wasn't like good ol' Colt to let his guard down and let grand-theft-Jeff, who was a few years older than what he appeared with a face as honest as an angel's, to lead him straight into the mouse trap, the guy was pretty smooth anyways and anyone could mistake him for telling the truth. In fact if the slavers hadn't any gun on them at that time Colt would had wrestled out of his cage and lunge at the b*****d for tricking him. Nope, he didn't like being tricked, especially if it meant having his a** end up in a slave market. And he wasn't about to let Jeff get that satisfaction, closing his eyes and shoved all the negative thoughts into a drain at the back of his head. That was how dad told him how to do it, that was how he managed to keep a straight head after enduring a continuous twelve-hours journey from home to this place, with scant food and water and space to stretch around, while the boys around him broke down one after another. Now he really needed a smoke. Maybe two.

Rubbing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, the grey haired man carefully pulled the tip of his jacket off the questionable sanitation on the floor and leaned back against the cage so he could have a wider and better view of what was happening all around him. Nothing interesting to say the least, customers walking around and talking with the slaves. He watched and remembered the slaver's face, wondering if it was possible to ask the man a thing or two about what was going on and what was waiting for him if he got 'bought', as sick as that sounded, but decided against it. It was an orchestra after all and he was a part of the band.

Quote:

Everything was dark, pitch blackness that he couldn't even see the wall just inches away from his face. The floor was cold and hard and he could even feel the rough contours underneath his feet as if some dangerous creature had made its home in there just a few moments ago, running his slender fingers here and there absently. He could no longer remember the hour and the seconds, or whether it was day or night in the outside world. All he knew was that there was a heavy collar weighing down his neck. There was also a small metal ring shoved into his horn, a sort of limiter from what he assumed considering all his attempts of escape had been hopelessly futile in the last few days. Or was it weeks?

Shu Xinho had been tranquillized multiple times in the past few days when he was caught by hunters just hours after escaping from his previous master's residence, convincing the maids that he was just going to walk around in the garden for some fresh air. The hunters had set their trap smack center in the wild animal highway and as fated by providence Shu happened to be not looking where he was going, giving those greedy humans a delightful surprise upon finding that instead of wild rabbits they managed to snare up a lively young kirin with a fairly hot temper, which wasn't exactly very delightful to handle with. Shu battled aggressively on and off against the hunters as he was transferred from the woods and into a loading truck that would deliver him to his next stop, possibly a rich merchant's mansion or another notorious slave house. If it weren't for the foul-smelling chemicals they injected into his body Shu probably would had free himself before they even reached the Market, waking up a few days later in a cramped cage along with thousands other slaves waiting for new masters to take them home.

But he was awake now, or at least in this empty black void-like dream he was sure that he was awake. He could hear nothing, but it wasn't hard to tell that he was in a different place judging by the smell; it wasn't the smell of flesh and untreated sewerage from the shop in which he had been imprisoned for God-knows-how-long. No, this place had a totally different smell that had no distinct word of description. But anyways, it was apparent that he was doomed judging by the weight of his cuffs and shackles. Shu knew he was in for the biggest show in his life and slumped back on the floor on his chest, toying the dusts with his fingers. A dull click resounded in the darkness and a door opened up at the end of the corridor, throwing faint light across the grimy floor of the shop's back room. Two men appeared at the door and walked towards Shu's cage and hoisted it up, carrying him through the door and into the light of day. The kirin tried flattening himself at the metal base, trying to stay calm and wondered what kind of hell he'd be expecting next.

"Right. Time to put 'em on display" a raspy voice said and directed the two workers to where Shu should be placed, feeling the cage rattle loudly as it hit the floor and covered his head so it wouldn't bang against the metal bars. The slaver grinned and walked over to Shu's cage. "Now lets see how much money you'll give me, so called bringer of peace and prosperity" he chuckled before walking away to tend to his other slaves and customers.

"Tsk. Talk about manners.." Shu growled under his breath and pulled his legs against his chest, flattening his ears against his head and let his eyes wander around for the first time. He had never been in such a place before or seen so many slaves being put up for sale, though for some reason such a sight was no longer a new experience to the young kirin.

[Asphyxial_Aoi]

Scientist

Quote:

0800. A sleek Mustang '67 pulled into the driveway and swerved abruptly into the parking lot located at the western side of the medical university, close to the cafeteria. It was still early but by staff standards it was better to just go home and sleep the rest of the day off rather than risk running into the manager whose hobby, aside from making fake promises to rich parents that their offspring would be provided with the best medical education and training from the best the state could offer, was firing his current employees using the most absurd and trivial offenses so he could hire younger and much fleshier blonds and brunettes to work in his offices. Literally. Sooner or later.

But not for the blond man who languidly slipped out of his car with a stack of papers and files tucked under one arm, a stubbed cigarette wedged between his lips. His hair was long and tied loosely in a ponytail, his clothes were creased and he wore jeans; obvious violations of the university's clothing ethics. He punched his card and slipped on a stolen white laboratory coat which he stole from someone's locker (not entirely his fault, the said locker was unlocked by all things holy) and strutted to his laboratory where thirty medical students were eagerly waiting with their scalpels and dissection rabbits. The time showed 0830.

At 1500, after a long lunch at Starbucks with the manager who was eager to show off his new secretary, Matt Eastwood finally tore himself away from the girl's wandering hand and drove back to the university with two sandwich takeaways. He swung by his office to pick up some papers and went straight to his lab located at the furthest end of the university, in the basement. No, this wasn't the same lab he was forced to sit through with thirty idiots who couldn't hold a scalpel properly. The manager fancied this place as a secret lab, where early generations of the university often went underground to conduct out-of-syllabus experiments and sell the results to foreign scientists and black markets. Half the money would go to the university's fund, while the rest was the scientists' to pocket. Apparently Matt was the only one involved in the project.

1545. Matt locked the double doors behind him and started walking briskly into the room. Lining against the walls were shelves packed two feet deep with preserved entrails, organs of various creatures ceased to show any form of identification except for the label plastered on the glass jars. A museum of dead flesh. He came to another double door and stepped in, turning on the lights. This room was slightly less gory, with utensils and flasks and other science-ish tools on the shelves. Two dissecting tables in the middle of the room, a stretcher with some pillows and a blanket, four industry-sized fridges and an old air conditioner that hummed gently. Matt placed his load on a table and headed towards a smaller door at the end of the room, unlocked it and flicked on the light.

There were cages everywhere, top to bottom back to front, all empty. He walked towards the end of the room and stopped in front of a cage, squatted down to have a better look at the creature inside. Couldn't say it was a miracle because it was still a work-in-progress but so far a success nonetheless. He tapped the metal bars to get the others' attention, smiling that charming smile that made the secretary melt like the chocolate on her sundae. Lucky she wasn't his type or Matt might had some problems fitting her body into the organ shelves. "Miss me, lil guy?"

[Asphyxial_Aoi]

[img]http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk117/ORO19/OC4/3311820-20black_eyes20black_hair20long_hair20profile20shirt_open20solooioioi.jpg[/img]
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[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] Matthew Eastwood
[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] Matt
[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] February 9th
[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] 6'5"
[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] 140lbs
[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] Male
[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] 28
[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] Bisexual
[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] Master (Wealthy Doctor)
[/list][/list][/size]
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[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] [b][color=#5D8AA8]Biography[/color][/b] :
[color=white]____[/color] There was nothing extraordinarily special about Matt's early life. His childhood years was spent in their family home. His father was a local in the area while his mother was British, hence why no matter how hard Matt tried he just couldn't shake off the accent. He was the third child of three, and like any other child of his age, Matt never seemed to understand the reason why his parents choose such a boring name to give their son. It was from his aunt that word finally got out that his parents named him after a certain uncle, very distant, who made a fortune in a little pharmaceutical company in the late sixties. There was an arrest of some sort before the uncle's death, but Matt didn't care; he had a moneyed name, and that was enough reason for him to flee for the big cities right after graduation and continued his studies in medicine in a prestigious little college which had been kind enough to give him a student loan.

[color=white]____[/color]Sadly, Matt had been a little too young despite his far-fetched dreams. Life outside his childhood home was something he hadn't expected, spending the first two years in college juggling assignments and exams while taking up various part time jobs in effort to pay the rent. Not to mention the harsh weathers and one particular Alice, who dumped him after two months coupling together. He survived the first year, but managed to graduate with huge credits that would supply him with a wonderful income, should he be lucky enough to find a tame firm. But time was changing and a degree wouldn't make him rich enough, spending months working and collecting money so he could get a bachelor degree. For another five years everything was hard work. It would had been a different matter if Matt had been born in a rich family.

[color=white]____[/color]One night when everyone had retired to their respective hotel rooms and fast asleep, after spending almost the entire day club hopping and partying to celebrate the end of their internship, Matt received an offer that by far was too good to be true. The offer to become a private consultant came from his college professor and who happened to have a long history with the raven haired young man. Strange fantasies aside, the professor had always been kind to Matt, helping out whenever possible and recommending him to figures in the same field. If it hadn't been for the man Matt would probably spend his entire life struggling to remain at the top, and it was a pretty simple job to say the least; all he had to do was get a specialist training on neurology, get his name registered, work with NHS for another eight years and finally get his own office. But with a little help, Matt should be able to treat his first patient by his twenty-seventh birthday and richer than his late uncle.

[color=white]____[/color]A year passed and everything was starting to come together smoothly. Nervously unbalanced spinsters, epileptic widows and fat men with strokes were the common ones. Though their problems may vary all had very thick wallets and weren't hesitant upon payment if it meant that Matt would keep their deficiencies away from public ears. It was amusing really, to watch people go to such length to defend their dignity. But the amusement didn't last long. It started when his old professor, the one who had been brilliant enough to suggest the idea of a consultant in the first place, died in a supposed 'accident'. Matt's natural reaction should had been sad, angry, perhaps a trickle of vengeance at the person who had purposely punctured a hole in the professor's gas tank but on the contrary he felt nothing. It was one of the cases where the problem was 'normal', 'benign' and 'some people don't respond to antidepressants'. The same feeling occurred again when his mother died; while his family sobbed beside the bed, her skin was of the colour of the sheets and all he did was just stared straight ahead like a doll. It was sick.

[color=white]____[/color]So he told Alice, and she told him to just get a pet or marry. Yes, they still kept in touch after all these years, she was a sweet girl after all. Matt hadn't considered marriage, twenty-eight seemed to be an age both young and ancient to him so it could wait for afe . As for a pet, well, not to bad, provided if it didn't make too much noise and litter his office with fur and flees and poop. Something that could help boost his business, something exotic. But of course the only exotic creatures in the area specialized in bugs and after a few hours of consultation with the internet, he found an intriguing looking shop address half an hour's drive away, realised that he had no more appointments for the day and decided to pay a quick visit.

[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] [b][color=#5D8AA8]Personality[/color][/b] :
[color=white]____[/color] Modest
[color=white]____[/color] Hardworking
[color=white]____[/color] Silent
[color=white]____[/color] Straight forward, no-nonsense
[color=white]____[/color] Protective
[color=white]____[/color] Determined
[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] [b][color=#5D8AA8]Likes[/color][/b] :
[color=white]____[/color] ☑ His work, coffee, Camel cigarettes, English cooking, occasional books, the ironies of life.
[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] [b][color=#5D8AA8]Dislikes[/color][/b] :
[color=white]____[/color] ☒ Obnoxious bastards, intolerant people, loud noises, fast foods(well, he's a doctor), feeling insecure and being told that he's old.
[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] [b][color=#5D8AA8]Skills[/color][/b] :
[color=white]____[/color] Treating and assuring his patients
[color=white]____[/color] Cooking
[color=white]____[/color] Ranting until your ears bleed
[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] [b][color=#5D8AA8]Flaws[/color][/b] :
[color=white]____[/color] Overworking
[color=white]____[/color] Coffee and smoke (especially when depressed) addiction
[color=white]____[/color] Thinks too much
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[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] [url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=szh_jnn8KUI&fmt=18]" Lock Me Out " by Boom Boom Satellites[/url] (may induce seizures)
[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] He has a Ford Mustang V6, manual, and nothing was as dear to his soul.
[color=#003366][size=14][b]■[/b][/size][/color] Asphyxial_Aoi[/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list][/list]

[Asphyxial_Aoi]

[[ Ooo he's pretty. Is the cat also included in the rp? Just asking~ ]]

The building looked nothing like a mausoleum. It was a square little building shaped like an Irish cross clad from top to bottom and on all sides with dark domestic granite polished to perfection. It rested elegantly among lush white germanium and pink carnations beds, against a backdrop of Italian cypress trees and thick bushes manicured by the best gardener money could pay. Two lamp posts with vintage designs stood guard and illuminated the ebony door engraved with minute figures of cherubs dancing among the clouds in warm, sunset-red glow. But of course every expensive landscape wasn't complete without some sort of an artificial lake; two individual pools took up both flanks filled with fat koi fishes and vibrant coloured guppies. The only thing missing in the picture is a huge cardboard sign written in green luminescent paint with a quote saying 'rich but dead people buried inside, care not to crash in' or something. It would really helped matters a lot.

He broke through one of the french windows at the left side of the building, sent glasses flying across the marbled floor and skidded for a few feet until his head hit against the leg of a table. Large black wings retracted into his spine and left no sign that it was even there in the first place. Everything was dark and he could hear dogs barking in the distance, struggled to stand upright and kicked the table aside. He heard it swoop through the air followed by a loud sound of wood cracking against a wall or maybe some more tables. Under finely shod feet he could feel lush carpets that cushioned his uncertain footsteps as he tried to navigate around the room. The world seemed to spiral around and around ceaselessly and the incense scented air turned to liquid, his vision was reduced to a foggy blur. He was choking, gagging, stumbled forward and fell on top a cool curved surface. That was probably where the sarcophagus was but none of that mattered now, coughing violently and slid to the floor. And suddenly everything went black.

It was a depressing thought, to be honest, passing out in the middle of nowhere and landing straight inside a building with life sized effigies of saints and gods guarding each corner of the structure, crosses lining along the walls and hung from vintage wall lamps. No wonder he was rendered senseless but things wouldn't had taken a worst turn if he'd been more careful about his supplies, didn't thought that the fleshy girl with heavy makeup had Argyria in her blood. But on the other hand he was quite lucky the dogs couldn't reach him until late the next morning, when the caretaker came for his daily tasks and found out that there was a gaping hole where the windows should had been. Police were called, the owner was rushed to the scene so he could groan and curse at the amount of damage done. Several hours later the paramedics came and once the doctor declared that the intruder clad in simple black denims and black shirt was dead, possibly from the cold, the case was closed. The body was shipped to the mortician and the report was filed. The end. At least that was what they thought.

Footsteps, coming towards him. At first it sounded faint but grew clearer and clearer as the sun disappeared further into the horizon and the sky darkened. His senses began to tingle and he felt something cold against his back. He was laying down and the footsteps had ceased to a stop right at his side. Instantly the vampire's eyes shot open, golden orbs that dilated under the intense light and glanced at the human standing to his left then to the weapon in his hand. At the same time he drew up in a sitting position and cold fingers clasped around the human's wrist, yanking him forward. A swift punch was delivered straight against the human's stomach with enough force to dry his lungs out of air, clenching down on the wrist tighter and tighter until the silver scissors fell from the human's grasp. The vampire snorted.

"My my, here's a dangerous little lad. Didn't your mother told you not to play around with scissors?" Verr said coldly as he gazed at the blond haired human, eyes scanning quickly at the surgical-like attire before wandering off to the room in which he had been transferred into. No windows of any sort but judging by all the equipments scattered all over the place and the strange smell radiating from them it wasn't exactly hard to picture where he currently was. "Embalming room. A nice little place you have here, doctor, and very welcoming too. Anyways I shouldn't be wasting your precious time with idle chatter, seeing you still have some work to do; though I wonder what do you suppose I should do to you now?"

[Asphyxial_Aoi]

Matthew Eastwood gave a quick glance down at the address which was clasped in his hand before crumpling it up in a loose ball without losing his pace, shoving the paper deep into his pants pockets and likewise tried not to forget the reason why he even bothered to drive all the way down to this place. Listening to the sound of shoes clacking against the floor and the deep breathing of the escort looming a few paces ahead, the raven haired man wondered if he still had any chance to change his mind, perhaps faking a sudden realisation that he actually had an appointment with client that day and get the hell out of the shop before things got too deep; why deep? Because as far as experience taught him everything conducted below ground level and behind tightly secured doors with passwords was always a subject to suspicion. And all he wanted was a simple pet, albeit an exotic one.

Despite it being in he middle of summer Matt wore black denims, white shirt and topped off with black coat. His shoulder length hair was tied up in a tight pony tail and feet were carefully shod in jet black leather shoes polished to perfection and a white zoot hat in which he was holding in his other hand. With that kind of attire he might just as well walk around with a Boston accent, an ivory cane and puffing his head off on a lit cigar. But being Matt you could say that it was a call of profession; the clients, especially the older ladies were particularly particular when it came to attire and nothing pleased them more than to have their treatments while criticizing on the doctor's simple and yet oh so immature choice of wardrobe of shirts and faded jeans. And because his business was all about satisfying people he finally converted strictly to a diet of suits and coats. At first it took some time getting used to especially the unforgiving summer heat, but now that he was getting more approvals and tips there as really nothing for him to say on the matter. It was all about impression, so the clients said, didn't matter whether he was consulting clients or picking out a pet to bring home. Suits could get him anywhere and anytime though he certainly hadn't bargained secret underground rooms.

By the time he was lead through the second secured door Matt had a feeling that he wasn't going to stumble upon an exotic animal anytime soon, should had stayed in the shop and maybe buy two dozen pet lemmings or something. The sight and smell of the place reminded him of the old hospital laboratory and mechanical storeroom where he did his internship, which did little to help convince him otherwise with boxes and other things that he failed to notice in detail strewn around in an irresponsible manner. Now now he wasn't about to blame anyone because of this though it was true that his ex had been the one to suggest the whole pet idea. But Matt himself had done all the searching and the shop's web page showed nothing suspicious, trying not to freak out when the escort finally verified the security and held the door open for the doctor.

The first thing he noticed about the room was that it was much colder and larger than the rest. There were other people who were busy loitering around, some in white lab coats, some talking while others walked slowly in silence around containers lined along the wall and felt his heart missing a beat when he realised that there were humans inside them. There were six containers in all, one appeared to be empty. Stupefied, Matt stepped inside while the escort rattled away at his side, catching a few words like 'splice' and 'exotic' and 'DNA' and several animal names while he continued to stare into the containers; no, he wouldn't exactly call them humans considering they appeared to have animal-like features. Even the stupidest doctor could tell that. There was one with wings, even. What were they called again, spice? Splice?

"Interesting, perhaps I should had taken up science instead of medicine" Matt muttered under his breath, eyes scanning from one container to the next. The escort probably heard him for the tall man smiled and backed away to the walls. In all honesty, Matt hoped that these Splices were what they actually were, being a doctor gave him no position to deny that such experiments were unheard off or cannot be achieved. Why, back in college... Well, perhaps another time; he was looking for a pet, after all.

[Asphyxial_Aoi]

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----【--ｍａｔｔｈｅｗ · ｍ ａ ｔ ｔ · ｅａｓｔｗｏｏｄ--】
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Ａ Ｂ Ｃ Ｄ Ｅ Ｆ Ｇ Ｈ Ｉ Ｊ Ｋ Ｌ Ｍ Ｎ Ｏ Ｐ Ｑ Ｒ Ｓ Ｔ Ｕ Ｖ Ｗ Ｘ Ｙ Ｚ

ＭＡＴＴＨＥＷ ＥＡＳＴＷＯＯＤ


ａ ｂ ｃ ｄ ｅ ｆ ｇ ｈ ｉ ｊ ｋ ｌ ｍ ｎ ｏ ｐ ｑ ｒ ｓ ｔ ｕ ｖ ｗ ｘ ｙ ｚ

ｍａｔｔｈｅｗ ｅａｓｔｗｏｏｄ

[Asphyxial_Aoi]

[[ I just remembered I didn't told you that I was going to be gone this whole week, so sorry for the delay because I'm not ditching the rp at all!! I'm back, though now with writer's block ><;; ]]

Verr kept his grip firm on the human's shirt as he stared unblinking into those puzzled eyes, thinking about the reply he'd been given and couldn't help but wonder to what extent of 'rashness' did the human had in mind. Being a vampire the obvious thing that Verr would inflict upon instinct was to sink his fangs into the man's neck and devour every single drop of life within him. The second option would require him to drink the human's blood all the same but not to the point of killing him, for he was young and healthy and would make a great servant. No more crashing into graves and the morgue's door.

[Asphyxial_Aoi]

They call me Matthew Eastwood.
But I hate it with a passion, so refer to me as Matt. I'm only twenty five! Back off! I thankfully found a group of people who've accepted me. They call themselves The Demonic Crowd. I find that thinking about cigarettes, gunpowder and food help keep me sane during this horrid time. But so help me if I think about being nice, at least to non-group members. Big no-no. I may just crack up. Don't judge me, this is just who I am: silent, blunt, straight-forward and though I may look like I'm having a good time but will never hesitate to aggressive measures if situation required it. Or not. I don't want to be any other way. Hopefully, some of my background will help you understand why I'm like this: I'm a pharmacist. Yep, what's wrong with a Vegas boy with an MD? I still doing my internship and watching the business began to blossom when that damned virus wiped off all my customers away and the staffs as well. Who's going to sign my paycheck? Do you even realise how much I've lost?! And with all the demons crashing in like they owned the place? Well someone's gotta do something, and I'm not going to sit around like ducks and let my limbs go rusty. To the other members, I'm also known as The Medic. Duh. Oh, and by the way, this is me Not bad, eh?. After watching my family and friends die around me, I find it hard to believe in anyone but Asphyxial_Aoi