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The Dark Puppeteer:

Alright, so that I can first explain...I do have a VERY morbid mind, so be forwarned. This story line will be quite twisted. This is the premise of it:
There is a very dark, very ancient creature....an ancient vampiric sorcerer...although not many know exactly what he is...as he leaves little to be known about himself. He is the pupetteer and every hundred years, he comes out of his own realm to play his game....going out to find the most vicious and twisted of mortals and other creatures alike...weither they are mortal, vampiric, demonic...whichever they are....he finds them and sets in motion his plans. He hints at thier very desires being fullfilled if they play his game...and all he asks is for thier participation.
Once he gathers his players, he sets them loose on the city...letting out a wave of destruction upon innocents. But unbeknowings of these participants, he plays with thier own minds...twisting and manipulating them from the shadows.
He tells them that the winner and survivor of this game shall have all that they desire come to be granted...and then leaves them to unleash thier destruction on the town.
The storylines needs both psychos and victims, if you would like to play one....and we also need a puppetteer. Each player must be literate and NO ONE LINERS PLEASE. That is one of the most annoying things to deal with...and it messes up the mood of the storyline.
He sits in the background and twists and turns the plot...turning some of the pyschotics against each other...or sending them off to perform certian things.
For example: There may be a potential *pyschotic* That he wishes to be envolved in the game...someone who is on the brink of losing thier mind and becoming homocidal. He might send one of the psychotics to perform a certaint ask that would drive them over the edge and then he would *recruit* them into the game.
Rules:
1. No one liners.
2. Be Literate. These first two should be common sense.
3. No God Moding. even magikal creatures can be harmed and killed. But...You can not just kill a player. You have to speak to me and that player and get thier permision before that can happen.
4. Make sure you keep yourself updated on the events and try to keep up with the storyline. If there is a reason that you can not continue for a time, let me know and we'll think of something to work out.
5. Do not make major actions or movements for a player, unless if it is discussed before hand with me and the player.

The Puppetteer:
Sex: Male
Race: vampire, sorcerer, ?
Appearance: He had long black hair that hangs down to his waist and sharp red eyes that seem to capture your very soul when glanced upon....he had fair features and is slim, but well built.
Abilities: He can shift into shadows and control and manipulate them and use them to transport from place to place. He has a home that is only reached through a portal that is opened by his own magic...and once you get inside, it seems as though it might be an old castle, but there are no exits except through his own portals that he forms. He has a certain twisted artistic nature...and has an obsession with beauty...which is why he keeps up his appearance well.

He has also taken a fascination with one of the psychos, human but her demeanor is far from human, her name is Kita Amorei, one of my psychotic characters.

I will post my two characters here and if you are interested in playing in this storyline, PM me and I'll let you know if you can play.

The beganning of the storyline will start with all the psychos being summoned to meet at this morgue, unknown of each other being summoned as well. And that is where the puppetteer will first speak with them once they arrive.

The players that we need are the puppetteer, psychotics, and victims. Oh...and please, please, please...do not create victims soully to be the *damsil in distress* Storylines suck that way. If you want to create a female character that is a victim and she is victimized...that is fine, but she has to have a story, a background...and one of two things will happen. More than likely, she'll be killed or mamed...or she will become a fellow pyschotic. So keep that in mind. I don't want any pathetic, helpless chics in here just to get thier thrills off it.
I need to make one more note about the Puppetteer. He is looking for the strongest...the most twisted and tormented of minds. He feeds off of the torment, chaos, and destruction that these pyschos bring. He wants to choose a *winner* to devour...adding to his strength and power. Of course, there will be a twist to the end...but I have not decided exactly how I want the ending to go.

I hope that ya'll like the storyline and I hope it kicks off and goes well...I think it can be a really fun storyline to play out. biggrin

~Nehmahati Kerosna (Kala)

((yeah, I have your profile smile I just need to find someone to play the puppetteer...and get a few more pyschotics....so if you know anyone who would want to play the puppettteer or would like to play a psychotic, let them know and tell them to PM me or write here. biggrin ))

((Alright then biggrin Now we need like one more psycho and someone to play the Puppetteer...if anyone wants to play him, PM me please with a sample of an into for him...so that I can see how you play him smile Don't feel intimidated by this though...I just want to make sure that whoever plays the Puppetteer is literate biggrin ))

Emily giggled.....her firey red curls bounced around her head.....as the drunken man before her stood between her legs....his hands starting to roam up her legs beneath her skirt. She might have had a demeanor of a little girl....but she had the body of a woman. She wore a pretty red baby doll type dress....tight just until under the bust, then flowed out around her, ending just above her knees...her shoes were black with buckles and she wore white laced socks beneath. Her brilliantly blue eyes were set against her pale skin.....she was holding a large lolly in one hand and her other slender hand rested on her leg....her feet swinging back and forth. She giggled again as the man grunted.
"Silly little man.....what are you doing?"
She asked...tilting her head to one side...her curls shifting with her movement....she heard him chuckle and then grunt...his fingers twitching slightly in his drunken stupor...she giggled again.....flickering her tongue out to lick her colorful lolly......she suddenly grabbed the man's throat and began to force the lolli down his throat.....she giggled as she heard him gag and try to push her away....but she was stead fast and did not budge....her feet swinging...she tilted her head back and forth....her lips widening in a large smile.....his eyes had become wide and lifeless now and she frowned softly.....and started to tug at her lolly.....but it wouldn't budge. She wrapped her legs around the man's frame and placed her enclosed tiny little fists on her hips as she looked at the man with a scolding look.....the other people in the bar had started to noticed what had happened and started to scream and scramble out of the bar.....
"I know that my lolly tastes good...but you can only have a taste! Give me back my lolly you silly man!"
She frowned and tried to tug at it again....but it wouldn't budge....she tilted her face upward...one brow knitted as she lifted one slender finger to rest on her lower lip, as if she were thinking. She spotted a knife in the sink below the bartop and she grabbed it....a smile broadening her lips......she took the sharp edge to the man's throat and messily started to saw away at his neck.....the blood pouring through his open wound.....when she finally cut her lolly free, she kicked the man's nearly decapitated body to the floor and bounced off of the bartop....lifting her blood soaked lolly to her lips and passed a tongue over it.....she skipped out of the bar.....people still scattering around her.....she twirled around....her dress spinning around her......and then she set out down the street.....
Blood speckled her pretty dress and she thought that it looked delightful in the light from the street lamp. OH! She had to meet the nice puppet man at the old building...the one who had promised her all the dresses and lipsticks and lollly pops that she wanted. She let out a squeal of delight as she skipped along the street...finally coming to the building that she had been instructed to go. It was the place were they had all the dead people. She saw that the back door was swung open and she grinned, sure that the strange puppet man was already here.
She skipped inside....twilring around ever so often...until she reached the morgue room and she saw the woman standing there against the wall. She gasped and ran over to her and took up a piece of her hair and started to twist it around in her slender fingers.

"Are you here to meet the puppet man too? Did he promise you lots of pretty dressies?"

She squealed and skipped over to the table where she had catch sight of several pretty shiny sharp objects...her eyes widening and she giggled in delight as she had found something else to occupy her mind for the moment.

Grey lay huddled in the shadows, her eyes staring blankly into the darkness. "Please God," she whispered, her fear rising, thick and choaking in her throat. "Please," she repeated, knowing she should be quiet, knowing that any sound she made could alert one of them to her presence.

So the tired girl crumpled further into herself, and tried to block out the screams of the dying. She tried to forget the images of carnage, of insanity and senseless pain, of her family ripped to shreds by an unspeakable evil. "God," she said again, her eyes welling up with tears, "Have mercy."

He steadly walked upon the face of the Morgue, his nose twitched as he picked up the sweet aroma of death as his eyes widened a split second before they fell to there relaxed posistion. He stood in front of the place looking upon the face thinking of everyway and every point, images bounce and rattle in his head but his body and face was cold and still. His breath never escaped from his lips and the only skin that appeared in the faint light was the lower half of his face. The chains clinked together in the wind and he starts toward the Morgue once agian with a steady pace.

(( I will be posting soon! I have been having some personal problems lessening my free time! My apologies for that! ))

"The stench... Unbearable... I have drowned myself in the pool of my own sorrow and sins... I am the God of a world I never wanted to create..."


But his world is all around, putrid and dead yet beautiful like the face of a frozen fairy. The throne he stands on has skulls at the end of the long arms. Candles illuminate what seems to be an endless throne room. The lights are only there to shred darkness into enigmatic shadows.

"What dwells within my mind? What dwells within my existence? How has my soul been taken from me so swift and agile... I never felt it float away..."


He taps his huge nails on the arm of the throne. He opens his eyes. Hell's fire burns within them, casting pale life on the spider-web covered walls. He closes his eyes and vanishes into a cloud of fog only to appear wondering around the northern dungeon. The doors of his throne room need not be opened... For shadows are his gates.

"I prey on their helplessness... I shall devour the hate and confusion that will want to consume their minds... I will feast on their every last drop of oozing sanity from their wretched brains. They will be my puppets... And I shall be... their puppeteer..."



The morgue was silent and cold as a tomb... In many ways it was a tomb, many corpses lost human form in this place, under a bone saw and many, many scalpel cuts...
In the dark throne-room, the puppeteer watched the small gathering within the morgue walls. A huge gold-framed mirror enchanted with some strange Wicca spell was showing vivid images of the cold and gloomy corpse storage-room.

"Ah... they have been assembled. Slaves to nothing but their most burning of desires, they heeded my calls of promise. They want earthly things... Maybe love... Or freedom..."

The mirror centered on a pale woman's face and all the surface of the strange magical object turned a blood-red. The puppeteer stood up and neared the mirror.

"But you... you unlike all others understand the beauty of every spilled drop of blood, maybe only surpassed by an angel's tears..."

He caressed the beautiful face on the cold bloody mirror that was now dripping and staining the old carpet in the gigantic throne room.

"You are an angel... And I need to make you cry..."

He turned away from the object that dissolved into the darkness like a spooked black cat on a rainy night... He sat in the large throne, pounding his fist on the skull-endings of the chair's arms.

"Let us proceed... For the hour of shattered promises and broken dreams is at hand... A new beginning to the oldest game this puny world has ever seen..."