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 Posted: Thu Apr 03, 2008 11:11 pm
Somebody help me through this nightmare...
...I can't control myself...
For now I'll post my Character Bio. @.@
I'll get to posting something about me tomorrow.
...Somebody help me tame this animal I have become.
...The darker side of me...
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Posted: Thu Apr 03, 2008 11:13 pm
You beat me down and I crawl on the floor...  Master
[[.Nazi.]]
Asher
Dragon demon
Male
21
Semi-human
Dragon form
He has a small dragon that he tends to carry, a pet if you will.
Bisexual.
"Asher..." Was whispered from the dark depths of his memories. His body lay still on the cold brick of the sacred grounds, not a word, but a hiss... Swirling, heat, dark... Again his mind set into the black, a young womens voice calling his name as his mind clouded with past memories of who he was. A sharp pain to his hip brought his body screaming and his eyes open. He growled at the small dragon creature beside his body, the slender creature biting to wake it's Master. The creature gave a small hiss at the human eyes, knowing that it's Master wasn't sane yet. For a moment he sat, gathering ideas before his eyes returned to the cold gray color, and dragon appearance they were before he collapsed onto the stone.
A young man had taken to the streets, a brawl with his Father had drove him out. He grumbled and kicked at the dirt, knowing well that his father was right. "When are you going to take charge of your pathetic life, Asher!" His Father had screamed at him only moments before.
He was of Noble blood in a French town, east of Paris and all it's business. His hair was waist length and a light blonde, while his eyes a light hue of blue, the color enough to dazzle anyone who fell into his gaze, his skin pale like the early Winter snow. Yes, he was attractive, but he had no interest in settling down and finding the right person. He wanted to be free, and wanted to travel: knowing well that he didn't have enough time in life for foolish thoughts and childish dreams.
"It doesn't matter what he thinks! The selfish b*****d only cares about his money!" He cried out as his fist slammed into a nearby wall. He winced as the bone and flesh made contact with the rough brick, drawing a small sound from those pale lips. "What I would give to escape his grasp, have the power to travel and do as I please..." His sentence was cut short by a small voice in the ally. He turned and called out, "Who's there?"... A pause, "Show yourself!!!" He screamed, almost frightened, but staying calm and collective on the surface... That's all he could remember, that a and sharp pain to the back of the head...
___________________
Years, and years went by, memories slipping in and out of the seductress that haunted his dreams, his memories, and his mind. Countless nights he woke, screaming her name, the name fading as soon as he woke from the dream. He wanted to know who she was, wanted to know why she haunted him. He knew of his powers, his abilities, and his dragon, but he didn't know anything about where they came from.
So, Asher set out on a quest to find this seductress and where his powers came from, slaughtering any who opposed him. This quest had brought him to the Mansion where he quickly took over, searching for this women who was rumored to be near by. He established power and reign quickly, finding his life to be pointless a few years later. Now, slipping in and out of these dreams, getting closer to the answer of where his powers came from, and closer to the lady of his nightmares, he commands the mansion at full force.
...You lift me up and I'm begging for more.
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Posted: Thu Apr 03, 2008 11:16 pm
Roleplaying Samples:
Sample 1 taken from Bitter sweet opposition, located in The Mansion of the Masters Guild:
He smirked at the words, able to tell where the main voice chords were. He pinned his fingers to them, sliding them up an inch before the scalpel would plunge into the other’s throat. He’d grab for the scissors and cut the chords, the rod lifted once more, pressing to each end. He smirked in delight before he pulled the now cooling rod back, the scissors lifting and the scalpel lifting. It was time to sew up the incision… He lifted the needle up, and threaded it with the wire, soon pushing the tip of the needle into the skin, and making 14 tiny stitches along the wound. ‘There…” He stated before stepping back and looking over the work he had done. “I can still remove your tongue, if you’d like.” He chuckled out, knowing well the boy had no say in what would happen.
“Hm, maybe you have a few other things tucked away in your clothing, so I think you’ll do without for a few days. You have such a lovely body, I’m sure my men would love to get a glance at it, and touch it as well.” He said taking a step towards the boy, the blade that was stolen from before sliding over the tight leather to cut it. He beamed a bright smile as he removed the bits of cut leather as well as any other objects, taking them to another room. Once every thing was in the room he’d lock the door and toss the keys out the window, the keys to this door landing in the mud. Yes, he had a few other keys, but only a few knew where they were. He walked over to the stone table and lifted the silk, unbuckling the boy’s head so he could tie the white silk over where the boy’s eyes would be. A small yawn would be given as he pulled from his pocket a locking collar, slipping it around the falled assassin’s neck, adjusting it, then locking it in place.
Once the lock was on he finished unlocking the rest of the straps, stepping back a few feet so the boy could adjust and sit up. While the other did this all his own personal weapons were hidden among his person, ensuring that all was away so neither could be hurt in the room. “First off, I won’t kill you, just make you wish you were dead, I don’t kill things I tend to keep, and toy with, so don’t do anything stupid unless you want to suffer.” He grunted out, keeping a close watch on the blind boy while he got up.
Sample 2 taken from Bitter sweet opposition, located in The Mansion of the Masters Guild:
He smirked at the words, able to tell where the main voice chords were. He pinned his fingers to them, sliding them up an inch before the scalpel would plunge into the other’s throat. He’d grab for the scissors and cut the chords, the rod lifted once more, pressing to each end. He smirked in delight before he pulled the now cooling rod back, the scissors lifting and the scalpel lifting. It was time to sew up the incision… He lifted the needle up, and threaded it with the wire, soon pushing the tip of the needle into the skin, and making 14 tiny stitches along the wound. ‘There…” He stated before stepping back and looking over the work he had done. “I can still remove your tongue, if you’d like.” He chuckled out, knowing well the boy had no say in what would happen.
“Hm, maybe you have a few other things tucked away in your clothing, so I think you’ll do without for a few days. You have such a lovely body, I’m sure my men would love to get a glance at it, and touch it as well.” He said taking a step towards the boy, the blade that was stolen from before sliding over the tight leather to cut it. He beamed a bright smile as he removed the bits of cut leather as well as any other objects, taking them to another room. Once every thing was in the room he’d lock the door and toss the keys out the window, the keys to this door landing in the mud. Yes, he had a few other keys, but only a few knew where they were. He walked over to the stone table and lifted the silk, unbuckling the boy’s head so he could tie the white silk over where the boy’s eyes would be. A small yawn would be given as he pulled from his pocket a locking collar, slipping it around the falled assassin’s neck, adjusting it, then locking it in place.
Once the lock was on he finished unlocking the rest of the straps, stepping back a few feet so the boy could adjust and sit up. While the other did this all his own personal weapons were hidden among his person, ensuring that all was away so neither could be hurt in the room. “First off, I won’t kill you, just make you wish you were dead, I don’t kill things I tend to keep, and toy with, so don’t do anything stupid unless you want to suffer.” He grunted out, keeping a close watch on the blind boy while he got up.
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Posted: Thu Apr 10, 2008 1:06 pm
Who?
Well Deamoin of course, an old World War II Doctor. {Note: Roleplays involving the doctor will be dated.}
Pronounced: DAY-MON As in Mon-day
Deamoin is a well known Nazi doctor, specializing in forms of medical treatment, the surgical field, and chemical testing. For years he worked close to Josef Mengele at Auschwitz, a death camp centered for the Jewish population. For his work he has been awarded medals, patches, stars, and various other awards, only enhancing his ego. One of his most famous involvements happened to be in the field of pain study, and narcotics on the human brain. Every day a few dozen unlucky boys, and girls of all ages were brought to him. He'd begin with small tests of pain, minor cuts, forcing glass and dust into the wounds, and he'd progress to removing limbs without giving the subjects narcotics to ease the pain. They would scream, and scream and he'd only grin and intensify the pain to the subject of the twisted experiment. Eventually the patient would die, and more would be brought to him.
For now this will serve as a roleplaying character, information on attire will be provided. I will be drawing out my character, but I need time.}
Standing at a little over 6'1 he holds a dominant position in whatever hospital he is assigned to work at, caring little for the patients comfort, let alone feelings. His working papers say he's age 26, but some assume he's older, and much more twisted than he allows other's to believe.
Once the war came to an end he fled to Russia, and began to work for the Soviet union scientists studying the effects of Typhoid Fever in subjects. He worked closely with the top scientists, and doctors, further strengthening his love for his job. He lived watching people die every day, screaming and vomiting in extreme pain, but once more he could care less.
Attire: "On most days he could be found in dark leather pants, tightly clinging to his body, a white dress top, a long black tie tied around his slender neck, a SS officer cap, and his prized bit... The lab coat... The lab coat itself was a work of art: splattered in new blood almost every day, or a 'strange' white liquid. Most could only guess what this liquid was, but none dared ask the Doctor. Also on the lab coat was the array of Nazi badges, patches, medals, ribbons, and other various objects."
Other outfits include: An officer's uniform, lightly worn and blood covered, a dress outfit: dark black suit, etc...
*Note: Dated roleplays are roleplays set in a specific time i.e: WWII. My character will play in these, and only these, he is after all a Nazi doctor. D:*
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