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A Life of Chains

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Tags: Master, Slave, Supernatural, Fantasy, Roleplay 

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Alaric Aster Grace

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Wonderland Wanderer

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PostPosted: Thu May 21, 2015 9:03 am


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❝ We are all born to die. ❞


I am Alaric Aster Grace.
But I demand that you call me Alaric or Al.
I'm not that old, I am merely twenty-six. That's all that really concerns you. Don't ask me how old I really am.
Are you blind? I'm obviously a warlock. Don't you dare call me a wizard, or a witch, or a magician. Say it out loud, "w-a-r-l-o-c-k, warlock".
Here's an easy one, I'm bisexual, but I lean towards the boys.
You really want to know that? Fine, I was born on June 21st.


X X❝ M o v i n gXXXo n. ❞

Do the measurements, I'm 6'1".
I don't look it, I know, but I'm 155 lbs.
I suppose I have to say every last detail, my hair is golden like the sun. If I hear you calling my hair "blonde" I will not be happy.
Look closer, my eyes are emerald green. Not grass green or some other putrid color, only the beauty of an emerald can capture the beauty of my eyes.
Of course you can't see them, I hide them. I have a large tribal tattoo on my back and a deep scar running across my chest.

X X❝ I ' m Xs e l f i s hXb e c a u s eXIXc a nXb e . ❞


I want a slave with leather or velvet.
Painted pink, lime, magenta, and/or dark blue.
And a few other things, like a crown, pan, crescent moon, paint pallet, and/or gun.


X X❝ I fXy o uXm u s tXk n o wXm o r e. ❞

People say I tend to be a manipulative a*****e that will always get what he wants. And it’s true. I always know what I want and how to get it. What happens when I don’t get my way? You can probably guess. I go into a rage. I tear down trees, rip paintings off of stands, and punch holes in walls—nothing out of the ordinary. But I clean my messes up. I’m not a slob. Most of the time, I’m cold and disconnected, but when I want you to think I need you I can spin the prettiest tales to get you wrapped around my finger. Then I'll throw you away like yesterday's leftovers. My emotions are highly volatile; I don’t know what to say. One minute I’m cuddling my pet hedgehog and the next I’m ripping into the jugular of an innocent doe. The only problem is that I get clumsy and disorganized. You would be too if you were hundreds of... Well, let's just say you would be too if you've had as eventful of a life as I. Bottom line is, if you’re a sissy then I suggest staying away from me. If you’re in the mood to play, you know where I am.

You're so nosy. Fine, I will tell you that my past has no importance to me. It should have no importance to anybody else either. Why bother ourselves with what cannot be changed when we can live in the present? I have so many years under my belt that I wouldn’t even know where to begin this story. Amway, I believe that mystery adds to the appeal of a person. Why spend time with someone when you already know everything about him or her? B-o-r-i-n-g. I say, keeping people in the dark adds to your allure and makes everything more tantalizing. Plus, nobody can tell if you’re lying about yourself if you never tell the truth.

Does it bother me that I don’t know who my parents are? Not in the slightest. Do I care that I grew up in an orphanage? Not particularly. Does it matter that the headmistress sexually abused me from day one? Not one bit. I don’t believe that my past defines me, so don’t you dare try to tell me I have some deep-rooted psychological problems from childhood trauma. I won’t have any of that b***s**t. Sure, I enjoy playing with people’s emotions. I live for the thrill of getting people riled up and then shooting them down. More lies come of my mouth than truth. But those are personal decisions of mine, not some subconscious crap.

Someone may have influenced these impish tendencies, though. There was a boy at the orphanage. He was… Marvellous. No, he wasn’t my first love in that gooey romantic sense, but I did love him. I looked up to him as my brother and my alpha. I aspired to be every bit as cunning as he was. We spent every day together and even bunked with each other. I don’t know his name or where he ended up. When I finally turned of age and escaped that blasted orphanage in 1776… I mean… Well, the year doesn’t matter. The point is, we went our separate ways. All that remains of him is memories, those piercing eyes staring back at me whenever I close mine.

Times were tough when I became an “adult”. I did a few odd jobs here and there. Chimney sweep, paperboy, butler, and whatever else I could land myself in. From my job as I butler I was introduced to a strange business of domination and submission. Being powerless to power-hungry fools made me realize how thrilling it must have been to control another living being. After years of working as a “companion” to the rich, I saved up enough money to disappear for a couple of years. I built a house in the middle of the forest where nobody unwanted could bother me. (I may have amassed myself quite a few enemies throughout my days. That’s a story for another time.) This solitude has served me well, but I am growing bored. It is time I seek out a little pet of my own, somebody to call me master and bend to my will, entertaining my twisted soul.

Quit bothering me, I'll say that I like:
ღ Old Movies
ღ Hunting
ღ Tea
ღ Ballroom Dancing
ღ Mischief

I'll tell you that I don't like:
✘ Crybabies
✘ Physical Exertion
✘ Cats
✘ Vegetables
✘ Incompetence


X X❝ F i n a l l y ,XW e ' r eXn e a r i n gXt h eXe n d. ❞

A few last things so you don't ask any more questions, I can do all of the usual things: levitate, walk through solid surfaces, and create potions. The annoying thing about being a warlock is being bound to nature. I can only use my powers when I'm being surrounded by at least three of the four elements (fire, earth, water, and air). It's lucky for everyone that I don't care for travelling outside much.

The person that works my mind is not me, but Wonderland Wanderer.
PostPosted: Sun May 31, 2015 1:38 pm


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❝ The truth will set you free - but first it will piss you off ❞
 

I am Karina Dorner 
But I will let you call me Meg, Kitty, Sparky 
I'm not that old, I am 26 
Are you blind? I'm obviously (Species) 
Here's an easy one, I'm Bi, but I prefer men 
You really want to know that? Fine, I was born August 16th
 

X X ❝ M o v i n gXXXo n. ❞ 

Do the measurements, I'm 5'6" 
I don't look it, I know, but I'm not telling! 
I suppose I have to say every last detail, my hair is strawberry blonde - but I dyed it years ago to the pink you see 
Look closer, my eyes are bright baby blue 
Of course you can't see them, I hide them. I have a few moles, like anyone else
 

X X❝ C a l l Xm e Xs e l f i s h ,XIXd o n ' tXc a r e. ❞ 
 
They gave me leather 
And colored it pink, magenta, dark blue 
And from it they hung paint pallet, piano, music note, pan
 

X X❝ I fXy o uXm u s tXk n o wXm o r e. ❞ 

I come across as Uhhh...well, I'm pretty laid-back and relaxed, I suppose. I like to just have fun and enjoy life, I don't take much seriously. With the sort of life I have, what's the point? I mean, I have a heart, and a soft spot for animals and stuff. But I'm not exactly a bleeding heart that's going to cry over every sob story I hear. I guess I'm too cynical for that, I don't really believe in god or in the 'goodness of people' or anything like that. But I'm not really abrasive or sarcastic, got used to just pretending I wasn't and now that's sort of a habit that's stuck on me. Uh, what else...I'm not really shallow, but I'm not really...I don't have some deep, dark past or some tragic soul or something. I had shitty stuff happen and I worked around it and I didn't really come out on top, but I'm not...really at rock bottom, I guess? I dunno how to say it. I just don't see the point in dwelling on things, it doesn't really do much other than give you wrinkles and gray hair. 

Quit invading my life, It went Eh. I came from a middle-class family, I guess lower-middle-class? I was clean, had food, got good grades and had friends at school. I wasn't some delinquent. I actually sort of wanted to go into vet school and was keeping up my grades to try to get scholarships since there was no way in hell my family could afford to send me. Besides, I had an older brother and he was getting some scholarship for football, so I sort of felt like I had to follow in his steps, or example, whatever. My parents divorced when I was sixteen, my mom never really liked being a 'mom', and we stayed with my dad after she took off. So no, I don't have daddy issues, thanks for asking.

Honestly, not much changed. It was quieter without all the fighting, that was really it. Everything else stayed the same and we didn't really notice much different around the house. Although, a few days before I graduated high school, and my brother had already gone off to college, my dad hung himself in the bedroom. I found him and that was sort of a shock. People keep saying I was screaming, but I don't really remember that at all. I got sent to live with some friends, didn't have any relatives nearby to go to and I didn't want to anyway. We lived a few miles from the city and I borrowed my friend's car to get a job.

The job I got wasn't ideal, but yeah. I started out as a server for a strip club. Not a dancer or anything, I just put on a skimpy outfit and got the men all boozed up. Not too awful. I made plenty of tips. After a while I was asked if I was interested in dancing and figured I could make good money, so I said 'sure'. Not my best idea, but for a while it wasn't the worst, at least. I did make a lot of money, especially in tips, and I just didn't really tell anyone where I worked. Just that it was a night job and no one really cared enough to ask me, which was fine with me. I lost touch with my brother, he didn't really want anything to do with home after dad was gone, so it wasn't like I had family close to me.

After a few years of that, I was approached one night as I was going to my car, asking if I wanted to make a living a lot better than the one I had now. Obviously I was curious and asked what he meant. Essentially, I ended up being a 'slave', thinking it was more like private employment or something like that. Well, wasn't I stupid. I've had...four masters. The first was some old, perverted man, but at least he treated me okay. The second, his son when daddy dearest died, was more of the physical sort and I got a few scars from him that are easy to hide and nothing major that traumatize me. The next one I got sold to was a husband and wife team that sort of more wanted a maid that looked good than anything else, so that was okay. And then the last one...yeuch. I like sex, but....yuck. And now I'm here, waiting to see if anyone feels like a slave like me. Fun fun.
 

Quit bothering me, I'll say that I like:  
ღ money 
ღ dancing
ღ any sort of music
ღ sex
ღ flowers
ღ primping - makeup, dressing up, all of that
 

I'll tell you that I don't like:  
✘ sad movies 
✘ romance
✘ being hit
✘ oranges
✘ manual labor
 

X X❝ F i n a l l y ,XW e ' r eXn e a r i n gXt h eXe n d. ❞ 

A few last things so you don't ask any more questions, I can (powers/ abilities.) 

Yes, there is some side things, like I can play the guitar, or at least I like to play it. Uh, dancing, maybe not ballroom sort, but...yeah, dancing. Got some other talents I can't really list, I don't think it's appropriate? I can cook, fed myself for years after all, and I'm good with books and numbers - again, had to budget myself. Doesn't mean I like it. Oh! I'm pretty good at medical stuff and I like to give massages, except when my hands start to cramp.

Romance. I hate romance. Chick flicks, rom-coms, professions of love - all of it. I hate it. Makes me nervous and angry and regretful and just...ugh. No. I tend to flick my thumbs together when I'm lying or just plain nervous, and I lick my lips when I'm bored, or hungry, or anxious...hey, I'm human, okay?
 

The person that works my mind is not me, but Color Me Fubar

Color Me Fubar
Crew

Celebrating Wife

22,200 Points
  • Pine Perfection 250
  • Who's The Boss Now? 300
  • Flatterer 200
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