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 Posted: Sun May 24, 2009 4:35 pm
 A man wakes up in the morning, dallies about his daily routine of brushing his teeth and preparing himself for a day of work. His breakfast is made for him and, on the way out the door, he kisses his son on the head and receives another by his lovely wife. He gets into a car and backs out onto the road of the upper-middle class suburban neighbourhood, embarking on what is for him, the beginning of any other day.
He does not know, but above him he and every other human on Earth is watched carefully and guided meticulously, sometimes with a gentle nudge and other times with a ground-shaking sign. Angels of all of the courts care for our world and nurture us, taking action so that one day we might share in the paradise that they themselves abstain from on our behalves.
Meanwhile, from below, agents of darkness are dispatched daily as well. These being feed off of the tiny evils of everyday life, the eye of a mentor turned upon his student and desiring the forbidden fruit of her innocence, the mind of a neighbour who covets the riches in the home next door, and a stranger in the night who preys on those who never should have strayed in the darkness.
For all their insignificance, the actions that we make everyday impact on the one thing that both sides want - our souls. Virtuous and pure, our souls are victories for the heavenly messengers above. However, should we allow our souls to become corrupt, fiends from our nightmares are ever nearby to snatch them away from us.
There are those who recieve messages from above, and these attempt to lead us towards salvations, imparting on us that which was told to them from the heavens. But doubt addles our minds too much, and fear, and even contempt, and more and more often we give our souls freely to those who feed off of the darkness. There are some who even give of their souls gladly, without hesitation, so that they may serve the dark masters while they still tread upon this earth.
The forces of heaven are divided now. Long ago mankind was gifted with free-will and, if we choose to give ourselves to the armies of darkness, there are many in the heavens who will not step in to stop us. For it is they who gave us the choice, and we who abuse it. There are some, however, who are not content with standing by. Angels of the lower courts, nearer to the everyday struggles of man, choose to step in when they can and fight back against the Demonic corruptions. But, they are too few and even their fellow Angels, Angels of the higher courts, believe that they are nearer to their own fall than to saving the Earth.
And so the armies of Hell grow every stronger as more and more succumb to the temptation and the fine promises of a life riddled with sin. The Armies of Heaven fight with the virtue and honor of martyrs, ferocious and divine, but is it enough to overcome the tide of Demons when those that they fight for too often make waste of their sacrifices?
The end is far from here, but the road will be long. What choices will you make?
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Posted: Sat Jun 27, 2009 10:48 pm
Te squirmed luxuriously in a serpentine fashion across the rich, smooth red sheets on the bed beneath her, freeing her naked body from the entrapping folds of fabric and sliding off the bed. Dismissive of the half-spoken protests of her bed mate, Te made her way to the nearby bedroom table cluttered with the assorted alcohols and fiendish paraphernalia that attracted so many to her side and began mixing a drink for her most recent suitor.
Her movements were machine-like while she mixed it, never having developed a liking for mind-altering substances she abstained from it except for special occasions when she deemed it necessary to forget the events of those evenings. She found it most useful however to inebriate her beaus, especially as the evening drug on and they either proved themselves worthy of the final step, or not.
She moved slowly back to the bed, drawing the trip out as long as she could in order to torture the poor soul and heighten the excitement of her return. She could feel the eyes on her form as she swayed forward, hips undulating with every careful step and then finally sliding in beside her playmate.
Thin sheets between the two of them hid none of his anticipation from her as her body settled against his. He sat up and wrapped his form about her and after a gentle kiss she placed the amber liquid of rich, warm drink in his hands. A coy smile from her was reciprocated by a thankful one from him, and she watched intently as he raised the finely shaped glass to his lips and drained it of its contents.
She smiled smugly as she took the empty glass from him, lay it on the end table, and then pulled him down beside her in a hurried frenzy. It didn't take long for the drug to take effect, Te watched the boy while they twisted and turned together, his hardened body becoming more and more relaxed beneath hers as he succumbed entirely to her.
Finally, sated, she rested atop him. His breathing told her that he was still awake and she raised a hand on his chest running circles around his defined muscled with her fingertips. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled down to her before whispering the three words she had been expecting.
"I love you."
She smiled up to him then buried her face in his neck and squeezed her arms about him.
"What is your love worth to me...?" She asked, rimming her strange and eery question with a tender affection that both conflicted and confused her partner. She continued before he could voice his chagrin.
"Would you... lie for me?"
"Yes." He replied easily, his voice slightly slurred from the weight of the sedative on his mind.
"Would you...steal for me?" She continued, resuming the trace of her fingertips along his chest.
"..Yes." He replied, slightly less eagerly than before.
"Would you... kill for me?"
He was silent then, struggling to either answer or find the course of her questioning. She smiled again in response to his silence and then widened it to a grin as her fingers trailed ever lower and elicited a sharp sigh from him.
"Yes." He said finally, catching her fingers with his and squeezing them surprisingly hard for the tranquilizer running through his system.
At those words she laughed, a harsh and mocking laugh that surprised him enough to release her hand and allow her to sit up from him suddenly. She continued to laugh as she leaned away from him and opened the drawer of the end table. Over her back she spoke through her mirth.
"Oh dear. Two weeks ago you came to me sweet, innocent and naive. I could have found choir boys with more heart for deviancy than you and now here you are swearing to murder in my name alone..."
Suddenly she turned round and swung herself over him, straddling him and pressing herself against him seductively. Her mouth was near his ears as she whispered warm breath against his neck.
"Would you give anything for me...?" She asked, mood shifting swiftly to a manner of seriousness that did away with any previous mirth.
"Yes..." Came the reply once more, woeful and afflicted as he realized the truth in it.
In response to his sincerity she nibbled at his ear playfully then began to work her way up his neck in small well kisses to his jaw, and then his mouth. There she kissed him long and hard, occupying his mouth and tongue while she pressed something small and cold into his hand.
In a moment she felt his body begin to tense and then trash as fully as his tranquilized body would allow. She felt the tell-tale tingle in her lips and then the electric current enter her body, excitement rising in her as it always did when the magic began. Her body, now a conduit for the boy's soul, shivered in response to the thrill, the power running through her momentarily before transferring to the small amulet cupped in both their hands. Despite her small stature it was easy for her to weigh his attempts to rise with her own body until finally he was gone.
Slowly she sat up, wiping her mouth, and turned away from his now lifeless body. He had been with her for two weeks, less than some others, and now she was done with him. Her interest was focused now intently upon the stone in her hands as she carried it reverently to her large mahogany dressing table and placed it carefully in a small black box. It clashed with the rest of the decor in her bedroom, strange symbols marking it top to bottom, but it didn't matter because she placed it deep within a lower drawer, safely secured within a hidden part of the drawer. There it would stay until she came for it and, until then, Te still had more work to do.
She left the room, buzzing for an attendant to come clean the mess, and made her way towards the mansion's indoor pool to exercise out the pent up sexual excitement reaping his soul had left her with.
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Posted: Tue Jun 30, 2009 11:46 pm
Te shifted and smiled, basking in the sunlight cascading down to where she lay on the hand woven patio lounger. The soft fabric beneath her nude form slid devilishly against her every movement as she relished in the act of sun bathing.
She had just set her ice-cold drink down next to her when she detected the presence of her ever dutiful butler. The elderly man stared straight ahead as he approached carrying a bundle in his arms, never glancing even once at his the beautifully shaped form of the heiress. He also did not stand in her light once he had reached her side, an offense she would not have taken lightly had it slipped his mind to be mindful. He held out his hands, transferring the bundle from his hold to hers.
Another set of invitations for the newest of galas held at one of the numerous Westwood estates.
"They are ready Madame, awaiting your personal touch."
Te lowered her eyes to the invitations, lingering on the names of the intended recipients. One caught her eye, a name she could recall from talk withing social circles and party conversations, one Spencer Lambrecht. This one she paused on, tapping the plain white card the smooth peach curve of her breast thinking.
It could have been chalked up to instinct, or curiosity, but she knew better. She had gifts beyond the basic senses of mortals, given in exchange for great sacrifices, and it was with one of these gifts she was drawn to the name.
She put the invitation back with the rest, passing the bundle back to her butler and dismissing him with a wave of her hand. She had no doubt that the call of the simple decorated invitational cards would attract all that they were sent too. Her parties were infamous, socialites world-wide checked their mailboxes and mail piles desperately for one of hers when word spread that she was holding another, and so all she had to do now was wait.
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Posted: Tue Jun 30, 2009 11:57 pm
 [Flip Side] You are cordially invited to the Bayside Manor of the Westwood estates.
Formal attire is required, as is proper etiquette amongst the presence of Lady Westwood.
Gates open at 9:00pm and close at 11pm, if you wish to attend be sure to arrive at the manor during these times.
Lady Westwood is looking forward to making your acquaintance.
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haphazardly parked Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Jul 01, 2009 4:55 am
 It is a large, sparsely decorated room. From the entrance, it is long and narrow. The wooden floor is polished and neat, and the walls are carved as windows, though there aren't actually any present. At the opposite end of the room, there is a small, rectangular carpet on which a large mahogany desk rests. It is not a warm, personable room- but then, it is not meant to be.
Tall and slender, lounging in a chair behind the desk, Spencer Lambrecht conducts all matters of business here. 'Matters of business', at the moment, consists of twirling a pen absently in slender fingers, a thoroughly bored expression on his face. He's been there for about an hour, doing the same thing - that is to say, nothing - the entire time. He sighs.
The monotony of the day is broken only when the large, well-oiled double-doors open silently and shoes click smartly against the wood. When the footsteps finally come to a rest, Spencer swings back around in the chair, resting an elbow on the desk and the other in his hair, and fixes his butler with an arched eyebrow.
"Well," he asks imperiously. A card is set on the table. "For you, sir," the man says before leaving the room. Spencer picks up the letter-opener.
It is elaborate, a mask set on an deep green background with a linear patter on it. Edge in gold and white, the bottom right-hand corner also reads hex. The opposite side of the invitation - for he knows that is what it must be - is gold, written in an fancy font.Go, the smirking man says, suddenly there. You don't need to tell me twice. I've been rather bored, lately. The other looks on, sadly."Christopher! Get the jet ready -we're flying to New Orleans."
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Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2009 2:05 am
 Tariel seductively glided through the Westwood Manor but on the other side of the demonic veil where humans couldn't see her. No need to alert her minion until necessary. An intricate amulet hung nestled between the ample cleavage of her breasts as she strode forward. The amulet glowed subtely as it was partially full but not as brightly as the succubus wanted. She was hungry for souls. Decent souls, not just the tainted ones she was given.
Her beautiful, black pumps clicked softly through the hallways as she found her way to the bedroom she wanted to reach. Stepping through the veil to become visible she blatantly stepped through the doors ignoring human etiquette and closing in on her prey.
"Hello Te," she purred seductively as she practically glided over to the woman sitting at her vanity table, "I must say you look delicious as ever."
Leaning down to the woman, Tariel's gown clung to her body moving with her, her demonically pointed incisors scraped against the young heiress' earlobe before moving to fully kiss the woman. The beautiful demons eyes flashed a lusty red as she pulled away, "I was quite disturbed not to recieve an invitation to your gala. Combine that with your blatant hiding of my talismen in its box; one might think you don't want me around Te."
Sliding up on the beautiful marble of the vanity table, Tariel buffed her nails, "Of course with the small meals you provide me, I probably wouldn't want to see me either."Tariel's Gown~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  A beautiful, pearly white limo pulls to a gentle stop in front of the Westwood Manor. A coiffed chauffeur exits and makes his way to the other side of his vehicle to aid in the exit of his patron. Beautiful peaches-n-cream legs encased in heels of satin gold exited the car only to be demurely covered by a beautiful satine dress that flutters to ground as their owners stands at her ful height of 5'5". Her creamy skin continues up to a beautiful face that captures the true essence of a Southern Belle. Her soft strawberry curls were pulled up in an intricate knots with golden ribbons woven through the mass as she carefully strode up the steps of the mano, invitation in hand.
Constance had to admit, she was very intrigued at recieving an invitation. True she had been invited to the Westwood Galas before, but she never got the impression that Teanna enjoyed her company very much but had simply invited her as a common courtesy to those who traveled the same social circles. And in Constance's opinion, Westwood Galas were more on the vain side of pleasurable parties rather then a decent gathering of socialites. Constance preferred decent gathering to promote her world causes then the gluttony of Westwood parties. Unfortunately, her mother was adamant that a gathering was a gathering no matter whose it was, and should be attended as per etiquette.
Handing off her invitation to the nearest doorman, she was quickly shown inside in which she smiled softly at the grand fairytale opulence Teanna Westwood was famous for and continued on into the main area of the gathering.
Tonight would be interesting.Constance's Gown
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Hillbilly Hikari Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2009 3:39 pm
Te tensed, as she always did, when her mistress made her entrance into her private chambers. It wasn't that the young heiress actually expected the Sucubus to adhere to human protocol, it was the gut clenching fear that always over came her in the conversations between the two of them. At any slip of the tongue Te could undue herself before the demon and reveal a weakness, the simplest of reasons for her to dismiss Te as her servant and take her soul in accordance with their bargain from years ago.
Everything Te had in this life, the riches, the power, the strength and abilities, it would all be taken away in less than a breath's time if she so wished it.
Fortunately Te had the sharpness of wit and swiftness of tongue to survive such dangerous encounters by, as they would say, 'flying by the seat of her pants.'
"Where would I have sent the invitation Tariel.. 'Attention: Mistress of Hell, area code 666'? You know these Galas are yours far more than mine, you needn't desire an invitation when you're the guest of honor."
Teanna moved to stand beside the woman then kneeled, drawing the symbol inscribed box from its place and placing it beside the demon. When she stood upright once more Te avoided the Succubus' eyes, as she often did, and reached instead for a bottle of expensive and rich smelling perfume to apply.
"I'm sorry your amulet doesn't exactly act as a hot fashion item, I prefer to keep it here out of sight and prying eyes in case suspicions were ever to arise and our operations here were to get some unwanted attentions. If you wish me to wear it however, I would of course comply."
When she spoke again her words carried with them the hint of a bite, but she leveled and ruled her tone to carry no malice. Malice would be the least of emotions she would ever harbor for this creature lest it be the last she allowed herself.
"But let me know so that I can join our guests. I've got a number of new names on the RSVP list that should prove to be better meals for you, oh ravenous one.
In fact one of them in particular should prove to be quite the source of nourishment for us both tonight. And if not it will at least be a rich source of entertainment."
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Posted: Wed Jul 08, 2009 8:05 pm
At a home in New Orleans, carrying the small invitation in his hands, Spencer Lambrecht abruptly found himself exiting the sleek, black car, handing the invitation to a doorsman, and walking through the arching entrance of Bayside Manor. He didn't want to be here; he was only here to chaperone someone else, to make sure he wasn't here - but it made him feel small and nervous nonetheless.
Though his butler had informed him he looked impeccable in the black dress suit, Spencer couldn't help but feel as small as the card he'd just handed to whoever was manning the door. There was a nervous look on that handsome face.
Dear God, what am I doing here?
-!
The glass of wine trembled almost imperceptibly in his grip. He took a sip, grimacing slightly. Spencer never had liked the taste of wine, but someone had just come up and practically shoved a glass in his hand and now he felt obligated to drink it - otherwise, it'd be going to waste, and Spencer always felt a little guilty when things were wasted. Even if it was just too-sweet wine that needed to be aired out a little more - and how would he know that? It wasn't as if he drank often --
"Hey there," a young woman addressed him, her words followed by a liberal gulp of whatever alcoholic beverage she was drinking. There was no way she was twenty-one. People these days...
"Uh, hi. Er, that is to say, good evening. I'm Spencer Lambrecht. "
There was a predatory gleam in her eyes, and a coy look on her face when she dithered. "Spencer Lambrecht... hm, I've heard that name."
"H-have you now..." Spencer managed in an uninterested tone. He looked around for safe cover, a reason to leave and found none. God, was it him or was it a little hot in here?
"Yes... you're the Spencer, the life of the New England parties. I'm Cheryl -- wanna dance?"
A positively terrified look skittered across Spencer's countenance and he shook his head, wine sloshing over the rim of the cup and onto his hand.
"I, uh - I have to go to the bathroom." Setting the glass on a table, he fairly ran.
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haphazardly parked Vice Captain
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Hillbilly Hikari Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Jul 10, 2009 12:20 am
"Such a flair for the dramatic, Te," the demoness practically purred, her human facade breaking to allow her throny tail slide around one of Te's arms, "I can't imagine what has you on the defensive."
"Besides you always know how to get ahold of me should you want me," she reminded the young heiress, her tail tightening refelxively giving her but a small taste of the thorns.
"Though I have to admit, I'm torn at the moment, "she sighed dramatically before releasing the young woman, "I've missed you, Te. So wanton, and unhibited. I wanted to savor your wares tonight. But as you have lined up dinner and dessert, I suppose I'll have to wait."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Constance's emerald eyes took in the view and the guests as everyone drank, danced, and drank some more. And yet no sign of their hostess yet. No doubt waiting for a grand entrance. One man in particular she noticed walking swiftly, almost scared, away from Cheryl. The infamous Cheryl, known through the social circles as easy, for lack of a better term. Rolling her eyes, she had to admit she was surprised to see such a good-looking man walk away from Cheryl.
Setting down her champagne flute on a server's passing tray, Constance elegantly walked towards the man who seemed to be standing just out of sight of the sexpot. Moving right in front of him she tried to smile reassuredly, "Are you all right? I noticed you...trying to get away, for lack of a better term."
"I'm Constance, by the way. Constance Ashford," she placed one gloved hand demurely on his shoulder in an effort to calm him down.
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