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Etched in Stone

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About Etched in Stone

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  • Birthday 12/15/1991

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  • Location
    Depths of the Underworld
  • Occupation
    Writer, Poet, Musician, Composer, Student

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  1. Category four hurricane scheduled to hit NC and I’m here. Not so much my city, but just so you guys aware.

    Shouldn’t slow me any longer than I’ve been posting. But, heads up.

    1. DarkHorse
    2. Twitterpated


      It's down grading now, but flooding is still a risk. I think y'all are far enough north now that it seems to be shifting west. Still, be safe. 

  2. Etched in Stone

    The Shell of Great Sins

    “So! Why’d you leave your friends behind? They didn’t seem to like the performance much, and I’m sure they feel awkward with half the vampires in Tia staring them down. You might even need their help,” Her last few words stung his gut a million times, had she known of the Pureblood personally; the only material substance the Undead required was lifeforce. Yet, a soft grin allowed her statement to pass the time being before a reply was summoned. The demon relics caused his existence here on Valucre that made him set out to the distant lands, maybe Lein exchanged too much information with the middle man and was digging himself deeper into inevitable trouble? Unbothered by how things may turn out for better, or worst the situation almost seemed to go too - smoothly, the Vampire was not oblivious to such façades as this. He allowed the winged one to continue and assume he was inadequate. If he stayed two steps ahead of her premeditatively she'd been dead by now. She was vital to the cause for now, though her dead blood was deemed ungood his mental desires wished to see her bathe in her own pool. Giving in to the unwordly was rather, just up his alley. In order to shell away those emotions, Leinhart had to maintain his role as the humble beast. "You're right ….. Here, we are dearly outnumbered if some outbreak were to occur, we all would be surrounded yes?" His careless tone fluctuated in it's sarcasm. He didn’t trust more or less what she had to tell him. "As I can't afford any more unwanted attention. Let's say, I may have some business for the Demon." He partially lied. It was after those last words he remembered he left the goods with Quin and the group upstairs or above surface. Judging how he no longer heard the music or felt the Coven's presence drift further and further until only their voices bounced from the walls of the tunnels. May had to feel some sort of security about herself, or perhaps Leinhart‘s lackadaisical, unamused character was enough to consider he was no threat. Or perhaps the undead creature was far more capable of handling herself? Maybe she had the master plan already devised and the Choisel Count was walking into his own trap? Unsure on how things may played out, he was almost positive they were headed on the right track to meet with Benny. They whipped and turned, passageways were no longer directly ahead but all around as they passed an intersection. By the growing dank aroma he discerned their journey had almost been complete. His goldenrod glitters remained straight ahead with May in plain sight to his astonishment, some sort of run-down destroyed remains of a building stood tall skyrocketing upwards. This one had to be La Belle Peches. They walked from underground to what Leinhart assumed was the outdoors with no idea in his mind how they made it out in the first place with no evident escape. Upon further inspection it would seem the growing stench had come from a throne composed of piled corpses, bits and pieces from an array of many different beings. A throne he wished for himself back at the Chateau. Ohh, the beauty of being a full bred monster. His eyes would not believe his sight, the more they neared the clearer the shadowed silhouette came to view. May didn’t have to open her mouth to mention, he knew otherwise the one standing in the darkness ahead just had to been the Benefactor. His dead heart should have pulsed a rhythm upon realizing such, Leinhart felt alive again or was it just the relief from chancing himself all the way down in an underground tunnel with a stranger who already knew more of him than he did of her? Still, if tables turned sour and there was no reasoning with the great demon Benny then Leinhart was prepared for any and all repercussions. He stood back allowing May the introductories the whole time staring the Benny down. They had got to been kidding, right!
  3. Etched in Stone

    Welcome to the Festival of Blades (Ursa Madeum)

    Havent gotten back to me on that, yet? @Diremast
  4. You’re a pretty good writer man, welcome to Choisel. Excited to see what goes on. 

  5. Etched in Stone

    House of Choisel, BEWARE OOC

    My discord hasn’t been working. Ahhh been a busy week, please welcome him. I’ll be coming back shortly with replies.
  6. Etched in Stone

    Chateau De Choisel | ENTER AT RISK

    What went from a potentially long day from beginning with the mysterious cat Cariella and Quin, then the unexpected arrival of that Kenric Vampyre turning down Choisel’s preposition, back to the Doctor’s near suicide from whatever she ingested. There was not a dull moment in the day from Alistair and Martis‘ brief confrontation; if the soul was curious the day been filled by far with unorderly conduct and behavior. Madness and chaos. Something Leinhart thrived to continue spreading under Choisel rule and order. However, in a wasted effort it was enough for a span of twenty-four hours to swallow with entire dissatisfaction. Half the tasks on his agenda was incomplete. His apology to the Doctor for what occurred just two days ago went unquoted, not that he forgot his act of insatiable thirst for her that sprung from no where, that wasn’t the case. He just never seemed a proper setting to do so without interruptions. “I come for thee now, my Countess.” His dark contrasting black and crimson red coat would be there as he stood, standing in front of the doorway to the Master bedroom. His hands stuffed in the pockets of his coordinating slacks as he stepped further into the room with a brilliant goldenrod look upon him, searching to find Tatia lying in their bed in her nightgown and a precious jewel of sorts emanating great sentiments upon her chest. Of course she’d sniff him out before he even got close to the bed, but still, Leinhart had moved through the room as without any sound. To his own surprise her body seemed to be relaxing, which was good considering it hadn’t been long since her resurrection on planet Valucre. He slid towards her end of the deluxe mattress noting her shut eyes and her still body, almost as if she was sleep. He popped himself a squat next to her, the bed sinking in plushness to his own comfort. He leaned towards her chin simultaneously placing his hands just above her bust, opened his mouth ajar and extended his slithery serpent’s tongue. Pink and mucosal having extended nearly six inches outwardly, which at this point was no telling just exactly what Master Kronos had in store next. Riding his tongue gently from the bottom edge of Tatia’s chin, all the way to the lobe on her left ear he stopped, the top half of his body hovering her lying form. Ironically, this was one of several ways the Pureblood marked territory. He whispered to her softly his breath a reminder of his favorite scent - green mint. His affection and love for her was not like that of a sibling, and though he disdained the feeling he knew not to express so carelessly- since her day of arisen he found himself compelled to care for her even more than ever. “I must apologize; how long it took to resurrect your living flesh. Tatia .” His tongue seemed to always roll in his pronunciation of her name. He removed his hands from her chest sitting with his back erect upon the edge of the bed and retracted his slither with a smile she has yet to seen. It was different from the rest of his half-assed grins she had seen one thousand times over another thousand years. No, this one was felt with true emotions. He cared for his sister more than what was being expressed and it was the monster within whom he could no longer hide and deny, that kept those once heartfelt feelings at a distance locked and sealed no longer to be the Lein’ she once remembered. Happy, loving, and full of surprise.
  7. Etched in Stone

    The Shell of Great Sins

    As Leinhart was escorted off through a hole in the wall the eight Vampyre sat amongst themselves in comfort enjoying what little they could from the Oaxaki performance. The group from the Glen weighed down to being four men and the other four women. The dirty blond Martis was in charge of these lesser Vampyre. Even seated at the table with the Coven from Choisel his icy blue jewels bounced to and fro the stage, the table of followers, then ever so occasionally back at the hole again with each minute that passed wondering just how long Leinhart’s and May’s conversation could last. Unlike the Coven Martis was well familiar with Jonothan not so much to known him personally, but the occasional flyers throughout the city whenever he traveled was enough to understand just whom the man was as well as his influence amongst the Tians. Music continued pumping and pulsing throughout the proximity so much his ears felt as if they began to bleed from all the noise. The Keeper was relieved on the other. It was not so often they were found out in the public, mingling in a social atmosphere like the human kind. Still, he was surprised to see people peacefully coexist, especially after recent outbreaks and raids nearly causing the entire city to go on twenty-four hour lockdown. Until, the vigilant vampyres were suppressed and dealt with accordingly. Martis knew well if they were ambushed at a time like this, the tide of battle wouldn’t been so much in their favor. Not unless, they somehow gained the service and assistance from the other Vampyres attending. No telling how the others felt about the uprising, tyrannous House of Choisel however.
  8. How are you? Thanks for checking out my char profile lol.

    Perhaps, I can interest you in joining us at the Chateau for Choisel vampires?

    1. Etched in Stone

      Etched in Stone

      Welcome to the site btw!

    2. TimeKeeperChronos


      Haha, thanks. I'll check it out, but I have to get a character out first lol.

    3. Etched in Stone

      Etched in Stone

      Indeed, indeed. 

      My name’s Anthony btw. Hopefully, see you around man. 


  9. Etched in Stone

    Chateau De Choisel | ENTER AT RISK

    Their first cleansing since arrival. Occupying the Glen was still fresh with just one week since the Dark lord’s awakening. Almost high past noon, those poorly adjusted to the glowing moon and notion there was no sun during daylight hours was melancholic. The hour for cleaning was finished. The crew of humans gathered their supplies and rushed back to the dormitories in their dismissal. These particulars did anything, day in and out to please the Count in exchange for the gift of immortality. They were pawns, pieces to the Chess board and used accordingly. Not everyone would be deemed worthy to saturate themselves in the Pureblood of Choisel. The Patriarch glanced one final time around from his perch on throne, despite his nonchalant half lidded gaze he couldn’t have been pleased no greater. He beckoned forth a fingernail to Okbar’s service. Since the elven’s arrival he hadn’t quite seen much of him in over a decade, yet his dull enthusiasm was as if they never parted ways after all. Leinhart sucked at his tooth before spreading his maw to speak in his mint breath a carefree tone void of any vibrance. “As for the situation up stairs, I seek that you handle it. Which reminds me, I’ve kept Tatia waiting this long.” The General obliged without further thought bored from all the paper duty he completed for the day, assessing workers, checking the armories inventory of supplies, for now; his main job had been keeping every thing and every one in tact in conditions, necessities and so forth. The Hundred Thousand legionnaires majority buried their selves in the cemetery dormant until necessary times called for their emergence. Knowing indeed what the Master had summoned him for, not to mediate any confrontations but figure it’s cause for attention. Whether that meant charging both vampires for their committed sins banishing them to the Feeding Sanctum thirty nights unfed, without any outside contact or flaying a pound of flesh from their bones. Unsure of his findings the light armored elf courted his departure until later and headed out into the darkened corridor adjunct the Great Hall. “You’ve my word, Master Kronos.”
  10. Etched in Stone

    Chateau De Choisel | ENTER AT RISK

    There was no thing as a cheap-shot or low blow for a supernatural keen to detect such. While it was not expected for the Istefri boy to endure the punch so lightly. Only a leech frenzied in so much lust to shut everything out when drinking rather. Very few could control such possessions and for one who resisted to drink from the blood of a living organism, symptoms were always simple to depict. Even when wronged, Martis was always right. His assumptions wouldn’t fell any shorter. All the while caught in combat against Alistair, his main reason for seeking out the Clinic in the well-being of Quin quickly left his mind. Alistair was slung from the doctor like a rag doll gripped in the grasp of a child who all of sudden was disinterested with the toy. Just as the intensity was dying, so did his Will to inflict further harm on the Guardian. Martis was least of the fighting type in Choisel, the Keeper was more a negotiator of sorts in his mind abilities to persuade and alter judgment or emotions yet even then, still decided to throw his guard up! Oh how bad he couldn’t wait to inform Leinhart of his discoveries. With little attention focused as he turned his back against the adopted one, dark blue loafers carried him towards the lying Quin and the Vampress tending her wounds Mary whom he yet had any time to hold a conversation with. Just as he essentially neared, he was launched into the air by some telekinetic force from behind by no other than Alistair. Things would have been pretty ugly from here had the Cervantes been a complete mortal being. Suffocation would have been more likely if so. His deep crimson reds had widened, as if the sudden jerk and jolt did catch him by surprise. His mouth gapped even wider the higher he was pulled, squeezing his lungs from air, the intangible pulley seemed to do its job well in his enemy’s favor. Up until, he contorted his own neck a full three-hundred and sixty degrees for a full view of his attempted assailant. Then, the tables were turned. “Seems you are the even bigger fool. You’ve no self knowledge. There’s no way you can Kill, what’s already dead. I demand you release me, Istrefi boy.” Instead of falling lifeless as he should trembling for air he broke out into a wild hysteria filled with bellowing laughter. This was the first time since who knew how long, Martis showed his true colors, the Demon within him, the cannibal of man. His serrated incisors peered into view sparkling glimmers from a horrendous white gleam. Dark tendrils constructed from shadowlike material began to shroud his form and a heavy burden of uncontrollable anxiety hung over the room like a cloud. Yet as soon as it begun, the confrontation was over and Alistair released his telekinetic hold upon the Dhampir now falling from the elevation of the ceiling as he weightlessly floated to the floor. Dusting his garbs from any debris that may have plumed into the air onto his clothes, Martis sadistic grin had reformed to its former self seemingly regaining composure and less of the demonic countenance. His swollen reds still locked onto Alistair’s, yet his venomous glare diminished and he began to walk backwards towards the Harrowing of Gallows, Quinn’s demands for him to stop did not seem to cause hindrance or effect. Give or take a few or so feet and he was no longer walking nor backwards, but now face-to-face bending his foot to pivot turning clockwise. “It is you who defies Our lord. Well enough, that you drunk from his Doctor.... To save her is it? Yet I see clearly, that it was Maryanne who rescued her.”
  11. Etched in Stone

    The Shell of Great Sins

    Obsidian Cowhide loafers clicked to their destination. The long fleece pea coat tailing gently behind his person and ringlets of ash hair remained flowing with the rest of him. With eyes behind the head he meandered from the dance floor. The audience was locked in the Oaxaki’s performance, but even then there were few and some peeking their noses a little further than should. The duo slippped away from sight from a hole in the wall, open to the rest of the public that seen their exit. He nonchalantly brushed it over in a shrug. “This is quite a suite, you’ve got here.” Of course in all honesty, Lord Kronos was being sarcastic considering the woman mentioned a more private quarter for their conversation. Well, it was private and away from said ruckus though, the very unpleasant putrid odors of mildew mixing with Blood tasted sour to his senses. Yet without discouraging her further, any other thoughts were kept to himself in secret silence. Staying with the rest of the Coven and remaining in sight, or somewhat close, deemed itself a more suitable area for the type of conversation soon to display. Now they stood together, underground in what could of been sewage routes beneath a Tavern; minus the light sconces high above the head and the smell of actual waste waters or toxic pollutes. “I’m aware of the relics he possesses. Perhaps me and the Benny could promote some good business together?”
  12. Etched in Stone

    Welcome to the Festival of Blades (Ursa Madeum)

    FYI I'm aware of what the accepted abilities are 🙂 Hopefully, these matches are spaced enough in time and dates, I'd like to challenge myself with all three bouts. Honestly.
  13. This 5-330  has gotten to me all week that and the idea my newborn wakes up between 12-4 every night. 

    Not to mention, I’m working tomorrow. However, should get started on some writing today. Least is my plan.

    Just thank you for bearing with me so far.

  14. Etched in Stone

    Inu no Tatakai | Martial Dominance

    Blind never meant, incompetent. In this innate ability, Kenshi never needed to “see” his opponent, but rather feel movements to locate them. The Ookami trained not only his somatic senses under the ascetic Shugenja monks, no. For this, complete awareness was the most crucial factor. They had him learn to adapt his hearing, sense of smell, even taste to all his environment and surroundings as a yokai-wolf. This was his stillness, his mediation, his focus, the Warrior’s Spirit. The kindling flame deep in the belly of the beast the roots to his life force and energy, building, slowly whilst cycling Qi throughout his eight chambers. It was simple, the technique to come that is. His naked toes were already planted feeling out the Earth, his hands remained in relaxed posture and never left the folds of the Snow White yukata. As Jin took for his direct charge minute vibrations upon the field of grassy plains could be felt, perceived, and pinned to an near exact location. Two respective jumping front kicks found themselves sailing the air followed by a powerful swaying right heel in a roundhouse the kick snapped and fell back to the ground. Perhaps demonstrating a warmup was the case? The Raiju warrior should have felt the slightest tremor beneath him at least quarter his run, which happened to be the only evident sign that something else was bound to occur next. Those approaching steps were getting louder as they were, closer. The first from the list was plain cut a pair of earth pillars from the earth's surface elevated with over thirty pounds of force, yet one after the another with some distance. Terrain would provide enough coverage and material for construct. Odd that the Swordslayer took his fighting to hand-to-hand so early, even when the enemy wielded himself a weapon. A ten foot pillar two feet wide tore from the dirt first as a diversion. Beneath Jin's feet, this distraction was only meant to slow his tracks. Yet if somehow he sustained an injury, that was also good. With the same dimensions, the second would emerge halfway towards the end of Jin's run aiming to plummet him at a right angle instead of beneath shooting more for the area of the ribs this time after a predetermined evasion from the first. If neither had been sufficient in their assaults, or if one was one lucky enough it didn't matter. As Jin found himself soon, closing the gap between he an Kenshi inches in front of their summoner a compact slab raised in defense against the progressing Jin teen foot wide, ten inches thick, ten foot high. With hands still folded in his yukata respectively, Kenshi then took off to a swinging run from his left past the cover of his wall ready to defend against any and everything.