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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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    Depths of the Underworld
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    Writer, Poet, Musician, Composer, Student

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  1. Etched in Stone

    The Official Aleksei Fan Club

    Indeed. She’s incredible.
  2. Etched in Stone

    Chateau De Choisel | ENTER AT RISK

    What alluded the Mind to false projections or warped realities were hardly, representations of any factual occurrences. The feature had been a spell amplified by the effects of the Glen, conjured by Master Kronos as an illusion ward in threat and emergency for the escape tunnels, dungeon, and the sanctum as all three relied on the such ways as transport. While the Coven knew the descending spiraling stairwell, ultimately led unprohibited walkers down a path of no return or rather a never-ending cycle and means of travel. It was ineffective against Choisel and it's welcomed guests and servants. From his Chambers upstairs Leinhart floated in existence through his Nether. A thin etch mark rippled into the atmosphere of the Bloody Mary. From the unfolding display, the rift unveiled itself into a curtain of unworldly darkness that molded into the embodiment of the Patriarch. Beneath the wears of a peacoat, luxurious velvet button-up and a pair of complimentary slacks transpired his fleshly being. Scarlet cowhide loafers welcomed themselves further into the first-half of the Sanctum consisting of a tavern for the local individuals of the Region. Primordial goldenrod eyes glared at approaching undead men, greeting him since his arrival at the Chateau with gifts of offerings, for once today his blood curdling grin spread an inch further as he cracked a glimpse of his serrated teeth in slight regard. To many in the area Leinhart was their Supreme Ruler and though he fancied very little on what the World or any Soul for the matter viewed him as, the undead community glorified his Vampiric ruling and followed his every command as Patriarch. By now Tatia and Xartia should been making their way unless she ventured off in a detour of no good, elsewhere with the Cambion. In that case, he awaited their arrival. Without engaging in much converse, he proceeded towards the back of the tavern slowly headed for the heavy double doors to the Dungeon and Sanctum. Behind them, lie a sanctuary desirable only for the wicked and feasting as well, as the most guarded place of the Castle.
  3. I’ve got some posts coming out to those owed today. Until then, keep the parties rolling. It’s Saturday lol.

  4. Etched in Stone

    Chateau de Choisel: The Labyrinth That Is Her Mind

    Leinhart predicted well, the outcome on this Bloody Eve. Son of Istrefi received the telepathic report almost immediately arriving on scene of the Clinic. The bastard child withheld the status as Choisel Guardian. In turn, that gave him the Power and Will to assert any threats to the Coven, or the Choisel Patriarch himself as he felt necessary. From the fragments of Blood suckers, a heavy fog like darkness hung over the doorway to the facility. None from inside would see, not unless they were by the windows of course, but they would feel His presence, circulating the proximity in seething anxiety. Primordial golden oculars peered from the veil, it’s origins of Power beyond the comprehension of fleeting mortal men. A dark material limb extended to grasp ahold and ajar the door ahead, yet whilst reaching for the knob in his sublimated form the Supernatural then instantly reanimated. Beneath the wears of a luxurious velvet button-up and a pair of complimentary slacks, transpired his fleshly being. Scarlet cowhide loafers welcomed themselves into the opening door as Leinhart slowly stepped his way in. “I’ve been expecting you, Ira.” The Vampire lord stood considerably taller than the others at full height of Six foot Five inches, the shadows crawling beneath him even seemed to afford a few more centimeters. The Count’s legs did not appear completely grounded, reflecting the impression he hovered and lethargically over to the trio. He called out as if he’s known Ira personally, yet perhaps at this instant the thief began assuming that maybe Quin made some mentions of him before? Neither was the case. His goldenrod eyes found themselves pouring into Quin first who appeared most frantic, scrutinizing her every motion, telepathically flipping through the many pages of her human mind in search of any deceit, in which he already knew she could not fabricate against his Will. Then, his eyes averted onto the armoured trespasser holding the Sword alongside of her. Imbecile for unknowing. A bloodcurdling grin formed itself across his thinned lips at how pleasant his unclaimed Blood could been. Just what exactly, he had planned for this man’s crimes? Trespassing, obstructing private property, breaking an entering - though these crimes may have seem to pertained to unfavorable humans, Ira was still guilty as charged. The Doctor felt deeply in affection with him, Leinhart had been aware of this, however, would be hardly taken into account during judgment. Coming to a full halt midway to the couple, maybe barely even just half way into the Clinic, he commented on Quin without any further explanation, in little acknowledgment of the accused and a flash from his uncanny fanged teeth: “You do know him, yes? In that case, you will charge this man accordingly, Doctor.”
  5. Etched in Stone

    Sokui no Rei (Jigoku no Toshi)

    The commencement of Kodo was almost too endearing to the Daiookami's senses in the way it loosened joints, his mind at the instance of the percussion, his soul that kindled with the sacred flames of the Ascetic Monks … All channeled towards the unveiling procession - this was ready music for his ears like a child eager to await the Show who couldn't help, but brand a light grin at the occasion. Kenshi lived accustomed to these Taiko, post-battle rhythms, nor he'd forget beginnings as Senjo no Ookami, an Officer under a very powerful Daimyo during the Onin and Yokai Wars. He knew the Emperor and his new Empress were to arrive shortly from hereon. "So tell me. What is suiting enough?" There was a Renovation Ball not too long ago; a Celebration in Avylon .... What appeared as some altercation between the Heika and a respecting serviceman of another Kingdom. The foreign man endeavored to confront the Emperor by his shoulder. In a blinding metallic flash from his saya nearly across the Hall; Kenshinobu, not only did he successfully refrain the apprehension … The aggressor who thought taking matters into his own hands, well literally did just that, lost his own hand as it was severed away the moment, he thought he could intercept Chijono in what looked to be a vulnerable time. - Jigoku Nation was soon to be at War, this woman tried her life by laying hands on the Grandmaster, that in the same instant she felt comforted by him the Wolves could have reverted to bestial instincts to protect their Alpha and Master. In her trial however, he discerned her intents, any strain in her voice, or shift in heartbeat that would rule her a potential threat … Though, she was from foreign territory and previous knowledge of her or acquaintance went unknowing, it was possible the Heika had established relationships with her outside of his awareness. "Long as my Wolves don't find a reason to turn you into their lunch, you're accompaniment is fine." The mistress went untouched for now. Recollecting these events of late, even for a Blind Hanyo they remained put in his imagination as vivid as the day of the occurrence. Their eyes did not cross paths for a second time, but his attention further drifted from the ongoing Celebration and onto her as she'd soon discover his blind prominence. Again, it was uncertain if his words held any true desire on causing harm to the woman. Unpretentiously, this was his Warrior's Spirit, allowing himself to be touched by the grace of her hand. Kenshi replaced his Red Apple into his elongated white robe gently praising the alpha by it's artic grey mane as the Cobran Wolves squatted on hind legs and too watched the procession unfold from afar. @Eternity@Twitterpated@Dreamer
  6. Etched in Stone

    Chateau De Choisel | ENTER AT RISK

    "I am …. Grateful of you." Leinhart's sentiment was thought to had long been extinguished since the murder of Artemis Choisel - a Vampire he cared for beyond everything else. While their affection wasn't destined to be as One, or fated to intertwine or grow as Father arranged for Tatia and her twin brother, she was and always would continue to have been the Pureblood's First Wife. The people of Choisel Village and the Kabbalat Church burned in Hellfire a total of twenty-four hours for their actions against the Dark Lord. Word spread like wildfire across the Realms and a Billion Dollar Bounty was listed for his beheading, in which he fled Gaia and never returned since. While the immortal curse of True Vampirism was envied or frowned upon depending the side of light from one was standing, the fact of never aging more than his mid-twenty countenance, that Leinhart would roam until the Sands of Time no longer counted the existence of mankind. Who'd assume, that in all of his Ten Thousand years of life undead, the offers of the World had come to a standstill. Very little excited him, yet there was nothing he could want to anticipate more than ever than his own Death - that was the God-Evil truth. A chance to finally see all his centuries of work come together under one Supreme Ruler, under one Red Moon and under one Blotted Sun. That's when the production of the Elixir came into play. Those words were delivered slowly in their escape and if by now, this had been his second time expressing gratitude for her. The Illusion was supposed to only be mere, exaggerated twisted perceptions, yet somehow the Dark Lord missed out the details were he left the zipper on his slacks wide-open. Porcelain painted fingers rushed to secure the open fly, lifting lazily from the satin to his full height of nearly Six and a half Feet tall as the lovely Tatia fell behind her screen veil covering herself in robes, removing that capturing velvet dress. Either or none at all, the Patriarch thought they fit well. She was utterly stunning, a splitting-image of himself and she belonged entirely to him. Fixating the golden belt buckle on his slacks as he tightened them, he loosened a few top buttons on his long-sleeved scarlet dress shirt and too began heading for the door across the stone cobbled floor. A delicate right hand extended for the coat rack in his passing of it, with telekinetic efforts from the Supernatural his fleece peacoat raised from the coat hook it hung and levitated into his clenched fist as he then, slung it over the shoulder by the collar. Since the completion of the Feeding Den the Vampire Patriarch had yet to visit. Truth be told he'd knew he'd find himself down there every evening indulging in Blood Baths. Leinhart also knew the Cambion wasn't really fancy about his kind, so that even more the better a reason to have him join down in the Dungeon Chambers of the Choisel Castle. Via telepathic energies a message was delivered to her; "See to it he comes down to the Bloody Mary, as where I'm headed now." @Eternity @Twitterpated
  7. Etched in Stone

    Chateau de Choisel: The Labyrinth That Is Her Mind

    Whatever was left from the Murder quickly fled, scattering the area in blackness to report their findings to the Choisel Patriarch. Resultingly, there been consequences for two dear visitors dying in pools of Crimson. Meanwhile, thick, blood-sucking vines sprout like webs from the wall edges of the labyrinth in the wake of this all, entangling the humans securing their limbs first, then raking them into a pit to be spat out later as some hollow monument fixtures. Cariella stripped their Souls marking them with blank lifeless eyes, but that didn't stop their torpid suffering; half their bodies dismembered before her arrival. It was that day he recalled her from the Haunted Gathering, hundreds if not thousands of creatures from both the Night and of the Underworld marching from the abandoned Cathedral in his Supreme Command. Since her arrival from the Glen their brief conversations hadn't been much of any discussions, but her visit to the Chateau was dearly welcomed with the courtesy of the Choisel House. Long as her Reaper doings didn't interfere with his Vampiric rulings, she was safe and considered an ally to the Pureblood Coven. The white granite mausoleum went crashing over any evidence of the men ever being there, returning to it's preternatural mystery as if virtually nothing ever happened. The Labyrinth too shuffled, clearings and rearranged pathways under influences of the Haunted Glen. The thieved Ruby went unscathed in the clearing of the debris, emerging from the soil in it's ancient luster. "So, you tell me the Doctor knows one of them by Ira and this man was rescued by Otto? A thick, glossy feathered Carrion with scarlet eyes descended on the Pureblood's velvet shoulder. It's communicative caws and telepathic messaging, inferring what he already witnessed himself from the Two hundred foot elevation. A blood-curdling grin formed upon his bone white grin, his Goldenrod hues flashed their fury in disgust and hate at such speculations rolling them over the lids in a flick of his eyes. The Labyrinth was a giant sandlot for Quin's Project Baby who quite didn't understand it's mysterious self-repairing works; as days passed further, Leinhart's analysis of the experiment was near conclusion. Another failed attempt to his collected ages of work. All brawns, no intelligence so ever. The Butler Martis had yet to been fully pled guilty in a trial against him. but Leinhart felt the envy and malice boiling against him from day one of meeting the Dhampir - things, went almost cloudy in his judgements of Doctor Quin Nash. Or perhaps his expectations of her went unmet and she was a threat to all the forgotten knowledge he possessed. "This is impossible, isn't it?' Without further to question a gloved white hand shut the scarlet drapery of the bay window scenery to the Rose garden. In a about-face he pivoted a Hundred eighty degrees, just prior to his foot taking an advance to head for the opposite direction Leinhart's entire 6'5 frame dispersed into a swarm of Bats, whizzing hastily towards the exit of an opened window to meet with Ira and the Doctor at once and immediately. @DarkHorse @Greenmntman @HumanBean03
  8. Etched in Stone

    Sokui no Rei (Jigoku no Toshi)

    The Cobran Wolves attending Kenshinobu’s forefront watched intently with orbs of vigilance, inspecting each individual they came across. Standing on four limbs at three feet tall and with a body mass of a hundred fifty pounds, these carnivores were built to invoke more than just anxiety and fright into others. As Dire Wolves they sensed the fear from others well, deceit, and though the Blind Hanyo might not caught every thing within his limited field of vision, let’s just say these Canis Lupis were the experts in eating first and asking questions last. Perfect Keepers and Kenshi’s reliance of them was long established. The streets bustled in liveliness from all corners, even alleyways that forked into their own had packed attractions and activities pumping in Celebration, servicing the Emperor, his Empire, and the good Faith from the People. While the Night was young many indulged in festive drinking early. Almost every corner bore signs and stands with Sakes, Sojus and Baijius beverages. One could hear the gurgled slurs from the drunken and intoxicated as they bobbed and weaved through the absorbing crowd. Every sound, every layer of conversation, even the faintest change of heartbeat or strains in them, these were only physical but everything went accounted for. Voices bounced from every possible angle - these sound waves not only perceived signals to his ears, but they also painted fine details with the information transmitted. These reflected sounds guided Kenshi freely through Jigoku, the numerous hundreds of scent glands in his nose was another to aid; he’d smell the spices from foods halfway down a mile if he concentrated enough, but the most effective feature had been his Spirituality as an Ookami Hanyo. His ability to distinguish such energies perceived amongst, beneath, even between Yin and Yang. The astute Ookami proceeded calculatively, his newly given sword fastened to his pearl obi. While Kazuato seemed to emanate in nigh translucent flames encompass the entire scabbard, his fingers rested lightly just above the head or Kashira. The former Swordslayer could feel lowly growls vibrating the tsuka almost provoking it’s Bearer, communicating to him, longing to be unsheathed, crying to spill blood. It was true he had yet to draw any blood on it, because of this it oh-so-ever called to him in the vicinity of possible threats or danger. The ivory scabbard secured his right hip. This was a time for War preparation and even a greater moment for the dutiful hundreds of warriors he now had in his leadership under the Rising Sun. He would seem to have miscalculated a step, which was odd considering his guide of Wolves, but in his passing he crossed a woman in strange, radiating energy - Kazuato responded to her unknown origins flaring in a translucent flame doubled the original size. When they would accidentally bump one another, the Wolves had stopped to flash a glimpse of their serrated maws at the woman. From within the confines of his haori fell his favorite red Fuji apple, rolling and tumbling until it stopped at the woman’s feet. “Oh my, what a clumsy mistake.” Uncertain if his comment referred to him or her, his blank white eyes stared into her face in almost tender fierceness like a quiet storm and it was evident the swordsman was Blind. Quite a humbled soul one would assume by personality, never the loudest in a room full of people. Still, even then, he managed to see her somehow, not the finer details but her outlining beauty, much of just her sketch. That, and by judging the wears and kamon insignia across his back, Kenshi was a high ranking official for Jigoku; the Grandmaster of the Rising Sun Dojo. Today, had been her lucky day to meet such a myth. He kneeled over to scoop the apple in hand before returning a small bow to his front, while the triplets waited eagerly for the woman’s response. With closed maws they too, showed her some courtesy and gently bowed. @Eternity @Twitterpated
  9. Etched in Stone

    Sokui no Rei (Jigoku no Toshi)

    "Sink your Chakras and weight into the ground as you step, feel with it your mind the energy around and within your shins and feet. Expand and push your energy through the "energetic mud" of your Etheric body. Allow the Chakras to naturally transfer into your torso and arms. Remember before I head out and leave you on your own Ozu, comfortable movements. Stillness in motion. I can tell by how the stone wobble beneath, your footing is not smooth or centered. All myriad thoughts must be replaced in order to concentrate on your Walking and make the mind Pure. The body must train while harnessing your Spirit and only the robes should be slightly disturbed by your advances." In interest of the farmer the Daiookami had decide to give these lessons to Waganabe's son for no charge, roam and board with all services accommodated by the Imperial Nation. Knowledge and martial prowess that could not be bought, bargained, - or even bartered. No, nah', impossible right? Kenshinobu found himself compelled to the Blind Ookami boy, whom in himself he would see, and keep until service was no longer of need. This meant that also in Battle, Ozu was his personal dutyman or bodyguard during distress, but freed to do as he pleased back in the safeness and home of the Jigoku Nation. Not only did this help remove some of the debtload his Father had to repay that slowly accumulated over time, but this also allowed the man to keep his land without any seizure of property. Especially, since the Empire was preparing for times of War. This was the Emperor's way of Understanding. Contracted to him sice their acquaintance, loyal to his cause since Enlistment; with a myriad of years to come Momoku might have never seen through to his Wraths, but always felt for the Heika's Sentiment. Even then, no matter the circumstances his judgements of the man never swayed, his job was his job and his level of regard for Koji was always admired. "I am late, Ozu. As so it's the final hour of our lesson for the day. Go get you something to eat in the District, or perhaps, you wish to enjoy this Celebration like the rest? We will continue in the Dawn and don't forget, without Yin there is no Yang vice versa. I must finish preparing, until tomorrow ….. " He was seen remerging from the far left corner of the Dojo this time, in splendid silks of blacks and whites. Glimmering white pearls scanned pupiless with swell veins at the sanctuaries of skin, while rough bangs tumbled down and over his delicate face falling halfway down his back like a streaming river. Despite the fact his pale white face and pinkish lips discussed a young warrior, his astuteness of battle and theories of life recounted an alternate story on his age of a more established man. Kenshi's outward appearance was the least of his ferocity. Often quite calm and composed he weighed roughly 145lbs soaking wet, and stood at an average height of 5'8. A light summer robe or Haori half agape mid-path to his midriff foundation of an attained abdominal, cooly walking onwards in customary wooden sandals. It was expected of Ozu to finish what he was doing now to clean up and hopefully, be there for the ceremonial gathering alongside and in honor of the General of the Imperial Army. From one of the wall mountings littered about with various swords and such of different designs and usage, pulling from one particularly for the first time revealing it to the Public; a gift of new life and rebirth from the lord Chijono himself. Hosting it with a single finger beneath where a hand-guard would have been, the longer blade and shorter handle proved to had an odd, yet perfect sense of balance incorporated into it's production. The sword as a whole was beautiful to look at. The enchanted blade hummed with foreign energies beyond mortal comprehension. The brilliant icy blue hued tip faded to a dark gray at the base, transitioning into what was ultimately a black handle; Hosting a golden arrow head shaped pommel, ideal for strikes with such. Unlike Kenshi's usual comfort zone within his one sword style, this sword was a one handed one, and with no hand guard. Kizuato was it's name given. The Grand Master waited Ozu's bow before he dipped slightly and made way for his exit this time in the company of three dire Wolves from Cobran. The Dojo was packed with atleast fifty of these dire wolves guarding the place, at posts in almost every corner there were two and a commanding Jigoku Swordslayer. These disciplined Wolves of Jigoku were the forefront runners of infantry and land battle that stood and lived there at the School of the Rising Sun. As he headed out he took with his paper parasol of plain white cloth, one that did not leave him so openly vulnerable to the public during this Celebration. Taking off into the District himself with his three dire Wolves in formation of a three-point guard one at each of his angles respectively, exiting his property stone cobbled path he dipped into the crowds with little notice following through the nightly sky; those who recognized the Crest of the Rising Sun upon his robes distinguished the Hanyo Soke and parted him ways with gratitude and respects, renowned enough his face had become well familiar in the public of his homeland. A breath of fresh air outside in the Red District reminded him of the arrival into the newly constructed area and how long it's been since he's touched soils there. A sight. that even a Blind man would see the beauty.
  10. Etched in Stone

    House of Choisel, BEWARE OOC

    Somehow, I continue to forget this topic exists. Also, the Labyrinth has never officially been detailed, but since I’m putting it all together the more we move ahead it’s actually surrounding the entire Castle. As it’s paths that lead to the Chateau are never the same. A traveler will find himself lost trailing a path he once troddened. Technically, one has to make it through the Labyrinth and that’s all up to the writer. I don’t intend on making it difficult, only entertaining. Hope that helped some. @HumanBean03
  11. Etched in Stone

    Chateau De Choisel | ENTER AT RISK

    "I shouldn't have to remind you of these things. This is not only My House, but yours and the Coven that swears Loyalty to our Name. Tia is just the beginning for us and for that, we mustn't fail. Of course, I always adore your efforts." Leinhart's words were vaguely left open as if what was meant to be said been given a lighter sentence of things. Her claws tore into the fabric on his tailcoat feasibly, her grip sliding down his back cutting into the animation of his porcelain flesh. Pleasures of Pain, for a Pureblood Vampire this was the ultimate high. Not only did it arouse relief for his worries, the Countess knew how to heighten his mood despite the semi-erotic atmosphere... It was inappropriate to call this moment Heat, while though an intense desire began to burn down his stomach. The faint scent of irons swam onto his senses with a sudden urge, one that Willed to no longer taste. Sanguine that was from his own life forces, he could only attempt to fathom the last time she had even a drop. Undead did not achieve much, if little to no stimulation or climax as Humans did. Just as his face naturally stitched itself together, it wasn't long after until his exposed back began it's self-recovery. There, he turned to look at her tender face as she played with him in innocence. She would feel the fiery pit burning down in his Soul. His brilliant golden eyes and relaxed brows concealed any true intentions however, he remained firm upon his Prey. "Give into me, yes." Absolute blackness, something encouraged her to seek further pyschosomatic energies slowly sinking unto Tatia's reality as she felt herself compelled to the window of his Soul. A sense of euphoria was quickly burdened onto her in a comforting way reassuring, she knew this invading force was the Kronos. She possesed enough to overcome his mental fortitude, but if she Willed it and she first had to sense the disruption she was sucked into. While it welcomed her into vulnerability with tranquility his subconcsious Plane was almost too surreal. Realities warped, and time bended into what could of been a good old wet dream perhaps. Leinhart romanced her ontop as they was beneath the satin sheets, their bodies engaged and interwined. It was a time more than any sexual pleasure imaginable, blood sharing and marking fanged territories whatnot. The room no longer swirled around or contorted not did the Master seem to be laying upon the Countess this instant, still laying with her hands over her knees. The sheets pressed flat as if they’ve not been Felt seating at all, freshly made. Everything was as is. The feeling of being existent and the memories remained. Just when things couldn't get any better, any more passionate and the desire for more blood was at it's peak he broke the Illusion from her. "I can tantalize you more later my dear. I am sorry. Perhaps, we can finish without the interruptions? Another guest has arrived, a close friend of the House; Xartia Raye Pendragon. Please, tend to him while I see what it is the rest are up to. Unless, you wish to choose the latter? Cariella, I've forgotten about her too. Or, maybe you wish to see to her well-being? Even an immortal can't find enough hours in a day." A soft pale hand caressed her gingerly under the chiin as he sat with legs crossed, returning her that delicate grin knowing she'd exploit his wicked charms sooner or later. The last statement was a factual one, nothing that boasted his esteem. The god-evil truth. @Eternity
  12. Etched in Stone

    Sokui no Rei (Jigoku no Toshi)

    “Master Kenshi we’ve received word the celebration has already begun. Hundreds of people are gathering in the Red District, you will be attending the ceremony no?” Weeks would pass, the former Hoga-Sha was no longer a bodyguard for the Emperor and his family. Still, he’d give life as quick he’d take one any moment for the heir and their lineage. Months of his service awarded him the rank of Imperial Army General, not only, but the Daiookami upped himself into his enjoyments and passions of Combat, opening the School of the Rising Sun as Soke Grand Master for the Dojo. Seemed since the success of capturing five war packs from Cobran, bringing with them to Jigoku four of their Alpha leaders; Kenshi’s esteem within the Nation was if not at near peak by now. That, along with the tall tale of him severing a man’s hand faster than a speeding bullet with his Blade during the Renovation Ball; a fellow reached at the Heika a little too aggressively and suffered true loss. Not only, but now his own hand was wanted in exchange for the damages caused. There was no way in his two-hundred years of semi-immortality he was giving it up. They had to take it and with force. Children of Jigoku loved to hear that story be told over and over as if it never aged with the months that passed. They idolized Momoku for his dedications and sword talents. The man was no more a myth, beyond the jurisdiction of the Nation he was known as the Legendary Swordslayer. Within Hinode no Gakko’s walls trailing the outline of a pupil, walking the circumference of a rather wide, spacious circle etched into the stone from the Dojo floor. The New Moon student was to take reoccurring steps in sequence using both legs respectively. The way of Taijutsu circle-walking was Kenshi’s basis for Martial teaching in which literally, only in proper form and placement of the feet one can truly execute it’s methods of stillness. His Student, a poor farmer’s boy whom plowed the crops for the Imperial Nation, a blind young lad Kenshi felt he could assist in lesson and sensory skill. Since the break of Dawn they’ve been practicing Katas similar to the Eight Trigrams repeating the techniques until they were done correctly and it was now Dark outside. Night had fallen upon them and the young lad was exhausted on his First day. “Kenshi-Soke my feet feel like sores are sprouting from standing on them all day. Burning the back of my legs, we have stood in this circumference the entire time. I don’t see how this pertains to true power and strength, I’m only walking in circles.” The Dojo itself was heavily influenced on early Shugendo beliefs, kakejiku scrolls littered the walls about telling tales from many different lifetimes of the Senjo no Ookami as early as his pilgrim years to his late Tsujigiri days of challenging every swordsman he came across in battle. Various weapons acquired from numerous amounts of Asian influences organized along the walls and shelves alike to a set of eyes, went untouched and were just for show. A full-plated Armour set rested as a mannequin in the far centre of the room polished in a thick coat of obsidian dragon scales, a brown seal or Kamon representing the Kokuryu no Kibo embroidered upon the cuirass or torso of the armor. A pair of Blades, one the Odachi and a Wakazashi mounted above on a wall behind the Samurai Armour in a pair of crimson red scabbard or saya. At the back wall the large artwork of Seven different Ookami Warriors from separate packs joined together. Symbolically, this brotherhood represented the many different nations of backgrounds it took to build such an Empire. Though the boy was unable to witness it with his own eyes, he would be told of it’s origin and beauty. These Swordslayers came to be known as the Wolves of Jigoku. “Power is not given, what is strength? An old man defends himself against a band of thugs with only a stick. We are Wolves of Jigoku, young one. Strength is already within you. An entire day’s training is what you earned because you had the power to push through the limits of your own body. If you cannot walk the circles, you cannot run. If you cannot run, what will you do in battle? The old man defended himself, not because he had power or strength, but because he was given the tools to do so against tougher enemies. You will do twenty more of these circles, or I will not attend the Celebration and I will no longer teach you these lessons.”
  13. Etched in Stone

    The Shell of Great Sins

    Benny reeked of incomparable power past ordinary measure; the trepidation of Tians incited the Demon to feel himself a Divine being among those won. Leinhart had yet supplanted his glimmering gold eyes from the circles on Benefactor’s face. Neither did the Count ascend from his stooped position; he stood put until given the chance to speak, yet once again. Gazing with an incredible look of enthusiasm about him in an abnormal, significant way Leinhart knew no better scalawag to end up familiar with amid his procurement of Copper City. Delicate porcelain digits kept running over the blend on the folder case similarly as with the other hand, he flipped and uncovered it's substance inside. Six thick vials of dark red quintessence laid in every one of their engravings of the short case. A proclaimed fix all solution for the diseased, dependent, the helpless. Gossipy tidbits of Immortality was already spreading into smaller, local cities around the area of the Haunted Glen. After reclosing the briefcase it was then that Master Kronos decided to rise from his kneel and proceed in his slow, graceful steps towards the throne. The pinstriped one dressed like a gentleman, yet behind those abyssal blacks held an unspoken peril upon these Tian civilians, drove Leinhart forward to yearn more of this darkness. His body covered in the linen fleece seemingly floated from the platform of the ground, but then even in a second breath he appeared to be walking again, or touching down. The Demon now towered before him and at about now it may resembled the prey was about to be eaten, the new jack was no good at negotiating. "At a hundred percent success rate I giveth thee, Elixirul De Vietti from my own sanguine. I've come to see the requirements of this here New World to offer the unprivileged a possibility at reclamation ... There is a catch, of course." @amenities
  14. Etched in Stone

    Chateau De Choisel | ENTER AT RISK

    "You proven me right all these centuries, dearest Tatia. Your Resurrection, though these bodies are only semblances of our former selves, it's taken me far and long to accustom to the New World. You are my Countess ... I cannot deny assistance any longer. This moment, I am in need of you more so than ever ... if I am defeated by the Benefactor, you are the only true remaining heir for Head of Choisel." Leinhart had much to say in what felt so little time. His apathetic facial expression showed a contrasting difference from his words. He grew to become who he was, but Tatia's presence brought to him a warmth he had not felt in centuries. To what the Humans considered romance a shared moment of feelings associated with love, the term amongst Vampires wouldn't be any more unique. Affection was a quality not all Undead had the capacity to acquire, in fact the first Human woman that came across Leinhart's path contrasted his believes and displayed to him what it meant to care for others. It may been difficult to express such sentiments, but ever so occasionally he reminded Tatia her irreplaceable worth to him. In itself, words went needless to explain. It was their blood instinct to comprehend such she was his soon to be second-wife. He cracked an out of nowhere frisky grin and snatched forth a lock full of hair with his right hand as she intertwined her legs around his waistline after allowing his entanglement. The white hand loosened it's grip to slide down for her thigh, stretching from behind she was busy with tending him. He groped once firmly mid-way the crevice of her blue blouse. Fingers pressed forth upon her thigh in gentle caress as she took hold of his shoulders; lean and lithe in frame, beneath the shirt he actually packed some heightened form of physical fitness. Her nails punctured his fleshy cheeks that rode all the way in a trail slowly down to his chest gliding towards destruction, it was fortunate that Leinhart enjoyed every passing second with his mistress sister. The scrapes on his face as any other part of his body she marked for her pleasures would already began to sew itself back together one strain a time. He raised both hands out of impulse or either forfeiting himself to end the rest of the eve, his golden swirls told an entirely different story from what he just mentioned. Still with her wrapped with legs around him he was unable to face her directly and maintained his focus playfully ahead at him. "Okay, I surrender. Now .. Enchant me. Or I've seen it all?" @Eternity
  15. Etched in Stone

    Chateau de Choisel: The Labyrinth That Is Her Mind

    ~ "Where did you even learn vampire?" The Night was as it had always been, even with good spirits from the genius Doctor Nash and her Project baby Otto tearing portions of the Castle's exterior here and there. Her Human life brought a fine line to coexistence amongst Vampires, primarily the House and Pureblood of Choisel. The ever changing labyrinth never appeared the same more than once since the Devil knew how long in his brief month of residence somehow, the estate fed from the prominent thriving Entropy of the Glen the Castle was told and found to been self-repairing. Silent eyes watched. The graveyard was rarely a place to mourn and weep those beloved and lost. On the other end of things in places that didn't grow beautiful with sunlight, tombstones there were in fact sleeping grounds for the Undead. Down, deep beneath the surface of land slumbered a massive force of nearly 5,000 dormant undisturbed until, footsteps from men trampled into the premise trespassing Chateau De Choisel in their wicked intents.. Those of the Dark Legion a handful, were once living men that swore fealty to the House of Choisel, while a good portion been acquired through the many centuries of Leinhart's eternal mortality. These numbers were no-where close to actual count of D.L in his expense, but it was enough to guard the 400,000 sq. ft. property without need of reinforcements. Swimming across the sky the travelers would soon discover they weren't the only ones there. Undead Crows with their reddened pupils and wingspans twice the size of their worldly counterparts! Talons were like they could easily snatch up victims and tear the bodies to devour them. These hungry meat-feeders circled the trio in route from above, dipping in and out of existence, falling in the shadows provided by the Night. The Patriarch vampire did not sit in his throne, from the large bay window of the Great Hall that overlooked the Courtyard he watched, a hand outstretched the velvet drapery slightly. Ember red eyes complimented his undershirt of a long-sleeved scarlet silken button down. Of course, these passersby had been long spotted and word was received to be handled accordingly. Even in the face of his own Death, the Dark lord could not resist his good looks and taste in fashion. The culprits had another thing coming their way, something far more unexpected than the Rotting Cadavers they were soon skirmishing. ~ "Consider it taking up your friends offer, I quit. I am taking this, and going home. Consider it my share of all the treasure you find the rest of the time here" If by in a short few seconds after Max removed the ruby from it's sacred place the ground beneath his soles began to rumble, not only just was the surface trembling under his feet but his companions as well. The man was celebrating himself too soon, or counting his chicken before they hatched. His friends, just for bystanding had to suffer as well. Though with the fool of a Piratee like Max who could not resist such temptations of man, he would be afflicted in curse the worst out of the looters. The creeping noises in the background became more hissy once they removed the rags that covered their six foot frames. These Undead knights had partial remnants of their former armour as swordsmen under Choisel banner paced even closer in their plated boots by two's for each man. All the while, the mausoleum was still ….. Tumbling.