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Fallen Angels (RP)

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Vampira

(Rose Flame)
    • 366
    Posts
    20
    Years
    • Seen Sep 14, 2004
    Alright, first off, this RP has nothing to do with any previous story. It's an entirely original idea thought up by Firefly and I.

    This RP is about Clinical Vampirism, a very real personality disorder. Those affected adopt a vampire persona and use it as a license to manifest violence against others. Most have no problem killing, believing the blood of others will give them immortal life if they drink enough of it. Some, though, are too weak stomached, and will more likely kidnapp a victim, drink from them, and release them, or simply drink the blood of animals. It's not uncommon for clinical vampires to be psychopaths as well. This kind of clinical vampire is quite striking. They feel no guilt over what they do, they have no conscious. They take what they want and move on to another victim. (explanation summarized from "The Science of Vampires" by Katherine Ramsland, Ph.D)
    (The title of this RP refers to the belief that the vampires themselves hold; that they are fallen angels, and they can gain back their immortality by drinking the blood of humans. This doesn't change the fact that they believe that they are pure evil)

    Now that you've got a bit of backgrounf info, here's the story.
    All across the world, we see the lives of (however many people join this RP as vampires) slowly disentegrating, or, possibly, already disentegrated, as they begin to, or continue to think that they are in fact vampires. Immortality, garlic, blood; the real deal. Eventuall, they meet up somehow, and form a "clan" and begin to wreak havoc in (place to be decided later). A psychologist, who is obsessed with and has been studying clinical vampires for years, teams up with a detective to find and capture all these wanna be vampires one by one. But, will they be able to contain them?

    Ok, now that that's out of the way, put up your character profile if you want to join in!

    EDIT: Due to recent developments, this RP has been rated PG13.

    Name: Ramona Nalin
    Age:24
    Residence: London
    Personality: Believes that she is a vampire. A ruthless killer who will stop at at nothing to gain immortality, though she does not lack empathy. Though very loyal to her clan, she tends to lash out at them if they rub her wrong. Prior to hooking up with her clan, she can oftentimes be found sitting in the Key and Chain bar drinking a bloody mary. Goes out only at night if she can help it.
    Job:Works as a horror writer under the pen name "Jezebel Rose" at the beginning of the story. Has put out one book so far.
    Looks:Tall, very thin, long black hair reaching down to her waist. Wears only black clothes. Has striking green eyes.
    Background:Has had a tough life, the details of which have remained a secret.
     
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    This is a great idea!!! I'll join!


    Name: Jasper Namly
    Age:19
    Residence: New york State
    Personality: Jasper thinks he is a vampire he even paid a plastic surgeon millions to sharpen his "Vampire Teeth". He loves the taste of blood and drinks it whenever he can he keeps some in a canteen with him at all times. He drinks blood from mostlycows at local farms, but on the fullmoon he reackes havon on humans and usually ands up killing at least one. He also like to stay away from human because he believes he is better than them because he's aa vampire.
    Job:None/He lives off his Rich dead mothers inheritance.
    Looks:Tall, thin, black hair, black shirt and black pants. He always wears black.
    Background:His mother was extremely rich and paid no attention to him and didn't realized he believed himself a vampire. He has always been spoiled and therefore he thinks its ok to kill or hurt humans or animals. Its just what he was taught.
     
    Name: Robbie McClemens
    Age: 22
    Residence: Edinborough Scotland
    Personality: Regards himself as infinately dangerous and usually puts up a goofball facade to get close to his "targets." Has a nearly infinate capacity for cruelty and masochism. Fascinated by everything about blood. Loves spending free time at a Goth club known as The Liquid Room.
    Job: Drummer for a local band known as The Red Streak.
    Appearance: Dresses in typical biker gear usually. Fingerless leather gloves and a leather bomber jacket cover a tight white shirt. Blue jeans and a chain bracelet complete the clothes. Physically he has shoulder-length straight blond hair and deep-set green eyes. Usually looks rather gaunt and emicated, despite a muscular frame.
    Background: He was cast out by his parents at age eight after they found him casually skinning a rabbit. Couldn't stand the thought of living off of pity so he turned to thievery. Made quite a reputation for himself before being apprehended. He was let out on a technicality although placed with a foster family. They were his first human targets, dissapearing when he was 13. He changed his name and moved north to try and find a home.
     
    Wow. Such an in-depth description. You make mine look really bad. ;)
     
    Name: Devin Delano
    Age:27
    Residence:Nakuru ,Kenya
    Personality: Seems to have a laid-back personality to those who don't know her very well. Has trouble killing people for blood; mostly drinks from animals. Has multiple personalities (2): that come out at unexpected times one is the vampire and the other is a normal person.
    Job: a safari guide
    Looks: Middle height, thin, short blonde and pink streaked hair that she keeps slicked back. China blue eyes, and tanned skin.
    Background: Native of Santa Cruz California. Her parents never knew she was a vampire, but thought her rather to be just a kid going through a goth faze. At fifteen, she decided she was a vampire, by means she doesn't speak about. Moved to Kenya after college.
     
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    Alright, we've got four people now: Should we go ahead and start, and if anyone else wants to join in, they can along the way?
     
    <OOC>Sounds good, I'll leave it to you for now.<OOC>
     
    <OOC>Ok then. I'm going to put up an introduction for my character, since I kinda rushed through the bio part.I don't know if you guys want to do that to, or just start into the story. I suppose it doesn't matter.<OOC>

    Ramona Nalin, London: Introduction

    Look in the mirror; past all the imperfections, past the hair and make-up, past the clothes...And into those eyes, those tell-all eyes that everyone has. What do you see? I've always seen the same thing. An evil creature with abnormal lusts, someone who could never be loved, someone who would die a lonely old maid. I could picture myself as an old woman , a corpse, sitting by the window of a neat little cottage plagued by meaningless forget-me-nots, eyes wide open, staring blankly out into a world that hated me as much as I hated it. Yeah, just rocking back at forth, as if still breathing, just rocking like nothing has changed.

    But no, that's not what I wanted; death. That's not what I want now. I want life, I want a place in this meaningless world. I want an identity, my own identity. I want true love, the kind that you read about in the storybooks, the kind that's never real, that can never be real.

    ...I couldn't understand why...why she, Mum, hated me so much, left bruises all over, why father never returned from the supermaket that day...But most of all, I couldn't understand the cuts on my arms, where I'd drink from myself. I just couldn't understand why...why I felt immense pleasure and relief with every cut, and even more as my own blood poured down my throat.

    I think that's when it dawned on me; that rainy day at the Rose Cottage where I sat locked up in the smallest closet of the house, just after Mum had done her daily rounds on me. As I dragged my fathers old hunting knife across my arms and celebrated in the drops that fell to my mouth...I think I knew then that I was one of them, one once immortal, a fallen angel with the possibility of a great devil now.

    ...But no one loves a devil...

    Hours later, when Mum opened the closet door, tears pouring from her eyes and sorrows from her mouth, as she did each time...I sank my father's hunting knife into her neck. The thud her jaded body made on the floor excited me, as I leaned over and drank the waterfalls of crimson pouring from her thin neck, feeling, for the fist time in a long time, whole, and right. I looked one last time on the object of my pain with no regrets, and I left and never looked back.

    I've got a better life now. No one will ever try to hurt me again; I have such a bad-*** reputation here. I'm a writer, you know that. I wrote that book, so popular with teens now-a-days; Scarlet tears. Yeah, that's the kind of crap you'd read on the cover of my book. Such an idealized version of my life.

    I rent a townhouse down on 7th street, in which I've boarded up the room and decorated...quite beautifully in my opinion, though it's decor seems to scare my...guests. I've set up my special room in the cellar. Don't look under the floorboards, you might be frightened at what you see.

    Sometimes, somenites, you might see me at the Key and Chain. Don't be shy, come over for a chat. Who knows, maybe you'll be the one to come home with me; it really depends on how thirsty I am.

    <OOC>How is that? I don't know if 2nd persion view is acceptable for RPing; is it?<OOC>
     
    <OOC>It's perfectly acceptable, any viewpoint is.<OOC>

    It wasn't much more than a usual session at the studio, we were putting the finishing touches on a synth beat called Pachabel's Gannon. I loved the song, it seemed to be a perfect mirror to my moods, just as the sky here was. Always grey with clouds, always threatening rain. I smiled cruely at the thought, perhaps God wasn't so different from me. I left the studio hands in pockets as I walked over to the lot where I'd parked my Ducati. I tore out of the lot at speeds most riders considered insane. Maybe I'd die, maybe I'd get lucky. Who knew?
     
    <OOC>Okay, I'm moving to first person viewpoint. It just seems easier.<OOC>

    Ramona Nalin, London (<OOC>I'm just putting that there so it doesn't get confusing, switching people and places, you know?<OOC> )

    As I sit in the same place I do each time I come here, to the Key and Chain bar, listening to the intense music from a local band, I feel the stare of a man resting on me, and I pretend not to notice. I act surprised when he takes a seat beside me.

    "Hey. I'm paul." he says, offering his hand. I smile wickedly.
    "Ramona."
    "So, you here alone?" He certainly wastes no time.
    "Yes, I am."

    He smiles, and I smile back. But mine is for a much different reason, a reason he would never expect.
     
    Turned out that today wasn't my day. I pulled up in front of The Liquid Room with nothing more eventful than my running a red light. I walked into the dim club, looking around at the familiar setting. Prey was usually easier here, they were all so desperate for pain or death. It was ideal. Besides, the atmosphere just suited me. I grinned in anticipation as one of the crimson lights passed over my face.
     
    Ramona Nalin, London

    "This was a bloody tough one." I say to myself as I rise my lips from his neck. I knew I shoudn't have fed from him in a place as public as a bathroom, but it had been so long since I had fed, that I couldn't wait till I got home. I cleaned the blood from my face, straightened out my hair, unlocked the main door to the bathroom, and left the bar entirely. I didn't worry myself over his body. There wasn't any evidence that could tie him to me. He was such a playboy, as alll that I fed off were, that anyone could have done it. And in a bar such as the Key and Chain, no one would know he was dead for hours. It wasn't uncommon to see blood or even someone passed out there. No one knew my secret. No one would ever know.
     
    The barkeep nodded to me, passing a goblet of a fine Merlot, one of my personal favorites. I'd wait and see which approached me, they were always the most fun if they came willingly. besides, the flesh got all tense if they expected something.
     
    Ramona Nalin, London

    As I walked back home, it began snowing. The huge flakes began to blanket the town at an alarming rate. Looking down on it's brilliant white color causes my head to dance with fantasies of red snow. Yes, I always loved to feed more when it was snowing. The cold air and the snow crunching underfoot gives me such a rush.
     
    I laughed sharply as one of the TV's was interrrupted with a report of snow in London. If they thought that deserved a special report...Suffice to say the storm was already up to the top of the first floor here. N one would be getting out for a while. I had no complaints about that. A girl, little over 17 sat down next to me and ordered some water. She feigned disintrest, but she was occasionally eying me. I couldn't help but lick my lips.
     
    Ramona Nalin, London

    For I moment, I only stood there, gazing up as the snow fell all around me. It was becoming a blizzard, but I didn't care. I might stay out all night if it suited me. Besides, this was a wonderful time to hunt, regardless of the fact that I'd already fed tonight. No one would see me coming. I could problably do an open kill; no need to drag another soon-to-be corpse into my basement.
     
    Devin Delano, Nakuru

    <OOC>(My character has two personalities. Devin=Red (vampire) Denae=blue(Normal)<OOC>

    The hot African sun beat down on me as I drove in my topless jeep home. It had been a hard day at work. So many tourists, such a long tour...but now, I could go home and relax. The warm air swept across my face, but I didn't notice. I was too busy day dreaming about the cold shower I would take when I got home.
     
    I slid one of the numerous knives I kept onb me over to the girl without saying a word. Around here it was a request to go to one of the private rooms on the top floor. She slid it back and got up, signifying acceptance. I sheperded her to my personal favorite of these, a replica of the thirteenth chamber from The Masque of the Red Death.
     
    <OOC>Oh, the masque of red death. nice touch<OOC>

    There was a small, squeaky voice I heard not too far away, laughing. It was a child's voice; only one. My mouth watered to imagine it. The sweet, innocent blood of a child. I had never tried it, but I knew the rumours. Perhaps now was the time. I walked slowly towards the noise, a huge grin slapped on my face.
     
    It was probably my favorite meal in a long time, particularly since she believed my sexual pretense for so long, even after I jammed a knife into her lower spine, paralyzing her legs. I kept my canines filed for occasions just like this, when just cutting wasn't going to satisfy me. I made sure to drag the affair out, delighting in the look of sheer terror on the child's face when I finally bit the neck. Her body fit the closet nearly perfectly and given the presence of so many S&M in this district people it wouldn't really be investigated, possibly not even reported.
     
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