- Invitation Status
- Look for groups
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- Writing Levels
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Genres
- Horror, fantasy, sci-fi.
"Our origin is steeped in confusion and obfuscation.
We are the forgotten dead, vengeful and rapacious. We are the get of a mad wizard, long since slain. We are the whelps of mortal men and Demons...
But I prefer a much older story.
They say that the gods abandoned us because we found a way to murder one. We slew that impossible thing, and drank the divinity from its veins. For this, we were cursed.
I'll admit to ego, in my preference for this tale. Inheritor to a deicide! How must one live up to that legacy?
It begins with the same waking death in which you now find yourself, little one. I'll not lie - you are a dead thing, prone to rot, seared by sunlight, burned by pure waters, thirsting for blood to sustain your decaying frame. This will seem like an eyeblink, an awkward adolescence, one hundred years hence. Even now you must feel it, hm? The strength, the heightened senses. Stop breathing; it only makes you look foolish.
No, air is not life, for you.
Let us first teach you to hunt, little fledgeling."
Monster. Outcast. Inheritor. Vampire.
You died because your sire demanded it. You exist between life and death at her will. You hunger because hunger is your nature, now.
Resurrected in your own rotting corpse, blood is the only way to maintain the constant decay of your body, and the best is taken from those still living.
The sun will destroy you, and pure water scorches like acid, but the sickness, the wounds, the mortality which once plagued you is now... gone.
This too shall pass. In time, you will be a lord of the night, for this is your right. To be one of the secret kings of the world, playing the mortal cattle like an instrument, doing what thou wilt.
All things have a price, of course, and when there is no one to tell you right or wrong, all the consequences fall on your shoulders...
Setting & System: CDA Special Edit - revised
We are the forgotten dead, vengeful and rapacious. We are the get of a mad wizard, long since slain. We are the whelps of mortal men and Demons...
But I prefer a much older story.
They say that the gods abandoned us because we found a way to murder one. We slew that impossible thing, and drank the divinity from its veins. For this, we were cursed.
I'll admit to ego, in my preference for this tale. Inheritor to a deicide! How must one live up to that legacy?
It begins with the same waking death in which you now find yourself, little one. I'll not lie - you are a dead thing, prone to rot, seared by sunlight, burned by pure waters, thirsting for blood to sustain your decaying frame. This will seem like an eyeblink, an awkward adolescence, one hundred years hence. Even now you must feel it, hm? The strength, the heightened senses. Stop breathing; it only makes you look foolish.
No, air is not life, for you.
Let us first teach you to hunt, little fledgeling."
Monster. Outcast. Inheritor. Vampire.
You died because your sire demanded it. You exist between life and death at her will. You hunger because hunger is your nature, now.
Resurrected in your own rotting corpse, blood is the only way to maintain the constant decay of your body, and the best is taken from those still living.
The sun will destroy you, and pure water scorches like acid, but the sickness, the wounds, the mortality which once plagued you is now... gone.
This too shall pass. In time, you will be a lord of the night, for this is your right. To be one of the secret kings of the world, playing the mortal cattle like an instrument, doing what thou wilt.
All things have a price, of course, and when there is no one to tell you right or wrong, all the consequences fall on your shoulders...
Setting & System: CDA Special Edit - revised