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Kapera

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Kapera du Rhym

Posted: Dec 29 2005, 11:34 PM

Don't be messin' with fire

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Posts: 80
Member No.: 7
Joined: 29-December 05

This is the right place, right?

And I totally don't understand this white background when I quote...

Username - Kapera du Rhym
Character's name - Kapera du Rhym
Character's level - Level 1
Evidence of Experience -
From a site I'm an admin at:

QUOTE

[bgcolor=black]Kapera du Rhym weaved in and out of the multitude of bodies, the rank of sweat and blood causing a pounding headache. If she had a choice she wouldn’t have thrust herself into the throng, but this was the only way for her to survive – off of other people. Her hand slipped into one pocket, and was rewarded with a used tissue, a couple of coins, and a large wallet. She’ll look through it later. Now wasn’t the time.

She moved on, spotting a rich looking elderly. Dressed in layers of ruffles, with jewels bedecked on the dress and her body, she emanated the placing of someone high on the social hierarchy. She’d be a jackpot for Kapera. Sneaking over, inconspicuous to the huge horde of people, she neared the woman. It was then that she spotted three large burly looking men surrounding her, as if they were bodyguards. Bodyguards? It spurned Kapera on, and she neared. With a tricky swipe and light fingers, she was able to swipe a handful of things from the woman’s purse. She would have been able to grab some more but she was stopped by one of the men.

How he had been able to see her was a mystery, but he had seen her. Shouting a surprised and angered remark, he retrieved a large club from his belt and loomed towards her, the two others not far behind. “Hey, you,” the man shouted. “Foul creature, what do you think you’re doing?” Kapera jolted to reality and starting running, but wasn’t fast enough. The largest man swung hard with the club and clipped Kapera’s right shoulder. She yelped and fell to her knees. Ignoring the pain shooting through her arm, she pushed herself up and began running, only to be struck on her hip.

Down on both knees and hands, she noticed the blood dripping down on the dusty ground. She was struck again on the back, and her whole body collapsed. “You think you’re so brilliant, don’t you, little girl. Huh? Just look at you.” All three men were surrounding her now, looking down at her, reading to strike her. “Stop! The old woman walked up and pushed the three men aside. “Torturing this girl is not the answer. And I want my jewels back. My pearls. My lovely pearls.” She reached down with an old knobbly hand, covered in age spots, and pulled Kapera’s head up by her hair. “Listen to me bitch. You picked the wrong woman to deal with. See these jewels?” The old woman stuffed her sausage-like fingers in front of Kapera’s face. Each finger was bedecked with at least two rings, all of them large and tacky.

Unable to stand it, she pulled together her energy and with one hand yanked the old woman down to the ground. In her surprise, the old woman and let go of Kapera’s hair, giving Kapera the ability to get up and run away. Or fight back. “Well you picked the wrong girl to hit on. Old woman. Kapera spit on the old woman’s cheek, leaving a blood-filled wad of mucus. With a fast movement she reached into her clothes and with the flick of her wrist let go a swarm of poisoned darts. Each one found their way into flesh, whether it was of one of the brawny bodyguards, or the old woman.

At last. Peace reached Kapera’s pounding head. The pain in her shoulder, hip and lower back had been suppressed to a dull ache, but they were still holding Kapera back. Before leaving to the back alley she made sure to collect every piece of jewelry the old woman had. Every goddamn piece of gold, silver, every single pendant and ring. They were all hers now.

Limping towards the nearest dark alley, she sat down on a large crate and set her heavy sack down. Selling these trinkets would reel in big money. Money she desperately needed. Money she could probably use to buy some more clothing, or some weapons. Heaving a heavy sigh she said to herself, “That downright near killed me.” With the realization came a sense of exhilaration. It had been dangerous, risking her life like that, but she did it every day. Several times a day. And each time there was a sort of joy in it, something only stealing could fulfill. She was going crazy. Crazy.[/bgcolor]

Same site, different character:

QUOTE

[bgcolor=black]Dorjan had been drinking from the small glass when the door of the tavern flapped open and a stranger came in. Observant and knowledgeable, Dorjan knew everybody wherever he went. There wasn't anybody that slipped through his radar, that went undetected. He could recognize each face that had set foot into the tavern. Each and every face. So when a new man came into the door, someone who had a foreign face, a frown marred his face. Downing the rest of his drink, he turned to the bartender and clunked down another gold coin. "One more." As he lightly and rhythmically tapped the fingers of his hand, the sleeve of his right arm began to rise, and the light caught the image of a scorpion on his inner wrist. Two letters, D and E were entwined between the pincers of the scorpion, it's head facing Dorjan's palm.

The tattoo was secret that only he knew. Along with a few close others. The tattoo was a great part of his life, something he'd rather die then speak of. It was, ultimately, his creation. Something flickered behind his scarlet eyes as he went back to watching the stranger. He took notice of the worn black cloak and smirked. The expression grew when he noticed the poor state the quill and parchment were in. It seemed the strange was little financially unsatisfied. He swiveled in his chair and turned to signal the bartender.� "Brownen." This was the bartender's name. "See that stranger over there?" Brownen nodded and frowned. "Don't reckon I've seen him before. Must be new. You know him?" Dorjan shook his head, his jetty hair falling into his face.

"Do me a favor, will ya, Brownen?" He waited for the nod from Brownen and continued. "Give him one of your weakest liquors, on me. Tellin' from the looks of him, I don't think he's ready for somethin' too strong. Weak. Keep it weak." He nodded and ushered Brownen to hurry. He didn't have all day.

Finishing his own drink, he watched the movement of Brownen, and followed him with his red eyes as the big burly man prepared the stranger’s drink. Standing up, Dorjan left two more gold coins on the counter of the bar, and gave Brownen a nod. He would be leaving now. Glaring the time, he was needed elsewhere. But he so wanted to speak with this stranger, watch his expression when he takes a sip of the liquor. Cursing to himself, he slung the large warm traveling cloak over his shoulder and strolled over to the stranger, as if he did have all the time in the world. If he was going to be late, he might as well be late for a reason. Not that anyone should speak against him. After all, he was the master. Smirking to himself, he sat down on the chair beside the stranger, and set his cloak down on the table next to him. He should start out nice and everything. After all, this could be an enemy, and there was that saying, “Know they enemy” and what not.

“Well, big guy.” He smirked again. “I know everybody in here except for you. Now, I wonder why. Where you from, buddy?” He motioned with his head to Brownen, and he stumbled over, the stranger’s drink in his hand. Setting it down in front of the stranger, he stood stock still, as if he were waiting for something. Growling, Dorjan motioned him to leave. After he had unwillingly thrown him a copper coin. Turning his attention back to the stranger, he frowned.[/bgcolor]

Do you really want five examples? I tend to make them really long...

From a different site:

QUOTE

[bgcolor=black]She had been cooped up inside for the past few days, and the sudden sense of freedom was overbearing, drilling her thirst for blood. She knew that in the end she would have to abstain, hold back from the ecstasy of such sweet treasure. Nonetheless, the thought of the viscose liquid flowing down her throat brought her hopes up.

Tonight was like any other night, and her garments were the same. It was the same leather top and bottom, the same trench coat and large boots. Only this time, two necklaces lay laced around her neck, the amulet at the end of each chain resting in the valley between her breasts. Parduc It had been a long time since she had called him, and wondered whether the connection between them was still there, if it was still existent. It had to be. She held up the wooden totem in one pale hand and whispered a few words, the language unfamiliar even to herself. It was inane, something passed down from her mother most likely.

A twig cracked behind her and the familiar growl reached her ears. Slowly turning around, her eyes sought out the bright yellow ones and a smile immediately brightened her face. "Parduc. You are too good to me." And as if he understood her words, he padded over to her and rubbed his black cheek against her upper thigh. "It's been a long time, my friend."

She bent down to ruffle the skin behind his ears and the other pendant, with a blood-red gleam, caught the light of the moon. Parduc roared back and slashed at Snow’s throat, drawing three dark scars on her pale skin. Snow frowned, and let what basic healing powers Vampyres have take over.

“Parduc?” He growled in response, showing his long sharp canines. “Parduc, what is this? Why are you like this?” He growled again, and as if having given in to a stronger panther, whined and lowered his head, his tail curling between his legs in the submission state. Seeing the state that came over him, a single tear escaped from her left eye. Murmuring a few words, Parduc disappeared and the wooden totem settled back around her neck. Parduc’s reactions had been disconcerting, and her curiosity over her newly reinstated necklace returned.

Quickly swatting the tear away with the backside of her hand, she walked deeper into the woods, her boots thudding loudly against the ground. Her arms reached out brushing limbs and branches away, inconspicuous to the large welts appearing, disappearing, and appearing on her arms. She finally stopped and crumpled into a heap on the ground, the coat flapping around her. Her usual stony face crumpled to vulnerability and her stiff back curled over. Through most of her vagabond years, Parduc had been apart of it. A large part of it. And now, now that he wouldn’t come within ten feet of her, it made her…depressed? Sad? But she didn’t know those feelings, could not feel emotion. What was coming over her?

She heard a footstep behind her and her back immediately became stiff. Now wasn’t the right time for her to come face to face with anyone. With the rampant thoughts in her mind, one thing could lead to another and she could be in a position she didn’t want to be in. Standing up, she turned around to face whoever it was, a look of hatred on her face. Not for the person who had decided to disturb her space, but for the weakness that had overcome her. She was becoming defenseless. At least this way, with bravado, she could still keep her dignity. But whatever self-respect she had, it wasn’t much.

“Who’s there?”[/bgcolor]

Same character:

QUOTE

[bgcolor=black]Pure ecstasy clamped through her veins, and her eyes rolled back. Sweet torture had been so hard to endure, but at last it had been satiated. As she knelt down, her lips lapping up the last drops of blood, her ebony hair fanned across her face, creating a carpet of black velvet. The thick metallic juices ran down her throat, but beyond that she could feel nothing.

Satisfied, and sure that she had not left one drop behind, she wiped her mouth with the backside of her hand. Her incisors sinking back, hidden from public view, she swept off in a whirl of cloth. A young man lay left behind, two holes shown in the soft skin of his neck. He would soon wake, and thank Snow for the Immortal life.[/bgcolor]

Same site, different character:

QUOTE

[bgcolor=black]The stuffy room was silent, the heavy cloud of suspense weighing down on the man’s shoulders. He had been running for days with holes in his pockets – he was broke and in debt to the high lord, the man who ruled the alleyways and underground garages, and the young kids who spent their high school dropout days smoking weed.

Silenced by a missing tongue, he could only cower as the dark figure neared. Slender legs approached, each accompanied by a quiet ‘click’ of stiletto heels. Realizing it was only a woman he stood straighter, a wolfish grin on his flushed face. “Hey babe. Need a fine f-” His sentence was cut off by a kick to the chest. Unbalanced and surprised, he fell backwards.

Feeling vulnerable on his back, his treasure open for her to kick, he shuffled back in a crab-like motion. He only stopped when the foot-wearing stiletto balanced precariously on his chest. “Aw, c’mon babe, I was just-” her heel moved to his neck. “kidding?”

There was a sickening crack that echoed in the room and down the halls, but as a door opened, the loud music of the dance club washed it away. Removing her heel from his neck, she gave a disgusted look as she wiped the blood onto his hoary shirt. Bending down, she removed packs of white powder from his pockets, and a silver watch from his wrist. “Payments” she said. “Payments to the Lord.” In that part of town, word was law, and the Lord created the law. One offence and you miss your tongue, second offence and you’re dead – a special visit by Cythera.[/bgcolor]

Other Site Evidence? - Demon High -- I'm Snow, Cythera Avilla, Hadrian Ormand, Valfreyja Horn, and Amitola Migina
Kingdoms of Tealor? -- I'm Kapera and Dorjan
They're other sites, but I have a feeling this post is already too long.
Read over Rules? - Yes

Ian Askuren	Posted: Dec 29 2005, 11:46 PM
Level 11 Group: Admin Posts: 10,326 Member No.: 1 Joined: 10-December 05	Yeah, its somethign with the skin, I need to fix it. Also, your approved, amazing examples!!

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