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Steam Name: Floki
Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:32769262
Why do you think you should get this whitelist?:
I understand that many of you may not know me, but I do have quite a few friends that actively play on this server and have convinced me to try it out. The character itself treads along uncommon grounds and might even be risky to implement, however all I ask for is a chance. So far I've had a pre-meditated idea of what sort of character I'd like to pursue, that being an Augustine Vampire that has a fleshed out back story of an old vampire who would be master.
How long have you been roleplaying for?:
10 Years. 2 Years G-MOD RP. 8 Years Warcraft 3 RP (Don't ask, but it was great.)
Other Notes:
The back story that is provided is a bit lengthy, so I decided to combine some of the example requirements within the text. However, I felt both my feeding and combat RP was not properly and descriptively conveyed in the back story so I will be providing examples of those, but, there is more than enough passive elements within the background to fulfill the requirement. The passive areas will have a *[P]* to start and then a *[/P]* to end.
Write the backstory of your character [No minimum or maximum length, use common sense and discretion]:
Veronica lived as a farmer's girl in 1332 within England during the rule of King Edward III who was handling a kingdom that was just recently under disastrous reign of his father, Edward II.
Veronica's father, Edgar was absent wife, she died during childbirth, but he withheld that information from his daughter, despite the anger he had held to her. It was rarely a noticeable thing; he did a great job in disguising his hatred for his daughter, masking the emotion with politeness and constant smiles, at least that is how it went on for until 1353.
The rumours of a plague reached Edgar and Veronica; however, a few months since then, they were no longer rumours. Edgar fell terribly ill. It is when he realized he was not going to live at that point, he had to get everything off his chest, at which point he began blaming his daughter for everything, her mother's death, the poor seasons they have been experiencing, her prude behaviour resulting in no marriages, and even the black plague itself.
The visage of a loving father was shattered within moments. At the time, one of the priests that came by to provide blessings overheard the spiteful words of Edgar and smuggled Veronica from isolation to a large, decorated, church. Holy artifacts, bibles, crosses, and icons decorated the sacred building. The architecture and priceless items lying around was indescribable. She was sheltered there for about a week before the high bishop began to take notice of the periodic absences of the priest.
*[P]*
Deep within the cellar of the church, a place rarely traversed, Veronica was laying in a bed the generous holy man provided her with. She was a simple woman, suffering a traumatic loss and just now having the truth sink in. The sound of footsteps were heard descending into the cellar. Veronica had assumed it was the priest that was helping her, however, it was the high bishop. He was clad in fine linen garments, a lengthy robe all the way down to his ankles. Atop his head was a Mitre with a gold plate worn around the forehead with a unique design depicting his servitude to the Holy Christ and his Father. Veronica was speechless; she curled up and simply looked up at the High Bishop, unsure of how he will react to her stay. He slowly began to shake his head.
"What is thy name, my child?" The Bishop asked with a soft tone.
"I am, Veronica. I - I am not in trouble, am I? I don't mean to intrude but, my father fell ill and is likely dead at this point. He... blamed me for everything negative that happened in our lives." The emotional farmers girl explained to the bishop, hoping for some genuine support from the Bishop.
"A sad, but, character building experience. I imagine, bishop McGunthery is responsible for your stay here? Not that I blame him, I'm simply of curious mind." He let out a lengthy sigh, but kept his expression still and the same throughout the conversation. It almost looked like a familiar trick that Edgar pulled on her, but she did not want to accuse the priest of anything, she was too scared to. "Alright, very well, I will look the other way for a desperate soul in need of help, though I guide you to remain quiet about this, otherwise it is entirely possible of a sick and angry mob to come marching at our holy doors. Sinners are dying out there, God is smiting them." The High Bishop was obviously referring to the black plague.
"Understood, father. I will stay quiet as a mouse." If only she knew the irony of such a statement. Veronica relaxed at this point remaining in the bed roll provided for her.
It was dark and quiet. Within the cellar, Veronica constantly heard rats and mice crawling about, it was certainly an unfortunate situation from a modern perspective. That is when she contracted the same disease that had killed her father, along with millions of other Europeans at the time. She woke up the next morning feeling horribly ill. When the High Bishop came to check up on her during the nighttime, he expressed a frown for once. He was very displeased with Veronica's condition. Just the day before he claimed God was smiting sinners. "Perhaps this is the doing of the Devil himself." He looked over his shoulder then back at Veronica as she laid there on the bed, sick, helpless, and on the verge of death. "Misses Veronica... I must apologize on what I will be bestowing you with as it can easily drive one to commit evil, but, I shall not allow Lucifer to kill you with pestilence and claim an innocent soul." The High Bishop brought his palm up to his mouth. Two fangs surged out from his gums, both devices sharing equal length and sharper than almost any local black smith short sword. He brought his palm up to the two fangs and pierced his palm directly in the center. It provided him with an image of Christ, a nail ripping into the center of Christ's palm.
Drops of blood began to drip into Veronica's mouth. "Drink, Misses Veronica, you will live out your life and even more. But... this life will come with its negatives, my dear."
A storm of steps and a slamming of a thick wooden door is heard. "High Bishop, do not tell me you have cursed this soul!" It was the priest that had originally taken her in, McGunthery.
"Ease yourself, McGunthery, I did what was necessary. Satan had casted his pestilence on her, God would not smite an innocent soul." He paused for a moment, waiting for some sort of reaction. McGunthery only offered silence. "Is it not obvious McGunthery? This is Satan's plague, he is stealing the souls of the innocence. I am... rescuing her from such a fate of eternal damnation." The High Bishop seemed sure of himself, and he was trying his best to convince the loyal Bishop, McGunthery.
"High Bishop, with all due respect, but what you've provided her with, is eternal damnation. God works in mysterious ways, you should not have intervened." McGunthery's words did not sit well with the High Bishop Vampire.
The High Bishop offered up a rather stern and strong tone, "McGunthery, she is being given an opportunity to experience life, a life that the Devil is trying to rob her of. A soul that the Devil is trying to rob God of." McGunthery fell silent, bewildered by the High Bishop's actions and philosophy.
"Very well High Bishop, I have faith in you and I only hope you can raise this one properly..." Yes, there was a lot of responsibility set on the High Bishop, he was tasked with teaching Veronica control, secrecy, and an honourable principle.
The High Bishop on a daily basis provided Veronica with his blood, knowing that she was going to die any day now. Eventually that time had arrived. Veronica slipped from the world of life, only an hour later to return to it. She opened her eyes and had this insatiable urge to feed. However, she was trapped within a coffin. "Hello!? Help me!" She began to bang her fist against the coffin door, attempting to get out or at least alert the others in her vicinity that she needs to be released.
"Veronica. You took longer than expected. How are you feeling?" It was the High Bishop's voice, penetrating the wood oak coffin lid. "I imagine you are feeling quite different right now, an urge?" He waits for Veronica's answer.
Veronica inhaled deeply and tried to relax herself, so that she can answer the High Bishop's questions. "I feel different, I cannot put a finger on it, father. I am hungry." The High Bishop grabbed the lid of the coffin and pulled it off, the nail ripped from the frame. There happened to be an overhanging lantern above the High Bishop, hanging from the ceiling. As the lid was torn from its framework, the light blinded Veronica for a brief moment, her eyes quickly adjusting.
At that point, Veronica began to follow the teachings of the High Bishop. The most important principle he shared was control on feeding, for he vowed to kill her himself if she was to take a life of an innocent. He drilled these principles in her head, and when the time came to it, he over watched her feeding to make sure the one being fed on did not die. After at least thirty similar occurrences, he finally entrusted her to go on her own, at least that is what he wanted her to believe. So, she went out one night to find a soul to feed on.
Veronica walked the dark streets of an English village in search of someone to nurture her. What better place than a tavern? She thought. She stepped through the door and searched around the place, there were many men there, and the only women were the tavern wenches. It was uncomfortable to say the least, and Veronica was dressed in a rather enriching gown.
"Ey' sweetheart! How 'bout you and I go trap 'eselves in a room, 'ey?" The fat bastard with the raspy and gloated voice barked out at Veronica. The sound of his blood pumping was extraordinary fast considering his weight and the amount he has been drinking.
Veronica casted a fake but convincing smile to the obese, perverted old man. "Alright then, get us a room." The situation itself felt very wrong to her, but she needed to feed, and she needed to do so by the High Bishops rules. The fat man checked in a room and Veronica accompanied him there. They stepped into the small room, and immediately the fat man took off his shirt allowing for his gut to spill out. Veronica was close to vomiting, she casted yet another fake smile, but anyone with a right mind can understand that it was fake. The fat man did not care however, he was under the impression that she was going to get paid after her services.
Veronica proceeded to gesture with her right hand for him to turn around. He let out a deep chuckle, imagining something dirty and naughty to occur behind the closed door. That is when she slipped her right arm around his neck and placed him into a choke-hold. The big oaf leaned back, sure Veronica was a vampire, but this person was quite big! She struggled underneath his weight and was hurled along with him against the wooden locked door. As far as anyone knew, they were having a 'fun ' time.
Veronica dug her elbow deep within his neckline; the man's triple chin almost covered the forearm that was tightly wrapped around his neck. The man's head and face began to grow ripe red like a tomato. He began to lose oxygen and slip out of consciousness; she waited a few seconds before the behemoth had plummeted to the floor. Veronica had frowned and bent her knees, her fangs had popped out. She leaned over to his neck and sank her teeth into his jugular, and made sure not to wiggle her mouth around or shred the mans neck, otherwise he would die quickly. The hot crimson, alcohol filled blood began to be ingested by Veronica. The alcohol within his stream was certainly something she did not prefer, but she was not so meticulous about it. At least not now.
After a sufficient amount of blood was leached from the big man. She unrolled a set of medieval bandages, and wrapped up the wound she had inflicted upon him. She then left him there and left the tavern in haste, only to bump into the High Bishop outside who had been over watching her, but from a distance this time to ensure her path of discipline not be altered or broken by temptation or blood lust.
*[/P]*
Approximately two hundred years since her contraction of vampirism, Veronica had lost the High Bishop to a Lycan attack. It was the first time she had ever experienced Lycans and the threat they portrayed to her kind. The High Bishop had died defending Veronica from a group of Lycans all of which three died and one survived but injured by the Master Vampire, the High Bishop. Luckily, for Veronica who was ill equipped and unknowledgeable about Lycanthropy had the High Bishop there to defend her. Her second father had died and it was something she took to heart, devastated by the incident. Having a father figure around for two centuries, only to have him plucked from existence by a pack of de-ranged murderous Lycans. She at that point wanted to taste vengeance, but knowing the Bishop, he would advise against it.
Despite Veronica's assumption of the Bishops advice against tracking the Lycan, she decided to go against it due to the spur of vengeance and anger clouding her mind. She needed to do this and at this point in time she did not hold her life in such high regard absent the Bishop around. So, she began working on a way to track down the Lycan that survived. Tracking the Lycan was no hard task, it was wounded, it left a trail of blood behind. She followed the scent of the blood.
*[P]*
She followed the trail into a vast forest with tall trees, it was still nighttime and Veronica had frequently heard a series of howls be it Lycan or mere wolves. At this point, she got herself into some trouble; she overstepped her boundaries, played right into a trap. The Lycan that killed the Bishop had appeared; it let out a menacing growl as it circled around Veronica. She stayed silent, staring into the eyes of the glowing killer. That is preciesly when the air split as a crossbow bolt hurled through the air, the bolt tip shined under the moonlight. It was a silver tip, and it dug itself straight into the Lycan's torso.
"Lady, what the hell are you doing here!? Do you know how dangerous those things are?" The man spoke out from the shrubbery just over to her left. "Shouldn't be out here alone with wolves running about."
"I know that was no ordinary wolf. It killed my father..." Veronica replied to the man, in a tone of grief. He stepped out of concealment and approached Veronica unaware of her status or race for that matter.
"They're werewolves lady, half man, half wolf. You're damn lucky I came when I did, these suckers have a nasty allergy to silver. Puts them down, if you get them in a right spot." The man explained.
"Who're you exactly?" Veronica questioned him, unsettled as to how he has so much information about the Lycanthropes.
"Thought it was obvious. I'm a hunter of the supernatural, werewolves and demons are the things I go after." He loaded in another bolt into his crossbow.
"Demons? There are demons?" Veronica could not believe of how much supernatural knowledge she was being provided with in a mere day.
"Yeah, you know, Demon Blood Suckers, or some of the other hunters like to identify them as vampires. I just call them blood thirsty demons." Veronica tensed up a bit, he had quite the hatred or misconception painted out in his mind.
"And.. how does a hunter take a demon down?" She asked to know what methods of attack she needed to avoid.
"Listen, lady, we need to go, these bastards don't usually travel alone, they have a pack." He grabbed a hold of her shoulder and guided her out of the forest.
Veronica however, was bent on finding out the methods a hunter may use to kill vampires. "Demons, how do you kill them?"
"We use a herb called verveine, it's practically toxic to them. Coat the stuff on the tips of arrows or blades and it brings them down pretty easily. Or you can lure one into the sunlight. The beams of the lord will bring the sucker down, ghastly demonic things..." Veronica twitched, she wanted to prove him wrong, but did not dare to reveal her identity to the hunter. It bothered her that she was being called a demon, she has worshiped the lord since both births. "Though, some of the bastards try building up immunity to it by digesting or injecting verveine on a daily basis but in small amounts. From experience though, never worked on the demons favour, takes a lot of time, and because they take it, they're practically vulnerable all the time." The hunter slung the cross bow over his back and furrowed his brows, "Why do you care so much about the demons anyways? You just survived a werewolf."
It was true, Veronica had show quite a lot of interest in the man's tales of 'demons' making her a tad suspicious. "Uhh, I just wanted to know- in case I ever have a run in with one of them."
The hunter nodded slowly, he was a bit skeptical of the woman but he did not really delve deep into an investigation nor want to due to the lycan activity in the forest, "Right, well..." He gestured towards the city, trying to get her away from the forest. "You better go, and don't bother telling people about it, they'll think you're crazy." With that conclusion, Veronica departed from the edges of the forest. She was not expecting such a night, she sought vengeance, but when that silver bolt killed the lycan, it felt no different, it provided no gratification what so ever. After that, she stayed with the principles she was taught by the High Bishop, and remained a firm believer of God, and his son, Jesus Christ.
*[/P]*
It is 2015, she is now in LA. Her kind, the lycans kind, is all public knowledge now. However, her principles, discipline, and lone wolf behaviour has kept her alive for this long, and she will continue to look after her self-preservation and follow her principles that are dear and law to her.
Give an example of Feeding RP [10 Lines min]:
** The hospice was large and reeked of death, however it was a much simpler way of nurturing herself. Veronica had managed to swipe a nurses uniform (A proper one, not some skanky one) from the change room. She slipped herself into the hospice area and began the search for patients who were vegetables, unconscious, or was nearing death. Considering it was the hospice branch of the hospital, everyone there was at that stage. **
** Veronica took a peak at the file posted at room 51H-B. Matthew McConison, brain tumour, stage four cancer. Veronica emitted a pitiful sigh. She set the file back into its respective holder and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind herself and locking it. She carefully approached the sick man, who was currently hooked up to a breathing apparatus.**
**Veronica stood at the side of the bed and dug into her shirt, pulling out an ancient looking cross from the period she was born in. "Almighty God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has given you the new birth of water and the Spirit and has forgiven you of all your sins, strengthen you with His grace to life everlasting. Amen." She provided the man with part of a liturgy and extended her right index finger, placing a touch upon his forehead. She dragged it down and then brought it up dragging it horizontally just above the center, crossing the cancer patient.**
** It was time to get to the nitty gritty. "Bless I, Oh Lord, and these thy gifts, which I am about to receive, from thy bounty, through Christ, Our Lord. Amen." Veronica finished her prayer before the meal and proceeded to conceal the cross beneath her shirt, as if to hide God's view of her horrific act, something she at times was ashamed of, but it was for her survival. Two fangs had popped up, and her breathing became slightly heavier as the need for blood settles in. The woman's eyes transition from a pure European blue to a vicious demonic crimson red. **
** The old man had simply laid there, unable to move, hooked up to a machine, ready to die within days, or weeks.**
** Veronica leaned downwards and angled the old mans head off to the side in the most gentle manner she can do, as if to not disturb him. Despite her attempts of being gentle, he was about to have a set of fangs be buried within his neck.**
** The two tips of the fangs slipped into the man's neck. The rush of warm blood making immediate contact with her teeth. She began to feed on the man, nurturing herself. As she did this, she kept a close eye on the heart-rate monitor to make sure she had no heavy impact on him. So far, it was a stable pulse, which was good.**
** The man began to flicker his eyelids up and down, barely turning his head to the side to take a look at the top of Veronica's head. He was already weak and could not move, unable to really react to this invasion. Veronica knew exactly how long she had to keep her teeth inside of him to maximize nurturing efficiency and keep the patient alive.**
** It was just a few more moments, she counted the time in her head to make sure it was no longer, or shorter. She carefully released the grip she had on him with her fangs, allowing them to fall back into place of concealment, producing a minor snapping noise. The red colour of the eyes begins to whirl into her pupil, vanishing entirely. The blue European eye colour came back. She wiped her mouth with her wrist and quickly looked around for a bandage. Upon finding one she set it onto the mans neck wound. She bowed her head in a respectful manner and stepped outside of the room. "Thank you Matthew, may you have a wonderful after-life in God's Palace."
Give an example of Combat RP [15 lines min]:
** "Lord God, your own Son was delivered into the hands of the wicked, yet he prayed for his persecutors and overcame hatred with the blood of the cross. Relive the sufferings of the innocent victims of war, grant them peace of mind, healing of body, and a renewed faith in your protection and care. Grant this through Christ our Lord. Amen." Veronica stood still in front of the turning Lycan. **
** "Fuck you and your God!" The Lycan spoke immediately after in shifted into its naturalistic form. "I will rip you limb from limb, blood whore!" The tall lycan leaned down and began to run towards Veronica on all fours. **
** Veronica frowned and found much distaste in the Lycan's heresy, however it was not that trait that drove her to fight, it was simply self-defense. Veronica sunk a hand into her right pocket and withdrew an old silver blade she acquired at the church where both McGunthery and the High Bishop had worked. A relic in her eyes, maintained when needed. It was sharp as ever. **
** The Lycan reached a distance to where it was about to collide into her and tackle Veronica to the ground. **
** As the Lycan neared a leaping position, the vampire dashed off to the side, allowing the brick wall to deal with the Lycan's head.**
** The Lycan was hoping to pummel Veronica into the wall, however she was a bit too quick for the lesser-experienced Lycan. The wolf slammed its body through the weak brick wall. Dust and debris flew all around in a chaotic manner. **
** Veronica pursued her opportunity to counter-attack the werewolf, however she had no aim to kill him. She dashed at him from behind and attempted to dig the silver blade into the wolfs left back leg. **
** The Lycan was slightly disorientated by the force exhibited onto his head, so the dash from the rear came as a surprise. He felt a massive pain in his left leg, letting out a deafening howl. The Lycan dropped to his knees, swiping from his left to his back with his long vicious claws. **
** The claw shredded through Veronica's coat and even drew some blood. She pulled back away from the Lycan and took her blade with her. She made no attempt to recover and fight, she attempted a retreat through the doorway behind her.**
** The Lycan was hurt and there was no way it would be able to catch up to her with a damaged leg. The Lycan turned into a man shortly after, wheezing in pain from the leg wound.**
**Veronica did as planned, retreated from the building block in case any more werewolves had showed up.**
OOC Notes:
Thanks for going through my application, I certainly hope it did not bore anyone as it did include a lot of detail, that certainly can be argued both needles or useful to the back-story development of the character. I left out the rank / power of Veronica, but to those that may not realize, it would be Master given her age is 683, and the High Bishop himself was a Master. Now while I understand a Master holds a lot of responsibility of not to power game and upset the player base of the server, I went with a very pacifist mindset for the character, a character which can help in developing many more characters due to her preference and belief in leaving the victim she fed on alive. If there any questions, I'd much rather prefer steam messages or PM's.
Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:32769262
Why do you think you should get this whitelist?:
I understand that many of you may not know me, but I do have quite a few friends that actively play on this server and have convinced me to try it out. The character itself treads along uncommon grounds and might even be risky to implement, however all I ask for is a chance. So far I've had a pre-meditated idea of what sort of character I'd like to pursue, that being an Augustine Vampire that has a fleshed out back story of an old vampire who would be master.
How long have you been roleplaying for?:
10 Years. 2 Years G-MOD RP. 8 Years Warcraft 3 RP (Don't ask, but it was great.)
Other Notes:
The back story that is provided is a bit lengthy, so I decided to combine some of the example requirements within the text. However, I felt both my feeding and combat RP was not properly and descriptively conveyed in the back story so I will be providing examples of those, but, there is more than enough passive elements within the background to fulfill the requirement. The passive areas will have a *[P]* to start and then a *[/P]* to end.
Write the backstory of your character [No minimum or maximum length, use common sense and discretion]:
Veronica lived as a farmer's girl in 1332 within England during the rule of King Edward III who was handling a kingdom that was just recently under disastrous reign of his father, Edward II.
Veronica's father, Edgar was absent wife, she died during childbirth, but he withheld that information from his daughter, despite the anger he had held to her. It was rarely a noticeable thing; he did a great job in disguising his hatred for his daughter, masking the emotion with politeness and constant smiles, at least that is how it went on for until 1353.
The rumours of a plague reached Edgar and Veronica; however, a few months since then, they were no longer rumours. Edgar fell terribly ill. It is when he realized he was not going to live at that point, he had to get everything off his chest, at which point he began blaming his daughter for everything, her mother's death, the poor seasons they have been experiencing, her prude behaviour resulting in no marriages, and even the black plague itself.
The visage of a loving father was shattered within moments. At the time, one of the priests that came by to provide blessings overheard the spiteful words of Edgar and smuggled Veronica from isolation to a large, decorated, church. Holy artifacts, bibles, crosses, and icons decorated the sacred building. The architecture and priceless items lying around was indescribable. She was sheltered there for about a week before the high bishop began to take notice of the periodic absences of the priest.
*[P]*
Deep within the cellar of the church, a place rarely traversed, Veronica was laying in a bed the generous holy man provided her with. She was a simple woman, suffering a traumatic loss and just now having the truth sink in. The sound of footsteps were heard descending into the cellar. Veronica had assumed it was the priest that was helping her, however, it was the high bishop. He was clad in fine linen garments, a lengthy robe all the way down to his ankles. Atop his head was a Mitre with a gold plate worn around the forehead with a unique design depicting his servitude to the Holy Christ and his Father. Veronica was speechless; she curled up and simply looked up at the High Bishop, unsure of how he will react to her stay. He slowly began to shake his head.
"What is thy name, my child?" The Bishop asked with a soft tone.
"I am, Veronica. I - I am not in trouble, am I? I don't mean to intrude but, my father fell ill and is likely dead at this point. He... blamed me for everything negative that happened in our lives." The emotional farmers girl explained to the bishop, hoping for some genuine support from the Bishop.
"A sad, but, character building experience. I imagine, bishop McGunthery is responsible for your stay here? Not that I blame him, I'm simply of curious mind." He let out a lengthy sigh, but kept his expression still and the same throughout the conversation. It almost looked like a familiar trick that Edgar pulled on her, but she did not want to accuse the priest of anything, she was too scared to. "Alright, very well, I will look the other way for a desperate soul in need of help, though I guide you to remain quiet about this, otherwise it is entirely possible of a sick and angry mob to come marching at our holy doors. Sinners are dying out there, God is smiting them." The High Bishop was obviously referring to the black plague.
"Understood, father. I will stay quiet as a mouse." If only she knew the irony of such a statement. Veronica relaxed at this point remaining in the bed roll provided for her.
It was dark and quiet. Within the cellar, Veronica constantly heard rats and mice crawling about, it was certainly an unfortunate situation from a modern perspective. That is when she contracted the same disease that had killed her father, along with millions of other Europeans at the time. She woke up the next morning feeling horribly ill. When the High Bishop came to check up on her during the nighttime, he expressed a frown for once. He was very displeased with Veronica's condition. Just the day before he claimed God was smiting sinners. "Perhaps this is the doing of the Devil himself." He looked over his shoulder then back at Veronica as she laid there on the bed, sick, helpless, and on the verge of death. "Misses Veronica... I must apologize on what I will be bestowing you with as it can easily drive one to commit evil, but, I shall not allow Lucifer to kill you with pestilence and claim an innocent soul." The High Bishop brought his palm up to his mouth. Two fangs surged out from his gums, both devices sharing equal length and sharper than almost any local black smith short sword. He brought his palm up to the two fangs and pierced his palm directly in the center. It provided him with an image of Christ, a nail ripping into the center of Christ's palm.
Drops of blood began to drip into Veronica's mouth. "Drink, Misses Veronica, you will live out your life and even more. But... this life will come with its negatives, my dear."
A storm of steps and a slamming of a thick wooden door is heard. "High Bishop, do not tell me you have cursed this soul!" It was the priest that had originally taken her in, McGunthery.
"Ease yourself, McGunthery, I did what was necessary. Satan had casted his pestilence on her, God would not smite an innocent soul." He paused for a moment, waiting for some sort of reaction. McGunthery only offered silence. "Is it not obvious McGunthery? This is Satan's plague, he is stealing the souls of the innocence. I am... rescuing her from such a fate of eternal damnation." The High Bishop seemed sure of himself, and he was trying his best to convince the loyal Bishop, McGunthery.
"High Bishop, with all due respect, but what you've provided her with, is eternal damnation. God works in mysterious ways, you should not have intervened." McGunthery's words did not sit well with the High Bishop Vampire.
The High Bishop offered up a rather stern and strong tone, "McGunthery, she is being given an opportunity to experience life, a life that the Devil is trying to rob her of. A soul that the Devil is trying to rob God of." McGunthery fell silent, bewildered by the High Bishop's actions and philosophy.
"Very well High Bishop, I have faith in you and I only hope you can raise this one properly..." Yes, there was a lot of responsibility set on the High Bishop, he was tasked with teaching Veronica control, secrecy, and an honourable principle.
The High Bishop on a daily basis provided Veronica with his blood, knowing that she was going to die any day now. Eventually that time had arrived. Veronica slipped from the world of life, only an hour later to return to it. She opened her eyes and had this insatiable urge to feed. However, she was trapped within a coffin. "Hello!? Help me!" She began to bang her fist against the coffin door, attempting to get out or at least alert the others in her vicinity that she needs to be released.
"Veronica. You took longer than expected. How are you feeling?" It was the High Bishop's voice, penetrating the wood oak coffin lid. "I imagine you are feeling quite different right now, an urge?" He waits for Veronica's answer.
Veronica inhaled deeply and tried to relax herself, so that she can answer the High Bishop's questions. "I feel different, I cannot put a finger on it, father. I am hungry." The High Bishop grabbed the lid of the coffin and pulled it off, the nail ripped from the frame. There happened to be an overhanging lantern above the High Bishop, hanging from the ceiling. As the lid was torn from its framework, the light blinded Veronica for a brief moment, her eyes quickly adjusting.
At that point, Veronica began to follow the teachings of the High Bishop. The most important principle he shared was control on feeding, for he vowed to kill her himself if she was to take a life of an innocent. He drilled these principles in her head, and when the time came to it, he over watched her feeding to make sure the one being fed on did not die. After at least thirty similar occurrences, he finally entrusted her to go on her own, at least that is what he wanted her to believe. So, she went out one night to find a soul to feed on.
Veronica walked the dark streets of an English village in search of someone to nurture her. What better place than a tavern? She thought. She stepped through the door and searched around the place, there were many men there, and the only women were the tavern wenches. It was uncomfortable to say the least, and Veronica was dressed in a rather enriching gown.
"Ey' sweetheart! How 'bout you and I go trap 'eselves in a room, 'ey?" The fat bastard with the raspy and gloated voice barked out at Veronica. The sound of his blood pumping was extraordinary fast considering his weight and the amount he has been drinking.
Veronica casted a fake but convincing smile to the obese, perverted old man. "Alright then, get us a room." The situation itself felt very wrong to her, but she needed to feed, and she needed to do so by the High Bishops rules. The fat man checked in a room and Veronica accompanied him there. They stepped into the small room, and immediately the fat man took off his shirt allowing for his gut to spill out. Veronica was close to vomiting, she casted yet another fake smile, but anyone with a right mind can understand that it was fake. The fat man did not care however, he was under the impression that she was going to get paid after her services.
Veronica proceeded to gesture with her right hand for him to turn around. He let out a deep chuckle, imagining something dirty and naughty to occur behind the closed door. That is when she slipped her right arm around his neck and placed him into a choke-hold. The big oaf leaned back, sure Veronica was a vampire, but this person was quite big! She struggled underneath his weight and was hurled along with him against the wooden locked door. As far as anyone knew, they were having a 'fun ' time.
Veronica dug her elbow deep within his neckline; the man's triple chin almost covered the forearm that was tightly wrapped around his neck. The man's head and face began to grow ripe red like a tomato. He began to lose oxygen and slip out of consciousness; she waited a few seconds before the behemoth had plummeted to the floor. Veronica had frowned and bent her knees, her fangs had popped out. She leaned over to his neck and sank her teeth into his jugular, and made sure not to wiggle her mouth around or shred the mans neck, otherwise he would die quickly. The hot crimson, alcohol filled blood began to be ingested by Veronica. The alcohol within his stream was certainly something she did not prefer, but she was not so meticulous about it. At least not now.
After a sufficient amount of blood was leached from the big man. She unrolled a set of medieval bandages, and wrapped up the wound she had inflicted upon him. She then left him there and left the tavern in haste, only to bump into the High Bishop outside who had been over watching her, but from a distance this time to ensure her path of discipline not be altered or broken by temptation or blood lust.
*[/P]*
Approximately two hundred years since her contraction of vampirism, Veronica had lost the High Bishop to a Lycan attack. It was the first time she had ever experienced Lycans and the threat they portrayed to her kind. The High Bishop had died defending Veronica from a group of Lycans all of which three died and one survived but injured by the Master Vampire, the High Bishop. Luckily, for Veronica who was ill equipped and unknowledgeable about Lycanthropy had the High Bishop there to defend her. Her second father had died and it was something she took to heart, devastated by the incident. Having a father figure around for two centuries, only to have him plucked from existence by a pack of de-ranged murderous Lycans. She at that point wanted to taste vengeance, but knowing the Bishop, he would advise against it.
Despite Veronica's assumption of the Bishops advice against tracking the Lycan, she decided to go against it due to the spur of vengeance and anger clouding her mind. She needed to do this and at this point in time she did not hold her life in such high regard absent the Bishop around. So, she began working on a way to track down the Lycan that survived. Tracking the Lycan was no hard task, it was wounded, it left a trail of blood behind. She followed the scent of the blood.
*[P]*
She followed the trail into a vast forest with tall trees, it was still nighttime and Veronica had frequently heard a series of howls be it Lycan or mere wolves. At this point, she got herself into some trouble; she overstepped her boundaries, played right into a trap. The Lycan that killed the Bishop had appeared; it let out a menacing growl as it circled around Veronica. She stayed silent, staring into the eyes of the glowing killer. That is preciesly when the air split as a crossbow bolt hurled through the air, the bolt tip shined under the moonlight. It was a silver tip, and it dug itself straight into the Lycan's torso.
"Lady, what the hell are you doing here!? Do you know how dangerous those things are?" The man spoke out from the shrubbery just over to her left. "Shouldn't be out here alone with wolves running about."
"I know that was no ordinary wolf. It killed my father..." Veronica replied to the man, in a tone of grief. He stepped out of concealment and approached Veronica unaware of her status or race for that matter.
"They're werewolves lady, half man, half wolf. You're damn lucky I came when I did, these suckers have a nasty allergy to silver. Puts them down, if you get them in a right spot." The man explained.
"Who're you exactly?" Veronica questioned him, unsettled as to how he has so much information about the Lycanthropes.
"Thought it was obvious. I'm a hunter of the supernatural, werewolves and demons are the things I go after." He loaded in another bolt into his crossbow.
"Demons? There are demons?" Veronica could not believe of how much supernatural knowledge she was being provided with in a mere day.
"Yeah, you know, Demon Blood Suckers, or some of the other hunters like to identify them as vampires. I just call them blood thirsty demons." Veronica tensed up a bit, he had quite the hatred or misconception painted out in his mind.
"And.. how does a hunter take a demon down?" She asked to know what methods of attack she needed to avoid.
"Listen, lady, we need to go, these bastards don't usually travel alone, they have a pack." He grabbed a hold of her shoulder and guided her out of the forest.
Veronica however, was bent on finding out the methods a hunter may use to kill vampires. "Demons, how do you kill them?"
"We use a herb called verveine, it's practically toxic to them. Coat the stuff on the tips of arrows or blades and it brings them down pretty easily. Or you can lure one into the sunlight. The beams of the lord will bring the sucker down, ghastly demonic things..." Veronica twitched, she wanted to prove him wrong, but did not dare to reveal her identity to the hunter. It bothered her that she was being called a demon, she has worshiped the lord since both births. "Though, some of the bastards try building up immunity to it by digesting or injecting verveine on a daily basis but in small amounts. From experience though, never worked on the demons favour, takes a lot of time, and because they take it, they're practically vulnerable all the time." The hunter slung the cross bow over his back and furrowed his brows, "Why do you care so much about the demons anyways? You just survived a werewolf."
It was true, Veronica had show quite a lot of interest in the man's tales of 'demons' making her a tad suspicious. "Uhh, I just wanted to know- in case I ever have a run in with one of them."
The hunter nodded slowly, he was a bit skeptical of the woman but he did not really delve deep into an investigation nor want to due to the lycan activity in the forest, "Right, well..." He gestured towards the city, trying to get her away from the forest. "You better go, and don't bother telling people about it, they'll think you're crazy." With that conclusion, Veronica departed from the edges of the forest. She was not expecting such a night, she sought vengeance, but when that silver bolt killed the lycan, it felt no different, it provided no gratification what so ever. After that, she stayed with the principles she was taught by the High Bishop, and remained a firm believer of God, and his son, Jesus Christ.
*[/P]*
It is 2015, she is now in LA. Her kind, the lycans kind, is all public knowledge now. However, her principles, discipline, and lone wolf behaviour has kept her alive for this long, and she will continue to look after her self-preservation and follow her principles that are dear and law to her.
Give an example of Feeding RP [10 Lines min]:
** The hospice was large and reeked of death, however it was a much simpler way of nurturing herself. Veronica had managed to swipe a nurses uniform (A proper one, not some skanky one) from the change room. She slipped herself into the hospice area and began the search for patients who were vegetables, unconscious, or was nearing death. Considering it was the hospice branch of the hospital, everyone there was at that stage. **
** Veronica took a peak at the file posted at room 51H-B. Matthew McConison, brain tumour, stage four cancer. Veronica emitted a pitiful sigh. She set the file back into its respective holder and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind herself and locking it. She carefully approached the sick man, who was currently hooked up to a breathing apparatus.**
**Veronica stood at the side of the bed and dug into her shirt, pulling out an ancient looking cross from the period she was born in. "Almighty God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has given you the new birth of water and the Spirit and has forgiven you of all your sins, strengthen you with His grace to life everlasting. Amen." She provided the man with part of a liturgy and extended her right index finger, placing a touch upon his forehead. She dragged it down and then brought it up dragging it horizontally just above the center, crossing the cancer patient.**
** It was time to get to the nitty gritty. "Bless I, Oh Lord, and these thy gifts, which I am about to receive, from thy bounty, through Christ, Our Lord. Amen." Veronica finished her prayer before the meal and proceeded to conceal the cross beneath her shirt, as if to hide God's view of her horrific act, something she at times was ashamed of, but it was for her survival. Two fangs had popped up, and her breathing became slightly heavier as the need for blood settles in. The woman's eyes transition from a pure European blue to a vicious demonic crimson red. **
** The old man had simply laid there, unable to move, hooked up to a machine, ready to die within days, or weeks.**
** Veronica leaned downwards and angled the old mans head off to the side in the most gentle manner she can do, as if to not disturb him. Despite her attempts of being gentle, he was about to have a set of fangs be buried within his neck.**
** The two tips of the fangs slipped into the man's neck. The rush of warm blood making immediate contact with her teeth. She began to feed on the man, nurturing herself. As she did this, she kept a close eye on the heart-rate monitor to make sure she had no heavy impact on him. So far, it was a stable pulse, which was good.**
** The man began to flicker his eyelids up and down, barely turning his head to the side to take a look at the top of Veronica's head. He was already weak and could not move, unable to really react to this invasion. Veronica knew exactly how long she had to keep her teeth inside of him to maximize nurturing efficiency and keep the patient alive.**
** It was just a few more moments, she counted the time in her head to make sure it was no longer, or shorter. She carefully released the grip she had on him with her fangs, allowing them to fall back into place of concealment, producing a minor snapping noise. The red colour of the eyes begins to whirl into her pupil, vanishing entirely. The blue European eye colour came back. She wiped her mouth with her wrist and quickly looked around for a bandage. Upon finding one she set it onto the mans neck wound. She bowed her head in a respectful manner and stepped outside of the room. "Thank you Matthew, may you have a wonderful after-life in God's Palace."
Give an example of Combat RP [15 lines min]:
** "Lord God, your own Son was delivered into the hands of the wicked, yet he prayed for his persecutors and overcame hatred with the blood of the cross. Relive the sufferings of the innocent victims of war, grant them peace of mind, healing of body, and a renewed faith in your protection and care. Grant this through Christ our Lord. Amen." Veronica stood still in front of the turning Lycan. **
** "Fuck you and your God!" The Lycan spoke immediately after in shifted into its naturalistic form. "I will rip you limb from limb, blood whore!" The tall lycan leaned down and began to run towards Veronica on all fours. **
** Veronica frowned and found much distaste in the Lycan's heresy, however it was not that trait that drove her to fight, it was simply self-defense. Veronica sunk a hand into her right pocket and withdrew an old silver blade she acquired at the church where both McGunthery and the High Bishop had worked. A relic in her eyes, maintained when needed. It was sharp as ever. **
** The Lycan reached a distance to where it was about to collide into her and tackle Veronica to the ground. **
** As the Lycan neared a leaping position, the vampire dashed off to the side, allowing the brick wall to deal with the Lycan's head.**
** The Lycan was hoping to pummel Veronica into the wall, however she was a bit too quick for the lesser-experienced Lycan. The wolf slammed its body through the weak brick wall. Dust and debris flew all around in a chaotic manner. **
** Veronica pursued her opportunity to counter-attack the werewolf, however she had no aim to kill him. She dashed at him from behind and attempted to dig the silver blade into the wolfs left back leg. **
** The Lycan was slightly disorientated by the force exhibited onto his head, so the dash from the rear came as a surprise. He felt a massive pain in his left leg, letting out a deafening howl. The Lycan dropped to his knees, swiping from his left to his back with his long vicious claws. **
** The claw shredded through Veronica's coat and even drew some blood. She pulled back away from the Lycan and took her blade with her. She made no attempt to recover and fight, she attempted a retreat through the doorway behind her.**
** The Lycan was hurt and there was no way it would be able to catch up to her with a damaged leg. The Lycan turned into a man shortly after, wheezing in pain from the leg wound.**
**Veronica did as planned, retreated from the building block in case any more werewolves had showed up.**
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OOC Notes:
Thanks for going through my application, I certainly hope it did not bore anyone as it did include a lot of detail, that certainly can be argued both needles or useful to the back-story development of the character. I left out the rank / power of Veronica, but to those that may not realize, it would be Master given her age is 683, and the High Bishop himself was a Master. Now while I understand a Master holds a lot of responsibility of not to power game and upset the player base of the server, I went with a very pacifist mindset for the character, a character which can help in developing many more characters due to her preference and belief in leaving the victim she fed on alive. If there any questions, I'd much rather prefer steam messages or PM's.
