- God modding will not be permitted in any way, shape or form -

- Keep me and my characters outside of OOC drama. It will not be tolerated 

 - No stealing my characters. Granted, sometimes there will be similarities but outright theft will not be tolerated -

- Yes, I did created the species known as Jabberwockies. I had not approved anyone else to create one as of yet, but if you wish to have your own, please ask -

- Do not rape, murder, emotionally or physically scar my characters without OOC permission -

- Mature themes occur, you have been warned -

- I am open to all styles of writing and to any character. Just ask if you want to write! -




The Sinner


The Experiment

The Last One


The Apocalypse

The Sentinel


The Soothsayer

The Spirit


The Little Witch

The Dragon Lady


The Wild Beast

The Sprite


The Djinni

The Martyr


The Keeper

The Fae


The Bone Moth




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Alexandra Versailles


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Threads closed for Cassius and Europa. Selectively choosing threads for Iaophae.

Shai has been recently opened.

Threads for Dmitri and Taj are preferred.




Apollonius Grimm + Europa (X)

Anzu + Europa

Alec + Romus (X)

Malory Grace + Arch

Rosemarie + Dmitri (X)

Kujo + Cthylla (X)

Omega + Europa (X)

Roman + Cassius (X)

Azazel + Europa (X)

Taylor Connor + Kaia (X)

Rodrigo Rose + Europa (X)

Malphas + Iaophae (X)

Kei + Sirius

Cosima Brightly + West (X)

Anqttite + Koumai (X)

Nurse Moon + Kaia (X)

Lars + Cthylla (X)

Ember Narvok + Kaia (X)

Judar + Cthylla (X)

Sailor Emerson + Arch (X)

Malachi + Arch

Willow Grace + Dmitri (X)

Izzy + Sehale

Anzu + Sehale

Brigg + Donncha (X)

Levi + Taj




+ Awaiting Starters +

Josh Washington + Koumai




+ Starters  In Progress +





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Mouse + Arch

Rosa + Romus

Kimberly + Kaia

Royal + Iaophae

Serenity + Taj

Nathan + Sirius

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Ophelia + Kaia

Judge Claude Frollo + ?



((NOTE: Profile is not finished, links to character information is to be added as soon as possible))

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Writer's Writing Style (OOC)

Paragraph, Multi-Para

Writer's Favored Genres (OOC)

Fantasy, Violence, Realistic, Rated R, 18+, Action, Adventure

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  • ( Actually, the Gypsy character would be more preferrable, of course. Which one on the list is she? If it was to be that character, the plot would almost certainly involve Frollo stalking her with the intention of either executing her (he's very prejudiced) or making her his own, if you get my meaning. Sorry, that is assuming that your Gypsy character is a woman? Correct me if I'm mistaken.)

  • Izzy felt something tug on her defenses around her cabin and her forehead furrowed as she heard a loud crash upstairs. She strengthened her sheild and went up the steps. When she saw the young girl she raised an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. One look and she knew exactly what this girl was. "Jesus christ, I thought I stopped getting visitors from other fae centuries ago." She walks over and helps pull the girl up by her arm and closes the window she came in from. "Do I want to know why you've come crashing in through my window?"

  • He looks over each one carefully, his forehead furrowed in thought. "All of these are amazing but I think I'm going to go with your celtic design." He nods. "You have an amazing skill man... I'm gonna have to come to you for this stuff more often."

  • Silence persisted to the assumption tossed out of his mouth, where he could either expect sarcasm or to get popped one for it depending on how far from home he’d hit. He was ready for either. Perhaps not the unsettling reply that came void of either reaction. Not a word came on it afterward. Left to his own devices on how to proceed, curiosity was about as lethal as he wanted to make it.

     “Quiet down,” He muttered to the sound of her scaling down the steps again, less bite to his words with the task in front of him. When the screen was handed over, he listened absently as he worked to force the latches free. “You probably won’t meet anybody that knows more about it, kid.” He replied. So maybe it wasn’t a wholehearted truth. Still, he’d gotten into enough hell growing up. They would spend the rest of the night on those stairs if he got too far into it.

     “You’re young, remember? You’ve got time.” Kei muttered amusingly, and just like that with a final grunt, the window’s lock flipped up the remainder of it to come free. With a side glance laced with victory, he pushed the window open.

    Stepping through the open frame, his feet landed in what was a living room space. The scene was seemingly given the once over already, the tents with numeric values of where the ‘evidence’ still lingering as if the scene had not yet been turned over or relieved. The scent of old blood and chemicals lingered yet in the apartment, which itself sat in a state of distress. The counters were covered in dishes and plates, magazines and newspapers on the coffee table that were a week or so old, showcasing the lifestyle of the occupant. Cabinets were opened from their contents being rifled through, yet he paid no attention and kept walking. From the living room, a patch of dark crimson was visible, matted into the carpets where inevitably someone once rested.

    “Is it everything you ever hoped for?” He asked dryly. All the while, he walked across the carpet to where a small lamp sat in the corner, flicking it on.

  • ( Yes. I've already had a look, I'm pretty fond of "The Little Witch". Should be an interesting interaction. Is it all right with you if this story took place in a less modern time setting? )

  • The young man follows her eyes with his; the gold within them flickering through the shadows like tiny candle-lights.  Without saying anything, he nods with her, the wind sweeping his messy bangs away from his lightly freckled forehead.   Saturn form.  The words meant very little to him- he's never heard of anything like it.  The mention has him turning his face towards the sky, although it's plenty hidden behind the tree's leafy canopies.  Like the planet? He wonders, brows furrowing, but remains silent.

    At least until she calls him a hoo-man for the second time.  He laughs, a short lived but rich sound all the same.  She wasn't totally wrong, he used to be human.  No, you just used to think you were.  A voice- his consciece, maybe- reminds him. "Nik is probably right.  Humans don't do very well with things they can't explain, or haven't seen before.  Some of them go so far as looking right at you and not seeing you at all." moonlight spills through the leafy ceiling to wash over his golden face, but even that can't make him seem pale.

    "Aye, some can.  Some humans can call down storms from the very heavens, and weave the sea into a weapon.  But I'm no human." Again and again his Irish lilt sneaks up on him despite the effort he's putting into reigning it back.  Deft, quick hands lash out to pluck one of the burrs from her hair, pulling it back to inspect it.  But he merely flicks it away, then drops from the branch as if to follow it- landing silently, and walking three steps forward. 

    What cannot be seen is still there... he stops, looking up from the dew spattered tops of his boots to look around the quiet woods.  He halfs expects Them to come riding from between the trees, but of course they don't.  It was a rare thing to find them in America.  Rare.. but not impossible.  Far from impossible. 

    Then abruptly he turns to face the Beast-turned-girl, tucking a thumb from each hand into his front belt-loops. "Jack a bottle, like.  I stole it.  Ya know? The five finger discount? Ah, nevermind." He waves off her half inquiry about the hospital, eyes scanning the trees again.  And then darting to stick to the female with lightning speed.  He wasn't expecting a formal introduction.  It looks like he wants to cringe- but he can't, his body is becoming an autonomous thing.  He stands straighter, he raises his head- squaring his broad shoulders. 

    He doesn't smile. "I am Cu Benn Diadh mac Lugh Lonnansclech of the Tuath Dé," he doesn't have to pause for breath, but he does it anyway. "Fear Doirche in Craig Leith." once it's over, he turns his head away to hide his snarl; "but that's not my fucken' name.  My name is Anzu.." it's spoken in little more than a grumble, but he feels like the Europa Justine, Daughter of Chief Dehari and Amaiyo, the second coming of Nikos-- wait. 

    "Did you say Nikos?"

  • Well adjusted to life in New York, Taylor is not fazed by the driver of a car's hot temper. He side-eyes his new male companion with a hidden smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. That amused him. Taylor is even feeling brave enough to mumble a cheeky retort of his own, "Don't sell yourself so short," only, it's quiet enough to be drowned out the noise of the city. There's a high chance his comment goes unnoticed, and if it does, he is unbothered by the fact.

    Hybrid. He dwells on the thought and makes it known by shooting his gaze down and to the left. Another frown appears on his face, a deep and troubled one. For as long as he can remember, albeit that's not very long at all, Taylor's always felt as though he didn't know who he is or where he belonged. At one point, he thought he almost figured it out. But, life is cruel and he found himself back at square one. Except for this time he was left with a lavish mansion and werewolves on his back, as opposed to the last time that left him in hospital and homeless. 

    "It is complicated." It's not really. Taylor is just a man of few words, and explaining takes a lot of effort. With a single pointed glance towards Kaia, Taylor has to wonder if it's even worth spilling out his history to him. The half-breed likes to keep his cards close to his chest as he finds it's more comfortable to be in his own head than in the outside world. People, and life, in general, exhaust him even on a good day. He sighs loudly as his hands sink into the front pockets of his jeans. They stop when his thumbs are resting just on the outside of them, "I'm a vampire, but I wasn't supposed to be like this. They were trying to kill me." 

    Blue eyes gazed up at the interrupting neon lights overhead. Taylor squints, finding the brightness and particular colour offensive to the eyes. It's enough to stop his story and shrug his shoulders in dismissal, "I'll tell you inside if you really want to know." And he promises that. Kaia's own personal brand of demons stares Taylor right in the face in the form of puncture wounds at the crook of his elbows. He says nothing about them.

    As they enter the hotel, Taylor is painstakingly aware of his shirtlessness and how obscene this must look. He keeps his head bowed the entire time to conceal the all too obvious red tint soaring through his cheeks, courtesy of his bloodstream. One good benefit of being more vampire than a human would be the lack of a pulse - he wouldn't ever have to worry about blushing so often. Eventually, they arrive in the room and Taylor is the first to enter. He takes a minute to observe his surroundings to get a good feel for Kaia. Alas, a hotel room gives away much less evidence than a personal bedroom. Shuffling his feet, he makes awkward eye contact between Kaia and across the room, "Uh, shower?" He asks.

  • He nods, impressed with a raised eyebrow. "You know your shit. I was hoping to get a bear paw on my shoulder. I like native designs but I'm hesitant since I myself am not native." His face kind of crinkles a bit. "I guess technically I'm more celtic than anything else. I wanted to see what you could draw up in your style, something unique."

  • The phone was scrambled towards; if not to stop it’s noise, than to stop it’s destruction at the hands- or paws, of the Jabberwocky. The alarm was switched off, and once more he checked the time to see if it was real. It sure as hell didn’t feel like it. With every night he swore he woke up more tired than the one before. It couldn’t have been the case. He was still up and moving, wasn’t he?

    When she came out, the smell of coffee filled the kitchen as the small coffee pot was done brewing, bound to fill the pot in the next few minutes or so. “You bet. It’s why Dahlia stopped over. Not sure what’s all in there, or if it’ll fit, but try and see.” At that, the bag left his fingertips as she snatched it off and ran. He gave a bit of a chuckle, and back to breakfast his focus went. By the time he heard footsteps again, there were six or seven pancakes set on a plate near the stove, the remainder of the batter being poured into the pan.

    When Europa hollered, his eyes were finally cast up. The moment they had, his eyes snapped open, and were seemingly looking for anywhere else to land but where his eyes were drawn. A smile slowly spread across his face, one-part amusement, the other being his own bashfulness as he searched for words. “That’s… ah… not how you wear that.” He murmured. The best he could do given the circumstances. The spatula he held prior was set down as he wandered around to the other side of the counter, brushing a hand through his hair once. “Here… turn around.” He spoke only after a sigh of a breath. Was he doing this? Yeah, looked like it. Waiting for her to do so, he came to stand behind her. He tugged at the back of the straps to take off the ‘makeshift necklace’.

    He was… more or less doing the opposite of what any older male figure in his life had ever told him. The concern over the matter was lacking on his face as he tipped his eyes more or less towards the ceiling at the other side of the room. “Pull your shirt up just around your neck. And don’t turn around.” Was he pleading? Ordering? The answer was yes. The bra was held out in front of her, straps held open with his fingertips. “Arms in.” He instructed, a wayward glance going to the clock, a Red Hot Chili Peppers poster he had hanging on one wall. He caught glance of a burr hiding in her hair, brow furrowing.

    Once she had done so, he took the straps and tugged them back. “Now you just…” Nikolas took one look at the clasps that held the thing together and paused to blink. What the fuck..? He mouthed to himself silently. His fingers fumbled for more than a few seconds before it finally latched. “There.”

    Meanwhile, in the pan on the stove, his last pancake was burning.



  • Roman clasps a friendly hand onto Cassius' shoulder and firmly squeezes it. These moments of genuine concern and a desire to lend a helping hand are very rarely expressed in Roman's life. Anybody who halfway knows anything about the cambion is sure to never take these instances for granted. He smiles at Cassius, feeling uncharacteristically fond of the man he'd just met. Maybe it's the environment - the zoo is very public and commonly populated by humans, making it neutral territory for the supernatural alike. The weather is also nice and that could be a major playing factor in Roman's choice to be kind today.

    "Once you learn to trust yourself like your very best friend, you come to put it in others." He says as he slowly removed his hand from the man's shoulder. With a nonchalant shrug, Roman's hands disappear into the pockets of his jacket and he swings his legs and moves to another viewing area of the penguins. "At least, that's how it was for me," he adds, "not that it means much. There's only one person in this world I trust with my life. But, maybe that's all I'll ever need."

    With one hand, Roman knocks on the glass separating him and the water of the enclosure. Then, he peers back at Cassius, "In my case, it's all animals. My guess is they pick up anything that's crawled out of Hell's asshole, or in my case, demon sperm. It's like how they can sense drastic changes in the weather, you know? They're very sensitive." He knocks on the glass again and screws his face up at a penguin zooming by, "I can't stand animals, but I deal with it because my fiance fancies every exotic pet you can dream of." Odd, Roman really does look like an animal lover. 

    The cambion turns his attention back to his new not-so friend, "You need a hand and I'm willing to help. All you have to do is ask me to get whatever you need and consider it done." He carries with him a calming confidence that often makes it difficult for others to distrust him. On the other hand, his erratic and forever-moving aura is like chaos on fire making him almost appear like a walking contradiction. Roman cocks his head sharply, "On the condition that you will do something for me." That's.. not good. 

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Sirius Versailles (The Muses) posted a blog post
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Sirius Versailles (The Muses) left a comment for Malory Grace
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Sirius Versailles (The Muses) left a comment for Taylor Connor
"His balls were fine. Good to know. Such an awkward thing Taylor was, such a drastic contrast to Kaia’s mindless, shameless ways. He had to resist taunting or playing with the vampire anymore than he already had. Lower class, street Brits like the Vo…"
Mar 11
Sirius Versailles (The Muses) left a comment for Taylor Connor
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Sirius Versailles (The Muses) left a comment for Milo Dai
"The lights seemed to blare above him, like the stairway to heaven. The crowds raucous cheering filled his ears as well as the declarations for an encore. The stadium was packed with people, desperate blonde girls in the front pushing against the met…"
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