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New link in the top of page "IRC Chat". |
| Register | Login | |||||
|
Main
| Memberlist
| Active users
| Calendar
| Last Posts
| IRC Chat
| Online users Ranks | FAQ | XPW | Stats | Color Chart | Photo album |
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| 0 users currently in Sim-Battle Arena. |
| User | Post |
| Shroud Posts: 2/3 |
OOC: Tseng, I'd like to face you... again is it? Let me just sort out some kind of character and post. |
| Vel Belmont Posts: 7/42 |
OOC: Your rules are GAY!
~Ortho Battle ~Same rules apply towards Xion's battle IC: Setting: Venice, a street hooking towards a Vatican Church, a crowd of people are here gathering around the statue of Mary. Hour: Midnight Temperature: 65 degrees (cool) Condition: Placid "The Moon, she hangs like a cruel portrait, soft winds whisper the bidding of trees as this tragedy starts with a shattered glass heart and the Midnightmare trampling of dreams. But on, no tears please, fear and pain may accompany Death but it is desire that shepherds it's certainty as we shall see..." The earth had a shadow of itself passing a dim light from the moon. A crumpled face of its texture layed swamped in hand with the pale glow by the picking of the rue. Trust can not be found, conspiracy layed corrupt and all that was good on this dead planet has faded into nothing. A tear streak on the statue of Mary was the only ideal part of town from which people came to gather with hope. Though nothing more then a vatican church to seal the fate, the atmosphere around them grew dank and unsuited. A putrid smoke arose from the shattering of the statue. As people screamed a clawed hand gripped one victim by the head, broke the neck in a most appetizing way, blood being splashed all around as the body was waved in the air and then throw, while the head was used as a cup to drink from the blood that dripped. Fingers red, the body was thrown down, the head rolling towards the base of the concrete edge. A man with dark black flowing hair, had broken free of the statue, how he got there...well, he was known for his unique surprises. As that, he stepped forth, the crowd who were around the statue had started to spread far away from this dark stranger. He wore a dark black pleather skirt, adorned with multiple ruins from the past. He wore no shirt, his body was covered in whip scars and body was pale as the moon, lightly painted of red with the last victim he fed. As he stepped down from his stone case, he found a child, his eyes burned with delight as the cold claw gripped him by the neck. Struggling to get free, the child choked and caughed, he could not have been more then 7 years old and slowly his life was fading away in this man's grip. Witha quick thrust of his two fingers from his bloody left hand, his fingers had ripped open the child's chest cavity, broken the rib cage and removed the small unbeating heart. The mother screamed in pain for her child that she just lost, and now a bloody mess painted on the ground, a canvas of concrete and a bloody painting. "Dunque è qui che mi sono risvegliato, sostiene nel mio vecchio abito. Il dolore, ed il pozzo di febbre la destina. L'arco giù prima che me o affronta tutta la scomparsa. Io, Vel Belmont, regna adesso. " He spoke with harshness in his tone. But it came understood, that Vel Belmont was back for the hunt. |
