[color=#a00000][size=23pt]Blood and Magick II: The Forgotten

Twenty years have passed since the last clash between Heaven and Hell. All has been quiet on the surface…

However, the surface merely hides what lies beneath. And beneath an ancient evil is stirring…

Life for mortals has changed slightly. More are religious in some way, and some were driven completely insane by the revelation of two decades ago. All but a few hope and pray that they will never have to experience… whatever it was again.

Prayers aren’t always answered.

For the Fallen Souls Coven, life is very different. Mateo, son of Sorcha and Marduk, has proven that he has neither his mother’s morals nor his father’s sophistication. Marduk, initially amused by his son’s reckless and immoral behavior, has lost patience with Mateo’s impertinence. Following the defeat of Satan’s general, the Archangel Michael all but disappeared, returning Sorcha to her former state with the exception of advanced powers. Jalken and Illuminia drift in and out of the picture, as does Malik, more of an associate than an actual member of the coven.

Danger looms ever nearer to the coven…

An unknown assailant or assailants has taken to the streets; deaths have been reported, some brutal, some mysterious. All have one thing in common: the bodies have been drained of blood.

Strange behavior has been reported by some of those who were touched by the demon Legion during the last battle… Others who may or may not have even been around at the time report visions… Word on the street says that there are strangers in town who are there one moment, plain as day, then disappear into thin air… Symbols are appearing in trees, rocks, on buildings, everywhere.

Something is coming…

Refer to the original RPG with any questions; PM me if it doesn't help.

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Species:
Gifts/powers:
Physical Description:
Personality:
Origin/History:
Other:


Name: Sorcha
Age: c. 1600 years old
Gender: female
Species: vampire-witch
Gifts/powers: she has the limitations and strengths of a vampire of her age (sunlight is harmful but won't destroy her, she doesn't have to drink blood as often, strong telekinetic powers, extreme physical strength, skin like white marble, ability to fly, ect.), but can also communicate with spirits and manipulate elements (earth, air, fire, water) and can, at will, transform into a winged, angel-like version of herself with huge red and black wings, though any use of her witch powers can drain her, but no where near as much as it once did. She can join with the spirit of the archangel Michael, but rarely does anymore; it causes her pain for reasons that she refuses to discuss with anyone, including her husband.
Physical Description: clicky for piccy Like so, but with black streaked with blood red. She used to, and occasionally still does, wear a short black leather skirt, black corset with red inset, and knee-high boots, but most of the time is dressed in a simple, sleeveless black satin gown.
Personality: Party goddess. She loves to have a good time, and sometimes has difficulty "buckling down" when things get serious. Always the one to have some quirky remark, not many can take her on in an argument or a battle of wits. When she does get serious, then you know things are getting pretty bad, and someone's about to get their ass kicked. A great friend, trustworthy confident, and powerful ally, you definitely want to be on her good side.
Lately, however, she has been stressed and a much different person than usual. Tensions in her family, especially between her husband and her son, have made Sorcha into a mere shadow of her formal self. She spends what energy she has training young witches and trying to heal the rift in her household.
Origin/History: : Born in Ireland, Sorcha was a Druidic high priestess who traveled Gaul during the early days of the Holy Roman Empire. She was called to a gathering to help with a problem stemming from negative energy; during the ritual, the energy attacked her and nearly killed her when she was saved by the merging of a divine spirit with her own. She didn’t know what spirit it was, but she has a feeling that it was an important one, since afterwards she practically became God’s general on earth. She later found the spirit to be the archangel Michael. Not long after her transformation, she fell in love, but the man she fell in love with was destined to die. God promised that would be someone for her, and that he would come in time; that promise was fulfilled with her union with Koger, human form of the ancient god Marduk, who has since regained his former strength.
Other: not yet

Sorcha

"OK, you're getting the hang of it... Try to move with the flame in your mind rather than just forcing your will upon it..." I suggested to one of my young students. She was a human with the rare gift of pyrokinesis, and her parents wished for me to train her to better control her power. Too many close encounters with the fire department, I supposed; they didn't strike me as the understanding type and I knew that they thought of me as a freak. Then again, I wasn't human... but they didn't need to know that.

The flame flickered and flared back to life, forming a star rather than the typical teardrop shape. The girl gasped, and I gave her a small hug.

"See, you can do it! That's enough for today, I'll see you tomorrow, Jackie." I ushered her to the front door to where her parents waited. As they left, I closed the door behind them and sighed; it had been too long since I last had a vacation. Try over a century. A crash from somewhere in the house snapped me back to the present. "Mateo!" I yelled, not really expecting my son to pay any mind.

"What on earth... What have I told you?" I snapped when I reached his bedroom doorway. Inside were he and some of his... friends. Several girls in various states of being scantily clad were sprawled around the room along with two other boys. Not my idea of a wholesome gathering. The remains of a table were gently smoldering in a corner.

"No storms in the house?"

"And?"

"No destroying the furniture?"

"And?"

"No burning things?"

"...And...?

"Uhm..."

"No whores in my house!" I spat, eyes flashing. "If you insist on bringing people in here, fine, but only if they're properly dressed!" Mateo rolled his eyes. "Pick up that table, too."

He moved, slowly, and began to collect the bits of wood when I gave the flame a second life. His hair singed and he jumped in surprise. "Now, the rest of you, OUT! NOW!" I roared, fuming.

"We will talk about this later," I growled at Mateo before closing the door and storming down the hallway, herding the trash out of my home.



*drum roll* Introducing... kind of...

Name: Melanthe
Age: unknown
Gender: Female
Species: Vampire
Gifts/powers: She's a fucking vampire, so guess.
Physical Description: Five foot seven with bleached-looking flawless white skin that most older vamps have, shoulder-length blood red hair, piercing ice blue eyes. She wears a black leather halter-style top that covers very little and tight black leather pants.
Personality: Cunning, deceitful, manipulating... more to come, mwahahaha!
Origin/History: unknown, suckaz!
Other: *evil plotting kind of grin*

Melanthe

The taste of fresh blood on my lips sent ripples of pleasure through my body. My victim's dying breath echoed in my ears...

Ah, sweet death! Her body lie on the filthy pavement, broken and forgotten, like the wretch that she had been. Probably a runaway; this forsaken city was full of them. The wold was full of them, for that matter, damned place that it was. I nudged the corpse with my foot and her head turned, eyes closed forever in eternal sleep. Such pretty blonde hair... She could have been beautiful, if only the layers of grime that covered her were washed away...

The strong had conquered the weak. That's how it was, always has been, and always would be. Gentle grace had no place in a world of savage beauty, just as she had no place in my world.

The Dark Destroyer. I smiled to myself, recalling my name in the old world. Yes, the Dark Destroyer had returned after centuries of obscurity. What would they call me this time?

They would call me Mistress.

*****

I stood atop a high-rise, right on the edge, looking over the city and it's multitude of lights. Even in the midnight hour, the streets were alive...

How long until this was mine? The Guardian no longer held sway, at least not nearly as much as two decades ago. Taint had begun to seep in, and the Guardian had not returned... something was happening to prevent it. If that situation, whatever it was, could be... pushed a little... I smiled darkly to myself. Perfect... it would be perfect...

The city, with it's lights and people, would be a nice first step...

But I really wanted it all.

It would be a rather lonesome undertaking to do it alone... surely I could find someone worth at Inferno.

Then again, if I wasn't careful, he would find me. Nothing was too low for him to sink to, the insufferable worm. Yet, he remained so self-riteous... I didn't understand him, nor did I want to. I wouldn't sink that low. A bad taste welled up in my mouth and I spat on the ledge in disgust.

He would just have to die. I reminded myself that I and my sisters had been trying to kill him for millennia... No matter. He couldn't get lucky every time.



Name: Zarahlinda
Age: at least 3000 years old
Gender: female
Species: vampire
Gifts/powers: In addition to the "traditional" vampiric powers, she is able to commune psychically with those who have dedicated themselves to her, call leopards (and wereleopards) to her aid, and other powers that will be disclosed later...
Physical Description: http://www.inhumandolls.com/Disegni/kirsten.jpg (Obviously not wearing that outfit, though...) Normally wears a conservative floor-length black gown, like so
Personality: Zarahlinda is one of the oldest vampires in the world, and her mere presence carries the weight of that age. She is extremely powerful, but doesn't flaunt it; under normal circumstances, she's calm, collected, introspective, and very wise. She would rather not become involved in conflict if it can be avoided, unless the cost is too high for her or her people. She rules like a matron rather than a dictator, and her people fear her but not to the point that the fear is what keeps them loyal.
Origin/History: Except for those very few who are close to her, no one knows much about her. She comes from somewhere near the Middle East and is several thousand years old; most guess she was in her mid-twenties when she died. Some know that she was married and had children, but nothing more specific is public knowledge.
Other:

(I will post for Zarah later)