Blood & Magic: Reedland
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Narianna on 21-02-2012, 07:15:42</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>21-02-2012, 07:15:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Blood &amp; Magic: Interest and Recruitment (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132044.msg5866553#msg5866553)<br>Blood &amp; Magic: OOC (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132611.msg5897417#msg5897417)<br>Blood &amp; Magic: Character Thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897461#msg5897461)<br>Blood &amp; Magic: Murphy's Tavern (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132621.msg5897645#msg5897645)<br>Blood &amp; Magic: Gas Station (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132620.msg5897613#msg5897613)<br><br><div align="center"><span class="bbc_u"><strong><span style="font-family: Impact;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 36pt;" class="bbc_size">Blood &amp; Magic</span></span></strong></span></div><br>Off of I-70, there are two particular roads, County Road 912 and County Road 923. Both of these roads lead back to a little town called Reedland. Reedland is a town of approximately 1,000 people. It was settled in the 1930’s by a group of Dustbowl settlers, headed by Carl Reed and his family. The pioneers were mostly English and Irish immigrants. They named the road on which they built their homes, Last Chance Road because most of the settlers had been dying of dehydration before they found what is now named Reeds Pond.<br><div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/Highway.jpg)</div>The small town remained small but yet grew throughout its years, as the coal mine developed down the road. There are only two stop lights in the whole town. County Roads 912 and 923 converge at the first 3-way stop light and that road hits Lower Last Chance Rd at the second 3-way light. At the convergence stands Murphy’s Tavern and Hotel in all its glory. If you want fancy, fine dining in this town, that’s the place you’d go.<br><br>Past Murphy’s Tavern and Hotel, on the left is the local post office and to the right is Carl’s Jr, the only chain to have made it to this town. This hopping fast food joint is where all the miners and local shop owners grab their breakfast before heading into work. Past that on the right is the pawn shop and to the left is a beauty salon. The technology inside the beauty salon isn’t too advanced but women still flock here like it is their heavenly escape from purgatory. Further down on the right is the pharmacy and to the left is the local grocery store. Past that on the left is the local Ma and Pa restaurant that has survived in more of a diner style. And to the right is the barber; the men’s escape from the women. Next on the right is the general store. What you can’t find at the pharmacy and grocery stores, you can generally find here. It also has a fairly large crafts section in the back. Most clothes aren’t bought in town, the townspeople opting to drive a good fifty miles for the closest city department store. Seamstresses make quite a good living in this town. <br><br>Opposite of the general store is the police station. There is a Sheriff and a total of two deputies on staff. Inside all you’ll find is an office and a couple holding cells. No trials are held in town as there is no court room. All prisoners are taken by Emery County Policemen to Emery’s town to await trial there. Attached to the police station, as a separate wing, is a volunteer fire station. There aren’t any actual paid firefighters. If there’s a fire, the deputy will call from a list of volunteers to come in and man the old worn out fire truck.<br><br>Reedland’s water runs on spring water from a local manmade reservoir which channels the water directly to the various homes. Their power lines run over from Salina. They also have septic tanks. Every few months the waste management facility will come and cart away the waste from the septic tanks. The waste management facility is located about two miles down a road that branches off of County Road 923.<br><br>Down that same road approximately three miles is the coal mine. This is where most of the town’s men and a few women spend their days working. There’s a rail station located here. When first turning down this road, one can find the auto repair shop on their left and the machinist and welder on their right. The auto repair shop is most likely the most sophisticated building in town. All industrial repairs, as well as local repairs, are done here.<br><div align="center">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/Map1-2.jpg)</div>Back in town, we’ve come to the second 3-way stop light. In front, there’s the driveway up to the town’s first church in all its Protestant glory. Behind that lies the Protestant cemetery. If you take a right onto Lower Last Chance Road, you’ll see a bank on the left and a movie theater on the right. The theater only has two projectors and screens and it plays whatever movies the owners can get their hands on. You may see anything from a fairly new release, only out for a couple months, to an old black and white silent film.<br><br>Further down this road, there will be a library on the right. In this library’s basement is a small printing press. This runs the daily newspaper. The daily newspaper usually consists of a single page, front and back, or on a really busy day, it may be up to three pages front and back.<br><br>To the left, after a ways, is the local taxidermy shop, right next to the funeral home. Across from that are the veterinary clinic and the doctor’s office. A little over half way to the loop in Lower Last Chance Road, sits the Mormon Church on the left and its cemetery on the right.<br><br>Back at the second 3-way stop light, had you taken a left, you would have found the propane store on the right, and the shared offices of the handyman, plumber, and insurance salesman. Continue further, and you will see the town’s only school on the right. The school, ranging from Kindergarten through twelfth grade, consists of about two hundred children, with a graduating class of around 15-20. There are just enough kids for a football team, though game schedules are sparse due to location and drive time. A football field can be found in back of the school.<br><br>If continuing past the school, you would come to the residential area of this town. This will be a scattering of small houses and a few mobile homes. There’s nothing too fancy but the grounds are generally well kept.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>gsptGoddess</strong> on <strong>21-02-2012, 19:13:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i43.tinypic.com/16718y9.jpg)</div><strong><em><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: andale mono;" class="bbc_font">Lyguardia Fen</span></span></em></strong><br>Human<br>Day 1, Late Afternoon<br><br><hr><br>With a swift kick to the tire, her dusty old cowboy boots not even reacting, the woman almost seemed to growl. This was typical. Wherever she went, whenever she was so damn close, the old thing would break down on her. Retreating to sit atop the dirty Ford, toes tapping a tune against the windshield, bright brown eyes searched the road. She was off to the side, along the dirt that bore only weeds and a few, lingering remnants of road kill. Asking herself the question, "Should I stay, or should I go?" seemed to be a mood lifter as a small smirk crept onto her lips, The Clash's well-known lyrics spilling from her mouth.<br><br>"If I go there will be trouble<br>An' if I stay there will be double<br>So come on and let me know<br>Should I stay or should I go?"<br><br>The young woman couldn't help but laugh, head shaking as she pulled the tip of her white Dorfman slightly lower, casting a stronger shadow against the heat that threatened to deepen her cheeks. Having no idea of what truly awaited her, how those simple song lyrics were only too true to her situation, she kept singing. Soon, the song turned to a hum, allowing her to finally try and make a decision. What to do?<br><br>Should she sit there, upon the roof of the rusty old pickup, awaiting some sort of assistance? Was that a smart move? Considering she hadn't passed a single soul in over two-hundred miles, that option began to feel extremely stupid. Who knows how long she would be sitting out there, getting laughed at my the passing vultures who only hoped and prayed for her to pass out, collapse right then and there, so they could swoop in for their feast. They were patient creatures, this she knew. And considering the lack of any food in the car, and over a week's worth of an empty stomach, the longest she could wait was a few more days. Water could only sustain her for so long, and she was running low on that, as well.<br><br>So then there's the walk. She could just barely see the outskirts of a town, maybe another 50 miles down the winding road. Barely. Just barely. That was the problem. Leaning to the left, she pulled a pair of binoculars from the small hook in the door, knowing all too well how many ghost towns ran amuck through such deserted areas. "Come on, papa," was all she muttered, pressing the twin magnifiers to her lids. "Hallelujah!" A full, throaty laugh escaped her as the movement within the town registered into her eyes and brain. At least she knew there were people out there, but there was another problem: time. Sure, she had all the time in the world, but were she to begin her trek now, the mixture of scalding sun and lack of anything of nutritious value in her stomach were a recipe for disaster - yet another option that would make the vultures happy. To walk, she'd have to wait until nightfall, then make her way out there.<br><br>"Should I stay or should I go," she mused once more, deciding to rid her torso of the plain, white t-shirt it bore. "Sooner or later, skin cancer is gonna come bite me in the ass." The t-shirt now splayed behind her, elbows resting upon it, the woman threw her head back, suddenly glad she had stolen the small, white bikini from that bitch of a saleswoman back in Colorado. It would allow her to continue absorbing color onto her already deep, olive skin. Of course, she ignored the dark jeans that covered her legs, boots that encased her feet; Colorado had brought a lot of vigilante running, so she only needed to even herself out. It's pretty hard to tan your arms and torso in a hoodie.<br><br>Eyes slowly closing, the twenty-two year-old began singing an old country favorite of hers. Her decision was made: she would sit and wait until nightfall before taking the old shot gun from behind the passenger's seat, along with a few extra rounds, and make her way into the town. Hopefully the presence of the hefty family heirloom didn't get her into trouble on the way in. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elf</strong> on <strong>21-02-2012, 20:34:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/elfi9.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Oyohusa Adawehi (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5898522#msg5898522)<br><strong>Location:</strong> County Road 923 heading into Reedland, Utah<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, evening<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Lyguardia Fen (Iggy)<br><br><hr><br>The night before when the Native American made his camp in an unknown wooded area several hundred yards from the highway he kneeled down setting on his heels facing his small camp fire. He was shirtless and without anything covering his feet but wearing old faded and well worn blue jeans. Although he was facing the fire as if gazing into it his dark brooding eyes were closed. His lips were moving but no sound could be heard as he silently chanted calling upon his totem spirit, the great wolf who ever since he was a child appeared to him as a female. He was asking her for guidance as the trail to the monsters he hunts had gone cold he needs help from the spirit world to show him the right path. With opening his eyes he reached into a pouch laid out in front of him on the ground and gathered a pinch between thumb and forefinger. He tossed the small amount of powder into the flame which instantly flare up and change to a pale green hue and the smoke thickened into a small cloud like formation that despite the mild breeze did not move from its spot just above the small fire.<br><br>Oyohusa finally opened his eyes and looked into the smoke hanging in place. Slowly the smoke churned and twisted then an image of a young woman appeared to him in the smoke. She has long dark hair almost black and full lips. He was confused by the image as she is not coming in the form of other victims of those he hunts. Others the image would freeze and begin to decay showing that their death was imminent if he did not reach them in time, but this girl remained beautiful and alive. Slowly the image pulled back to show her moving about a rustic styled restaurant clearly as a server there. He muttered in the language of his ancestors asking where this girl is, where the restaurant is located. He does not ask the reason for seeing her as he does not question where Wolf leads him or her reasons. He just knows that she is to be followed even if what she wants for him is not the same as he wants. The image finally showed him the outside of the tavern then more of the town finally showing him the sign on County Road 923 which read “Welcome to Reedland, population 1013.” That is where the image faded and the smoke dissipated and the fire returned to normal.<br><br>The next morning the warrior dressed in a faded flannel shirt to match the worn appearance of his jeans topped it with an equally aged denim jacket and straw cowboy hat with native bead work and a single eagle feather. His boots are brown scuffed and dusty. He patched up his camp leaving no trace he had ever been there. As he started his walk along the road side he had a backpack on his back with staff of his spear in his hand while the razor sharp head was stored in the pack along with his tomahawks. His three knives are hidden beneath the jacket. The only weapons visible are the unstrung bow fastened to the side of the pack and the quiver of arrows on the opposite side. The sun was just cresting the eastern horizon when he left the woods to once again start walking on the shoulder of the road.<br><br>The sun is beginning to set in the west when the traveler pauses to read the sign saying he has reached County Road 923 and another signing indicating that Reedland is in the direction he is heading. He adjusts the pack and continues his trek. Soon after the sun is full set he spots an old Ford truck on the side of the road. At first he pays let attention to the derelict vehicle thinking it is either abandoned or the owner has gone off to get help. It is not until he is alongside the battered and rusty pickup that he notices the woman on the hood.<br><br>Oyohusa stops and looks at the young woman and for the first time in the four since his village was slaughtered he thinks about the beauty of a woman. In her jeans and boots her dark skin and hair remind him so very much of the woman he had loved and lost with rest of his people. As he looks upon her he becomes aware of something else. She seems to be carrying a weight of sorrow and lose much like his own. He does not know how he knows this but he does know, he can just sense it about her. He shakes his head to clear it of these thoughts as they do not matter and will not help get his vengeance.<br><br>”Excuse me, Miss. If I can get your truck running will you take me into town?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arioch</strong> on <strong>22-02-2012, 04:04:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Max Jerious (http://msg5898391)<br><strong>Location:</strong>Reedland, Utah<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, late afternoon<br><br>It was getting dark, the mountains making the sun set a bit early, but, it was still early enough that the sheriff should be at the station.&nbsp; Max could see the lights of the town up ahead and checked the clock on the suburban's dash board.&nbsp; There was still time to catch the man before he left for the day. From the briefing, he was punctual and stuck to his routines. <br><br>Other than the road noise only the dispatch calls and officer response were breaking up the silence. Reaching down Mad grabbed the mic, brought it near his mouth and spoke, "Unit 5452 approaching patrol sector." He then returned the mic as he heard the reply, <em>"Roger, 5452 is on station."</em>&nbsp; It was a simple code and was working for the disguise as well as the true reason he was here.<br><br>Using the GPS he guided the vehicle to the station and parked in front. Stepping out of the truck, already dressed in uniform, he slipped on the Campaign "Smokey" Hat and walked into the station, "I'm Corporal Jerious, here to see Sheriff," he paused a moment to look at the clipboard he was carrying, "Sheriff Monroe."<br><br>"I'm Sheriff Monroe." Came the voice from the open office door.<br><br>Max smiled, nodded and touched the bill of his hat before turning away from the receptionist and toward the office. He knocked twice before stepping in, "Sheriff, I'm Corporal Jerious, Max Jerious, State Highway Patrol. I've been assigned to patrol this sector." He raised up a hand to stop the outburst that was about to happen, "I'm here to work with you, not instead of you, Sheriff. I grew up in a small town and don't plan to change the hierarchy.&nbsp; My hope is to stay outside of town and only deal with things in town at your request, and then, only as support, not as control."<br><br>"Oh really?" The sheriff asked as he looked Max up and down, "I've dealt with State Patrol before and..."<br><br>"Yes, sir. I know about the incident a couple years ago." That had been part of the briefing he was given. The warning had been clear, the Sheriff will not appreciate this cover, so make friends with him quickly. "I can assure you, I don't want to make waves for you. You have a distinguished record in this town and I don't need to have my superiors hear that I pissed you off.&nbsp; Lt. Sheldon wouldn't be too happy with me." He dropped the name of Clark Monroe's former academy mate. The two had become close during their training and had stayed in touch through the years.<br><br>A hand waved at Max, "If you're working for Lt. Sheldon, I might be able to trust you."<br><br>Grabbing a few sheets from his clipboard Max handed them to the Sheriff, "I was told to provide these to you, sir." The papers were a list of his training and certifications showing that he was certified as a State Bureau of Investigations as well as Special Emergency Response Team (SERT).&nbsp; <br><br>Glancing over the paperwork Clark replied, "First off, you don't call me sir. You can call me Sheriff, Sheriff Monroe, Mr. Monroe. But, under no circumstance, shall you call me sir. Do I make myself clear, son?<br><br>"Of course, Sheriff." MAx smiled in response and stood patiently.<br><br>"Okay, its getting late and this is quite a dossier." He tossed it on his desk and stood up, "I'm going to read it in the morning. For now, why don't you get settled in, grab some dinner and plan to be here at 8. All is quiet which means I can head home at 5. I run a tight ship and don't like my people working late if they don't have to. Keeps everyone happy."<br><br>The clock read 5:01, and, just like Max was told, the Sheriff liked to be punctual, "Thank you, Sheriff. I'll see you in the morning." Max then walked out the way he came in and slipped into the drivers seat of his police vehicle. His fingers moved quickly over the keyboard as he punched in the address to his next location. It was to the location of the person he really had to report to.<br><br>***********************************************************************<br><strong>Time:</strong> 6:00 PM<br><br>Pulling up to the house Max turned off the suburban and slipped out. This time, he didn't bother with the hat. She wasn't going to care. He stopped at the door and knocked, patiently waiting for anyone to open it.&nbsp; A female maid opened the door and he Max spoke before she had a chance, "Faith Leighton, please." She was human but didn't need to know that he wasn't. Taking on the attitude of an officer would be a good thing.<br><br>Moments later he saw her walking toward the door, a smile on her face and a look of curiosity on her face, not giving any indication that she knew he was outside before he had knocked. Before she could say a word he chimed in, "Ms. Leighton, I'm Highway Patrolman Jerious, Max A. Thats, Max. Alastor." He pronounced the last word slowly so that there would be no confusion as to who he was. "I've been assigned to patrol this sector. Since I'll be in the area for a while, and we have a mutual friend, I was asked to bring this to you." He then turned over a large manila envelope with a wax seal. It was his official dossier and was for her and the lord of the area. "Let me know if I can be of any assistance. A pleasure to meet you."<br><br>He then turned and left. Max had announced his presence and provided his official documents as well as any other orders that may have been involved.&nbsp; Now, he would perform his duties until told otherwise.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>gsptGoddess</strong> on <strong>22-02-2012, 06:50:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i43.tinypic.com/16718y9.jpg)</div><strong><em><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: andale mono;" class="bbc_font">Lyguardia Fen (Iggy)</span></span></em></strong><br>Location: County Road 923; Reedland, Utah<br>Time: Day 1, Evening<br>Tagged:Oyohusa Adawehi<br><br><hr><br>A voice. Was there a voice? What had it said? With the intake of a sharp breath, the woman's eyes opened, iris' crowned in a strange gold, as they usually did when she allowed herself to be battered by the sun with no protection. A short nap had become an amazing thought to her, and she obviously gave in to that alluring thought. Now able to feel the heat on her chest, arms and abs, the slight color to her cheeks, Iggy sat up, nose scrunching in slight disdain as she she thought once more about the voice. Now what had it said?<br><br>”Excuse me, Miss. If I can get your truck running will you take me into town?”<br><br>She allowed a leg to rest, folded, to the side, while the other helped to prop up a lazily resting arm, boot placed firmly against the glass of the windshield. The woman removed her Dorman, only to run a few fingers through her long locks and once more place the pure white cap upon her head. Those crowned eyes turned to the man beside her vehicle, flickering over him in curiosity. Head to toe, denim, flannel, denim, backpack- all faded. The look of his face and hair, the faint scent of smoke, and the staff in his hand. It all pointed in the same direction. Some sort of tribal man. Carrying weapons, of course. They all do, especially when traveling; or at least the ones she had met did. They were in the weighted pack, his staff likely only half of a much larger weapon.<br><br>Iggy glanced back down the road from with the both had come, silently pondering what to do. There was no reason to fear the man, no. Perhaps if she remember what that felt like-fear, that is. She had lost that sense... Long ago. Regardless, she had also dealt with her fare share of dangerous men, whether they be the nasty truckers that try to pick up pretty girls, or the oh-so-typical rugged types that no woman can resist having a quick romp with behind a deserted gas station. Men were men, very few worth feelings, but enough worth a good fuck. A smirk at the thought as she glanced over the native man once more before twisting her legs and jumping swiftly off the truck, the white t-shirt she had laid on now pushed into her left back pocket.<br><br>"Your name?" A brow was cocked up at him. "I don't allow any man to touch my equipment without a name." <em>What a lie.</em> Of course that statement may have sounded a bit strange, even distasteful, but she hadn't thought too much of it. "Tell me your name and we've got a deal," she held out a hand, awaiting his shake.<br><br>Did she seem too straight forward? Sure. Was she sometimes too friendly? Definitely. Did she care? Not at all. This man proved no threat to her, and she needed the old hunk running to get anywhere. Save a few bucks and get some good conversation.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Syberfang</strong> on <strong>22-02-2012, 08:23:58</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong><em>Michael Corbin</em></strong><br><br><br>"What do you mean, you can't?" Michael yelled into the pay phone, located outside the grocery store. <br><br>"I'm sorry sir we won't have any drivers until the end of the holiday." The voice of the man at the other end said.<br><br>"What holiday?!" he screamed he didn't keep track of holidays, but he did know that only holiday one started at the beginning of the month, and it wasn't July.<br><br>"It's a local holiday sir," The man responded<br><br>"So let me get this strait, the guy at the shop here says that he has to order my part, which could take a minimum of a weeks time, and you're telling me that I'm stuck in bum fuck who knows where, until the end of the weekend!" He was loosing hold of his anger and patience.<br><br>"No sir, the holiday ends on the 12th." &nbsp;The man said, a little unsteady.<br><br>"Next week!"Michael yelled. Suddenly the sound of a woman came on the phone. She spoke in a rather soothing manner.<br><br>"Please deposite 75 more cents to continue this call" He slamming the phone home into the booth. <br><br>"ARGHHAAAA" &nbsp;He screamed kicking a rock down the empty parking lot. It skipped away into the darkness. He grabbed a hold of the booth and started shaking it violently. A woman walking by grabbed her child and hurried along down the side of the road, trying not to make eye contact with Michael. He smacked his palm to his head, and let out a deep sigh. He checked his cellphone for signal. Nothing. Of course he knew what it would say before he looked at it, but he was hoping it would give him some kind of hope. It didn't. He slipped his phone back in his pocket and picked up the phone again. He pushed in three quarters, and dialed a the only number he could think to call. <br><br><em>ring.....<br><br>ring....<br><br>ring....</em><br><br>"Whats up man!!!" The sound of Jeremy's voice came through as if he had never left the frat. Jeremy was his agent, and a rather good one at that. He just tended to be a little immature at times.<br><br>"Jeremy, it's Michael, I never thought i'd say this but it's goo-<br><br>"I'm not here right now, so just leave a word at the beep." Michael felt his hand tighten around the phone, as his anger filled him again. "Hello?" &nbsp;Jeremy's raspy voice came over the phone. <br><br>"Jeremy it's Mike." Michael said with a sigh of relief<br><br>"Michael baby! How's my favorite Novelist doing. You got further in the book?"<br><br>"No. Jeremy listen to me. My car broke down, and I'm in some place called Reedland."<br><br>"Reedland?" He paused "Is that on google maps?"<br><br>"Listen to me, the mechanic here said that he can't get the part for me until next week"<br><br>"Did you try getting a tow from the city?"<br><br>"Of course I did, they said something about a holiday.<br><br>"Oh yeah, Mumbio Week'<br><br>"What? Look I'm not even going to ask you how you know that. Is there anything you can do?"<br><br>"Sorry buddy, I'm a bit tied up right now. Literally." Jeremy let out a laugh as a girl in the background started giggling. "Look man, just stick it out. Maybe the change of scenery will do you some good. Maybe get some writing done? Get them creative juices flowing"<br>"I'm gonna get your creative juices flowing" The voice of the unknown woman said to Jeremy. Her voice caring through the phone<br><br>"I cant do that man haven't you seen those movies where the guy gets stranded in an unknown town, and the people are cannibals!"<br><br>"Got to go man, bye"<br><br><em>Click..</em><br><br>Micheal let out a sigh and hung the phone up gently. He ran his hands through his hair and looked up towards the night sky. He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed towards the Tavern. If he had to be here, he might as well make the best of it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elf</strong> on <strong>22-02-2012, 17:55:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n534/MaidensElf/imagesqtbnANd9GcTHq2nZ0e5GFwFvau4YvMh6ayAGPBsjKwC5cV3RqPAXCqfGywfVtg.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> &nbsp;Renair Malcovian (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5898525#msg5898525)<br><strong>Location:</strong> A Small farm house several miles outside of Reedland, Utah<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 0, night<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> None<br><br><hr> As the sun is setting Renair is driving on I-70 with no particular destination in mind. Two things happen the first being that vampire feels the ever present hungry growing and begins to think about his next infusion of fresh blood. At the same time he glances at the fuel gage of his BMW convertible noticing that it is at less than a quarter of a tank. The next exit sign simply reads “Reedland” and shows the symbol indicating that fuel can be found there. As he turns off of the Interstate Highway and on to the two lane county road he thinks about what he wants for his meal. A small malevolent smile spreads across his thin lips. He is in the middle of nowhere and he has a taste for some fear in his blood. So he flips the switch to bring the top down so the night air can blow across him and he can smell the scents that the wind carries. The smile turns to one of glee as he picks up the scent of a family separate from those coming from the town. A man and a woman both in their late twenties or early thirties and on child prepubescent, a girl maybe nine or ten years old, and his mouth actually starts to water as he thinks of the terror he will instill in them before he drinks the blood from each.<br><br>Following the scent of the family Renair turns down a long gravel drive running between neatly cultivated fields. He stops his car as soon as the old house comes into view, he does not want to alter them of his approaching with noise of the car on their driveway. He climbs out and walks the rest of the way making almost no noise at all. The smells of the dinner they recently had are still in the air mingled with the scent of a fresh cake baking. The front windows are dark illuminated only by the flickering light coming from a television. He thinks about entering through the front door but decides to use the rear entrance. After moving around the house he is pleased to find the kitchen light on and to see movement of a single person in there. He steps silently onto the back porch and peers in through the screen door which is the only thing barring his entrance. A different kind of hunger is added to his need for life giving blood as he looks at the attractive woman making the finishing touches on her freshly made cake before serving it to her family.<br><br>The screen door squeaks slightly when the hungry vampire opens it but before the woman can turn to see what caused the noise he moves with superhuman speed and clamps a powerful but small hand over her mouth preventing a scream. He turns the woman to face him even as he savors the smell of her sudden fear. He is not a tall or even heavily muscled man, standing only 5’8” with a slender almost feminine build. His clothing is sleek, shiny, and soft to the touch and matches the blackness of his hair. Staring into her eyes which are just slightly lower than his own he pins her back to the counter top with his body and the force of his hand covering her mouth as he takes the spatula still covered with chocolate frosting from her hand.<br><br><hr><br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, 6:15 pm<br><br>A sedan only a few years old pulls up the long drive and in a familiar way pulls ups to the back of the house. An older man probably in his sixties climbs out of the driver’s seat and walks around the car to open the passenger door for the woman in the same age range as him. She gets out of the car and heads straight to the back door while man stops to look around the farm. He gives a nod of approval and is just turning to accompany his wife to the house when he hears a blood curdling scream. He looks up to see the woman standing in the doorway with the screen door open and her hand clutching at her chest. He rushes up the and just manages to catch her as she collapses. As he is supporting his wife he looks into the kitchen of the house that until just a few years ago was his. The sight that reaches his eyes turns his blood cold and he nearly collapses as well.<br><br>The very first horror that greets him is the twisted, broken and bloody body of his granddaughter on the floor near the rear entrance. Then he sees his son crumpled partially in a kitchen chair and draped over the table with blood pooled all around. As his eyes move further into the kitchen he finally sees what is left of his daughter in law. She is nude and pinned bent over backwards over the kitchen counter there is still chocolate on the spatula with its handle driven through her right wrist into the counter top. A wooden spoon is driven through her left wrist pinning it to a cabinet door. The older man’s legs suddenly seem like rubber and he slumps to the ground weeping for his lost family.<br><br>It takes the man several minutes to calm himself enough to stand again. After putting his distraught wife back in the car he walks around to the front of the house clearly not wanting to walk through the kitchen. He enters the house through the front door and goes straight to the telephone and dials the operator as soon as the line connects he says that he needs to speak to the sheriff.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arioch</strong> on <strong>22-02-2012, 21:17:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name: </strong>Max Jerious (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5898391#msg5898391)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Reedland, Utah<br><strong>Time: </strong> 6:20 PM, Day 1<br><br>All introductions done that were the priority. Now it was time to start getting known in town. Mostly just becoming a face people saw around the town. Max looked down and checked his fuel gage, still over a quarter tank so he could deal with that in the morning. That meant he needed to go where the locals were. Evening, work day, most likely that meant the tavern. The miners would be having dinner, drinks or both.<br><br>His <em>personal</em> cell phone rang. That was the number he would give out to just anyone. The other phone he carried was only known by a very few people. Only those he could trust or that he had to remain in constant contact with. Checking the caller ID he saw it was the sheriff. His number had been programmed in after his briefing. Of course, he just met the sheriff so he must have taken the paperwork home with him. Keying it he placed it on his ear and spoke, "Jerious." It was a simple greeting said calmly and with no recognition in the voice. <br><br>"Alright, young man. I'm going to need you to help me out before tomorrow."&nbsp; The voice of the sheriff was curt but then softened, "Seems like we have a situation on the outskirts or town. A farm house. The three residents killed. Found by the parents." There was a pause and the sheriff sighed, "I know them pretty well... oh, hell, I know most of the people out here pretty well. No matter, you do this by the book. Secure the area and don't let anyone mess with the scene."&nbsp; The sheriff then gave the address and stayed silent for a moment, "I spoke to Lt. Sheldon, he speaks highly of you. If he hadn't, I would have waited for my deputy to get back from the mine. But..." Another pause and a sigh, "It doesn't sound like a good scene. This weren't no accident.&nbsp; I'll be there ASAP."<br><br>"Roger that, Sheriff. I'll make sure that nothing is disturbed. I will have to start taking pictures. Procedure. I'm sure you understand." Max was already turning the vehicle, the lights flashing but no siren. Once he was headed in the right direction he pressed on the accelerator.&nbsp; The lights would give him clearance past any other cars. Sirens, on the other hand, drew attention. And that was something he didn't want. Not until he knew what happened. The first rule was to not let humans be the first on a murder scene. Just to make sure it wasn't something that had to be dealt with by people like Max.<br><br>"I know. I know. Just don't mess anything up. Go Buy The Book." The last four words were emphasized and then he hung up.<br><br>*************************************************************************<br><strong>Location:</strong> Farmhouse, outside of Reedland, Utah<br><strong>Time: </strong> 6:30 PM, Day 1<br><br>Pulling the police truck in front of the house, Max blocked in the other vehicle that was there.&nbsp; A couple was huddled together, the woman crying and the man trying to console her.&nbsp; As he exited the vehicle Max slipped a flashlight into the duty belt. He didn't need it, but, appearances were important, "I'm Corporal Jerious. Sheriff Monroe called me and told me there was a scene to investigate."&nbsp; He looked about the area even as the man pointed toward the back of the house, "Both of you stay right here. I'll check things out and then take your statements."<br><br>Opening the rear doors to his suburban, Max pulled out two bags, from the looks they were camera bags. One had a roll of police tape threaded through the shoulder strap. Both had plastic bags and gloves stuffed into the outside pockets, looking just like something a police officer would have. The bags were slipped over his shoulders and he started to put on a pair of gloves as he walked toward the rear of the house. While still in sight of the couple he withdrew a camera and started taking a few photos, the flash casting some eerie shadows.<br><br>Along the whole way he took photos, trying to capture as much as what was in front of him as he could. When he got to the back door he peered in through the window, took a few photos and then looked through the door to take more.&nbsp; He even took photos of the door handle which didn't appear to have anything on it he could see.<br><br>The wind shifted and his nostrils flared. The scent of blood hit him along with something else. He then noticed that he was starting to get aroused and his blood felt warm. Had he been a younger vampire, he might have succumbed to the blood lust he was starting to feel. It was faint, but the aroma was still there.&nbsp; Stepping back, he turned around and took a breath of fresh air. Anyone that might be seeing him would think it was an officer trying to gain his composure from a grisly scene.<br><br>A moment later he turned back, he already knew the signs of what he was seeing, now he had to hide them. Stepping inside he moved to the first body and stood over it. Opening the second bag he takes out an item and dips it into the blood. Moving to each body he repeats the process.&nbsp; Going back to the door he steps outside, scans the area and then flicks the object toward a tree. When it is found, it will be ruled as the murder weapon. The item was a climbing claw. Made popular in any movie that had ninjas. The four small, pointed hooks were similar in size to the canines of a dog or a vampire. And, if inserted into the neck of a victim, could tear the flesh, just like a vampire would.<br><br>Without stopping his progress he moves back to the front, shaking his head and moving back to his vehicle, not talking to the couple just yet. Getting back to the truck he grabs the door, looking away from the house and wipes his right hand over his face. He then steps away, casts a glance at the couple and moves to tape off the area, "As soon as I finish this, I'll need to ask you a few questions. I know it will be hard, but anything you can tell me is going to help find who did this." It was a lie. They couldn't help with this, but, like he thought before, appearances are important.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elf</strong> on <strong>23-02-2012, 15:29:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/elfi9.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Oyohusa Adawehi (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5898522#msg5898522)<br><strong>Location:</strong> County Road 923 heading into Reedland, Utah<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, evening<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Lyguardia Fen (Iggy)<br><br><hr><br>The native stands as if he but a statue the only movement is his slow steady breathing, the feather in his hat and the one fastened to his hair fluttering in the slight breeze, and his eyes as they watch the young woman awaken. He sees but does not react at to her momentary look of disdain that cross her pretty sun kissed face. As she moves she reminds him even more of the woman he had loved and lost. As she looks him over than back up the road he simply stands patiently waiting her reply with his dark troubled eyes never leaving her. When her gaze returns to him and she smirks he still does not react. He his face remains completely devoid of any emotion, clearly he is a patient man and in no hurry.<br><br>When the tanned dark haired beauty jumps down from the hood of the rusted old truck the man’s eyes just continue to follow her. When she requests his name claiming that no man can touch her equipment without first giving his name he does incline his head slightly to with a movement so minor it could hardly even be considered a nod. The shaft of his spear however quickly moves from his right hand to his left when her hand is extended to him. His hand shake is firm and quick just like he would have done if shaking hands with a man. ”Oyohusa Adawehi.” With that out of the way sealing the agreement he moves around her to the front of the truck.<br><br>The staff is placed on the ground next to the pickup and the backpack is removed and placed leaning against the bumper. As Oyohusa opens the hood he start to chant very quietly in the language of his Cherokee ancestors. He is calling on not his totem, Wolf, this time but instead the spirit of the great stallion. Without pausing in his chanting he bends down to open his pack once the hood is raised. Instead of pulling out any sort of tools he digs out a small leather pouch. He dumps a small amount of a black powder into the palm of his left hand then returns the pouch to his pack. He then pauses in his chanting just long enough to put a few drops of his saliva in his palm with the powder. Resuming his chanting he mixes the two together until has a small amount of a thick black paste in his hand. Using the middle finger of his right hand to collect some of the paste and then draws a crude shape of a running horse on the air filter cover of the old engine. Throughout this process he has been calling on the great stallion to grant this vehicle a measure of the spirit’s speed and strength. He uses all of the paste to mark the engine leaving only a blackened finger tip and a spot on his left palm.<br><br>Oyohusa closes the hood of the pickup and pulls a cloth from his pack and wipes the black marks from his hands. Without looking back at the girl he returns the cloth to his pack and closes it back up. He then picks up the pack and his staff and walks around the passenger side of the truck to place both in the bed. He has the utmost confidence that his magic will work to get the truck moving and thus climbs into the cab and sets in the passenger seat. The powder he used he knows will only survive a short time once the engine heats up and once it is gone it will die again. He did this on purpose because too much use of magic would eventually completely destroy the motor. Once in the vehicle he turns to look at the driver through the windshield waiting for her to get in and keep her part of the deal.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>gsptGoddess</strong> on <strong>23-02-2012, 20:39:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Lyguardia Fen<br>County Road 923; Reedland, Utah<br>Day 1, Evening<br>Tagged: Oyohusa Adawehi<br><br><hr><br>"Call me Iggy," she smiled warmly.<br><br>The driver door open, she allowed herself to watch quietly through the glass-less window, the small smile that spread across her lips likely to confuse. Where most would have been bewildered by the native's actions, this woman simply smiled a soft, trusting smile. Although she was not a woman of magics and sorcery, but one who held no belief in ghost stories, werewolves and pixies, she had grown to understand the workings of the Indian people. Having spent months under the 'rule' of a tribal chief allows one to become very well acquainted with various workings. Her smile of trust was simply from memory. Of course, during her first few weeks with the tribe, she was surely sentanced to death, but her kind heart and 'spirit' spared her life, allowing the woman to find herself in a sort of family within the tribe. It was unfortunate that her time there had to end.<br><br>She must have spaced out in her thoughts for when she snapped back to the man, he was taking up his belongings, swiftly finding room for them in the empty bed of the truck. Dipping her head down for a moment, she seemed to nod, whether with humor or understanding, her expression would not say. With a sigh she replaced the shirt in her back pocket to cover her torso, deciding driving into town half naked probably wouldn't be the best of ideas. The door came to a swift slam as she slid onto the leather seats, they someone containing only dust, rather than the tatters and dirt that old age and years of travel would normally have brought.<br><br>Without an ounce of hesitation the key found itself in the proper slot, twisting forward, unleashing the stallion that had been ignited within the old engine. The grin on her face revealed pearly whites, a sharp contrast against her skin tone. The roar of the truck gave the woman a comfort she had lost through the sputtering of the last few weeks, so she chose to enjoy it, allowing the drive into town to remain silent.<br><br>Barely half an hour later the two arrived at the Auto Repair Shop nestled between a fork in the road just on the edge of Reedland (she obviously chose to exhaust as much of the engine as she had remaining from Oyohusa's abilities). Unfortunately, the dark sky that raised her suspisions proved true as she glimpsed the larged 'CLOSED' sign in the window.<br><br>"Guess I'll have to leave 'er for the night. Come back to talk to someone in the morning." The vehicle was parked in one of the empty slots on the side of the building, the only light she could see coming from the Tavern and stop light a ways down the road. "So where to for you, Oyohusa?" She took the name informally, never once having used a sir, ma'am, or any virtue of a proper name in a good seven years, almost as if she couldn't bring herself to speaking in such a way again. Already standing beside the driver seat, she took to disassembling the old shot gun, simply to fit it into the duffle bag that now replaced her body on the leather. "Tavern looks decent," she murmurs, seemingly preoccupied, before a smirk flickers back to her lips. "Oh, and don't you think I'll be accepting of this whole 'silent' thing you've got going on, hun. You're forced to talk when you're around me,". Although her smile now seemed earnest, it held traces of curiosity towards his answer, if there even would be one. The woman couldn't stand people who chose to just keep to themselves, especially when they had fiery, rambunctious characters around them who just would not accept such a thing.<br><br>Finished with the snug situating of the weapon amongst her clothes, she held the duffle bag over her shoulder, watching the man intently. "So what's it gonna be?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elf</strong> on <strong>24-02-2012, 19:47:57</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/elfi9.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Oyohusa Adawehi (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5898522#msg5898522)<br><strong>Location:</strong> County Road 923 heading into Reedland, Utah<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, evening<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Lyguardia Fen (Iggy)<br><br><hr><br>Throughout the ride into town Oyohusa remains silent as is his usual behavior. His eyes barely waver from the road ahead. He does not know or care why Iggy is also silent. In a way he is grateful for her silence, it is not very often that he spends time with other people that they do not start asking questions that he would really rather not answer. It is nice to simple be in the company of the lovely young woman without those questions. Oddly though just before they arrive at the closed repair shop he looks over at her and wishes that maybe she would be one of those that would talk even if he does not, just to hear her voice. As he looks at now in the white tee shirt she continues to remind him of his lost love. A slight pain begins in his chest as he cannot remember how many times he had sat in the passenger seat of their rusted and batter old pickup while she drove. It was never that he could not drive but that she just loved to drive and he had loved seeing her happy. Their truck? They were not married yet and it was his truck but he had loved her so much and was so sure that she would be his wife that he just thought of everything as theirs not just his.<br><br>When Iggy parks the truck Oyohusa remains unmoving for a moment as a single tear rolls down his cheek. It is not so much the memory or her death that has caused the tear it is that he has trouble remembering so much of their life. An unexpected side effect of the spell he cast to forget his name is that so many other details of who he was before are just gone as well. When she closes up her duffel after stowing the shotgun in it he finally gets out of the truck. He retrieves his belongings from the bed of the truck and almost heads off towards town without her but stops when she addresses him.<br><br>The native is slow to answer Iggy’s first question and sort of loses the opportunity as she goes on to speak more. At her comment about him being forced to talk he raises one eyebrow as he looks at her. When she finally stops to give a chance to reply he gives her a weak smile which does not even come close to reaching his eyes. ”I require a meal, as I’m sure you do also. Than lodging for the night. I agree the tavern does look decent, it also looks as though it has rooms. So I believe that is where I will be going.” He stops talking but does not move for a moment as he simply gazes at her before he lets out a soft sigh.<br><br>”Asking anything you like I will do my best to answer, but even before the tragedy that took everything dear to me I was never much into idle chitchat. If you do not like that you are under no obligation to remain in my company now that you have met your side of our deal. You are welcome to accompany me to the tavern if you can accept me for who I am without trying to make me something I am not.”<br><br>Oyohusa then adjusts the pack and starts to walk towards the well lit building down the street. A few hundred feet from the tavern he stops as he gets a better look at the place. Despite what it seems like he is not waiting for Iggy, he is looking at the building from his vision from the night before. He again wonders why for the first time in his four year hunt he did not see a victim or one of the vampires he is hunting. While he is stopped and looking at the building he becomes aware through the other spell he cast on himself to be able to detect vampires that there is a least one of them nearby and probably in the tavern. He can also sense something here that is neither vampire nor human.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>gsptGoddess</strong> on <strong>24-02-2012, 22:09:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i43.tinypic.com/16718y9.jpg)</div><strong><em><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: andale mono;" class="bbc_font">Lyguardia Fen (Iggy)</span></span></em></strong><br>Location: County Road 923; Reedland, Utah; Murphy's Tavern<br>Time: Day 1, Evening<br>Tagged:Oyohusa Adawehi<br><br><hr><br>There was something bothering the man, she could tell from the moment her eyes had set upon his figure; his last few words confirmed it. It was rare, these days, for people to simply state such a fact. Or maybe she thought it was rare because she wouldn't dare to even think about such a thing, let alone make others aware of it. Whatever the case, she shrugged the thought away. She knew all too well the repercussions of questioning a person about their past, especially a person who endlessly forced themselves to forget it. Somewhat loosening the apparent death grip she had on the handles of her duffel bag, Iggy breathed deep before releasing a long, silent sigh, eyes opening back up to the world after a short nod (a trick she had acquired at a monastery in northern Texas).<br><br>Wondering why the man had stopped to stare up at the building, she chose to do the same, standing beside him with a scrunched up nose- her trademark for frivolous thought. "Murphy's, huh? Must be family own," she shrugged. Her faced turned to him with a bright smile, finger flicking at the feather in his hair while her body moved forward. "Come on, FeatherTail! Let's get inside. I'm dying to get away from having to spend another night out in the desert." <em>Hmm... FeatherTail. I think I've got a nickname for this man.</em> A chuckle and a head shake and the tavern door opened.<br><br>Now, the woman had known her body craved food; it had told her. Growling stomach, a little bit of squish off the thighs. All obvious signs toward the need for food. However, what she didn't know was how much she needed that food. The second the warmth hit her face and the grand breeze of freshly cooked food wafted in-- oh, she just died. "Hallelujah!" She couldn't help but laugh loudly as her butt found one of the wooden chairs, duffle bag set beside the table in a manner that would allow her constant monitoring of it (her feet rested atop the bag, crossed at the ankles in sheer comfort). Positiveness that she had received several strange looks from those around her didn't change the woman's demeanor at all. A menu now in her hands, she peered down at it, looking for the most home-cooked-styled item in there; she may be a lady, but anyone could tell by her cowboy hat and worn boots that she worked hard, and hard work meant good grub.<br><br>As she expected Oyohusa to have seated himself across from her, she chose to converse with the man, eyes still glued to the menu.<br><br>"So what brings you to good ole Reedland, Utah, FeatherTail?" A smirk at the now-in-use nickname.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>25-02-2012, 02:59:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/ClarkMonroe.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/JoshHartley.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Clark Monroe (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br>Josh Hartley (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Farmhouse, outside of Reedland<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, 6:50pm<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Max Jerious<br><br>"God dangit, Hartley!" Clark Monroe shouted as he climbed from his vehicle. He turned to address the young man scurrying from his old beat up Honda Accord that he'd parked right behind the Sheriff.<br><br>"Are you just attached to my ass or what?" The Sheriff had approached the young man, who was very busy strapping cameras around his neck. He stopped, regarded Monroe for a minute, the pulled out his pen and notepad.<br><br>"Sorry, Sheriff. I saw the other car with the lights on but I was too late getting to my own car to follow. So I had to follow you instead," Josh used a middle finger to slide his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "So what's all the fuss about? What have we got?" He motioned toward the house and the new guy that was stringing it up with crime scene tape.<br><br>"Alright, Josh. You can come along but I don't want to hear a peep out of you. These folks have been through enough today," Clark's face drew into a gravely sympathetic frown as he approached the couple. He had known them most of his life, gone to school with the woman.<br><br>"Jim, Patricia," Clark removed his hat as he spoke. "Words can not express how deeply sorry I am for your loss. We are going to do our best to apprehend the sick bastard that did this. Take a moment while I confer with my..." What was the word Jerious had used? Ah yes. "Support."<br><br>The Sheriff approached Max with Josh in tow, scribbling notes quicker than his hand seemed capable. Josh stopped for a moment, the door to the kitchen area still left wide open, the sight left on grizzly display. Josh froze in place and paled.<br><br>"Alright, Corporal," Clark continued, seeming to not realize Josh's reaction. "What have you got for me?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arioch</strong> on <strong>27-02-2012, 04:02:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Max Jerious (http://msg5898391)<br><strong>Location:</strong>Reedland, Utah<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, 6:50 PM<br><br>"You!" MAx snapped his fingers at Josh and pointed at him, "Get back over by the vehicles. This is a crime scene." As the man turned to look at him and say something Max interjected, "Didn't the sheriff say to keep you mouth shut? This is my crime scene and I make the rules. BAck by the vehicles."<br><br>He then turned to the sheriff and addressed the look he was getting from him, "This is out of the town limits, sheriff. I hate to do it, but, there is an additional reason. You know this family and you could let emotion cloud your judgment. Especially when you here the rest."&nbsp; He looked to make sure Josh had gone away then he pulled the sheriff over and spoke quietly, "I believe we have a copycat killer on our hands. I read a case file when I was going through the SBI training. This case involved a serial killer in Nebraska or Iowa, can't recall which. The killer would do the same type of thing. Except he was a bit worse. Whoever did this here," he pointed with is thumb toward the house, "read what was in the papers about it. He just didn't do what was in the actual case file. There were a few things the police left out for the families sake. This guy didn't do those things. That is why I believe it is a copycat."<br><br>Looking around to make sure the family members couldn't hear he explained to the sheriff, "The original sexually abused all the females, no matter how old they were. This one here, he only raped the mother." Once again he looked about and then turned back to look at the sheriff.<br><br>"This sicko sexually assaulted the mother before he killed her?"<br><br>"I can't prove she was alive at the time, but that is what I believe. He most likely pinned her to the counter, then dealt with the husband and daughter. After that, he could take his time with the mother. Again, I can't prove that. We would need a CSI team to tell us that."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>01-03-2012, 02:48:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/ClarkMonroe.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/JoshHartley.jpg)</div><div align="center"><strong>Name:</strong> Clark Monroe (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br>Josh Hartley (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Farmhouse, outside of Reedland<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, 6:50pm<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Max Jerious</div><br>"CSI team? Who the hell do I look like? Horatio Caine?" The Sheriff removed his hat once more and stressed the brim a second before placing it back on his head, a grimace on his face. "Dag nabbit! We're gonna hafta involve them folk from Emery..." The Sheriff wandered off, pulling out his cell phone and dialing as he went.<br><br>If anyone cared enough to pay attention to him, they'd see Josh over by the cars, texting away on his phone. He wasn't overt or anything worth noticing at the time.<br><br>The Sheriff reappeared next to Max. "Emery police are on their way. They're bringin a CSI unit." Clark looked disgusted for a moment. "In all my 25 years, we've never needed a CSI unit for a murder. Fact is, we've only needed them once, when some kid tried to burn down a damn barn." Clark's eyes misted over and he turned away from Max, clearly refusing to let Max see him upset. He cleared his throat and turned back around.<br><br>"You say the mother was pinned to the counter? And assaulted?" Clark's eyes shifted toward the open door for the first time since he'd arrived. He took a deep breath before entering the abode. His eyes, as if commanded by his own body not to look, sought the bodies of the child and husband first. Once again, the hat went off, and his head drooped. That was the moment his eyes connected with the sight of the mother.<br><br>"Oh for Christ's sake..." Clark managed to strangle out a moment before rushing outside and heaving up his dinner next to a tree. Tears streaked down the stalwart man's cheeks as he steadied himself against the large maple.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arioch</strong> on <strong>02-03-2012, 15:34:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Max Jerious (http://msg5898391)<br><strong>Location:</strong>Reedland, Utah<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, 6:55 PM<br><br>The sheriff's phone call was the break he needed. Max had been wanting to make a call since he made the discovery, but, there were too many people around. Now, with it being just him and Monroe he grabbed his real phone and quickly selected the contact he wanted.&nbsp; It rang three times before Faith answered, "Max, we just met and you are calling. A girl could think you have in interest in her..."<br><br>It wasn't a time for play and he cut her off with a curt whisper, "I have made a discovery in your area. My supervisors will be very concerned about this development. I will call later with a time and place to meet for you to be informed of this. You may have your lord present if you wish, but it will only be us three meeting. Inform nobody else, lest you be considered an accomplice." He had been whispering the whole time knowing that only she would hear anything. After his last word, he hung up, returned the phone to his belt and turned to wait for the sheriff to end his call. Max knew the threat he gave Faith was going to do two things; 1) make her angry. After all, who was he to be ordering her? 2) Make her realize that he now had a second reason to be present and his job was to make sure he completed his tasks. And nobody was allowed to interfere. No cost was too great. Every vampire that wasn't rogue understood that.<br><br>"Emry police are on their way. They're bringin a CSI unit." Monroe stated after the call. He then asked to see the scene and Max led him around. <br><br>The vamp was a little surprised at the man's reaction, although it played back into the earlier statement that he had a personal connection with the crime.&nbsp; Max stood there for a moment, letting the sheriff retch. It just so happened he had chosen the tree Max had planted the evidence at. After a moment he put his hand on the small of Clark's back, "Don't move, sheriff. I think we found the murder weapon" Max then turned on a small flashlight he had and illuminated the item, "Doesn't look like something this family would have had just lying around."&nbsp; Things would have been much better had the man puked upon the item. Tainted evidence was always hard to dispute. As it was now, the CSI team would be missing some key things, like skin upon the weapon. Still, that could be explained away. It wasn't like they would find the killer anyway. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>04-03-2012, 23:59:27</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/FaithLeighton.jpg)</div><div align="center"><strong>Name:</strong> Faith Leighton (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Farmhouse, outside of Reedland<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, 6:55pm<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Max Jerious</div><br>Alastor. His supervisors. My area... Holy. Shit! If Faith had a heart beat it would be racing right now. There was an Alastor in her town for less than 24 hours and he already had cause to alert his supervisors. His supervisors being the most secretive and high ranking in all of vampire society. And all of this was catching Faith unaware. Sebastian wasn't going to be too happy with her. Normally she wouldn't care what anyone else thought but she needed Sebastian to <em>not</em> be unhappy with her if she valued her position. Hell, if she valued her life! She needed to know what was going on, and immediately.<br><br>With the broken connection only moments old, Faith concentrated. Viewing this opening over such a distance was not new to her, but it <em>was</em> difficult.<br><br>"Emry police are on their way. They're bringin a CSI unit." And a flash of a kitchen.<br><br>Faith gasped. One thousand years later and the human reaction was still so ingrained. Faith was unnerved and Faith never got unnerved. She couldn't hide this from the boss. He had to be notified immediately. Just a phone call away...<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/JacksonHughes.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/SamanthaPickens.jpg)</div><div align="center"><strong>Name:</strong> Jackson Hughes (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br>Samantha Pickens (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Farmhouse, outside of Reedland<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, 7:25pm<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Max Jerious</div><br>The sun had hidden itself successfully below the mountain ranges by the time the black Suburban (http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/Suburban.jpg) pulled up. A man in his late thirties hops from the vehicle. He's wearing a very dark brown Sheriff's shirt, the gold star displayed prominently on his shirt, his sheriff's hat clasped in a hand. Out from the other doors come three men, carrying relatively modern equipment.<br><br>Behind and off to the side, pulled the coroner's van (http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/coronersvan.jpg). And elderly gentleman and his assistant came from the front seats. And directly behind the Suburban, pulled a news van (http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/newsvan.jpg). A cute blond quickly hops from the vehicle, followed by a man wielding a heavy duty camera.<br><br>Jackson had received the call from his Sire only moments before leaving the station and connected the two instances. He made the quick decision to give Samantha a call. Sam's face was a fresh one and she was easy to manipulate, given her great want for success. She was about to prove her worth to him and she didn't even know it.<br><br>"Why, Sheriff Hughes!" She cooed, approaching him and thinking she needed to butter him up as an appreciation for his call. He needed to seem realistic and didn't particularly object to her sexual advances. "Thank you so much for the call! What have you got for me?"<br><br>"Well, M'am," Jackson began, "All we know so far as that some very unfortunate events have happened in this house." His answer was cryptic but he knew her smart little dramatic brain would run with it and infer the reality of the situation.<br><br>Jackson approached Sheriff Monroe and an unknown other. He had no idea who this other person was. His Sire had given absolutely no specifics on the phone and Jackson was confused why there was even another person, save for the Sheriff's deputies, on the scene. The investigating crew, reporter, and camera man followed, with the coroner further behind after retrieving his stretchers and equipment from his van.<br><br>"This is Samantha Pickens, reporting to you live from the Lindon Farmstead on the outskirts of Reedland, where there appears to have been a murder..." Jackson managed to contain the smile, quirking at the corner of his lip. The woman was like putty in his hands, so predictable. He allowed her to come just far enough to get a glimpse in the kitchen, before pushing them back. <br><br>"Now, that's far enough for now, Ms. Pickens. Let us do our job before you come any closer." The enhanced eyes of his Lord would be able to pick all that was necessary from that single shot. Now was the time to mold this situation into his favor. And that favor was anything but vampires if he valued his life...<br><br>"Sheriff Monroe and... I didn't catch your name," Jackson eyed the other man curiously. The investigating team went on inside to perform their duties, already manipulated to overlook anything out of the ordinary.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arioch</strong> on <strong>05-03-2012, 20:45:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Max Jerious (http://msg5898391)<br><strong>Location:</strong>Reedland, Utah<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, 7:25 PM<br><br>Things were going rather well. The sheriff was handling the mundane things and Max only had to guide things in the right direction. He saw the new police vehicle approaching along with another and he turned, pretending to be occupied with something else.&nbsp; Then, as the cars were unloading he took out a can of chewing tobacco, something most cops did, and used that as an excuse to let things progress. He could smell the scent of the young vampire and was happy that there was another present. It would makes things easier even though he couldn't tell the newcomer what he was.<br><br>Max was about to say something to the sheriff when he glanced in the direction of the camera and the reporter. It was working out nicely, now it was time to feign disgust, "What the fuck are you doing?" He said it right as Jackson was trying to gather his identity, "You!" he pointed to the reporter and the cameraman, "Get beyond the yellow tape. Your contaminating a crime scene!"<br><br>Turning to Jackson he stepped into the man's face, "I'm Corporal Jerious, with State Patrol. What kind of operation do you normally run? This crime scene isn't your personal tour ground! I need CSI to look over every inch of this place to get all the evidence we can to catch the perp. Why the hell would you bring people into a marked off area before clearance has been given."&nbsp; Max knew that from this distance Jackson would easily detect his scent. There was no chance of mistaking who the other vampire was, hopefully, he would understand that all that was taking place was for the veil and nothing more. "Hold on."&nbsp; &nbsp;Max steped to the side and pointed at the coroners, "Are you two CSI? No? Then get out of my crime scene until I tell you otherwise. Hasn't anybody ever been part of an investigation?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>07-03-2012, 02:50:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/JacksonHughes.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/SamanthaPickens.jpg)</div><div align="center"><strong>Name:</strong> Jackson Hughes (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br>Samantha Pickens (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br>Clark Monroe (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Farmhouse, outside of Reedland<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, 7:25pm<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Max Jerious</div><br>Jackson stopped abruptly as he smelled vampire. His Sire was not forthcoming with a single bit of details and therefore Jackson was caught off guard. Luckily, his reaction can be written off as a play in the game of the Veil. At least, he hoped that's what this vampire was doing. He was awfully sure of himself asserting his authority, even when unneeded. If he wasn't acting under the guise of the Veil, Jackson wasn't going to be very happy about this treatment. For now, though, he'd play along.<br><br>He produced a fairly unforced snarl and stared Max directly in the eyes. "An efficient operation," Jackson enunciated each of those words. "Sir," he almost spit that last word. "Those," Jackson motioned at the cameraman and anchor woman, "are the news crew." Now the sarcasm was just blatant in his voice. "They intercepted the call. Others will be coming shortly," Jackon lied straight through his teeth. He knew no one else would be coming until they saw it on the news. He knew from past experiences that it was best to have the first spin on the story and his little piece of pretty putty gave him just that. However, he knew this new vampire had no idea that she was with him and could understand his trepidation. Jackson just wasn't really sure if the other vamp had any authoritative reason to hold such trepidity.<br><br>"You want the crime scene unit? Then here you go," Jackson motioned for the three other men wearing deputy outfits and holding somewhat antiquated equipment, to go on into the house. They obeyed promptly. "And as for the coroner," he motioned to the man and his assistant," that is indeed what these two men are and need to enter your precious crime scene here, to do their jobs. Wouldn't you <em>like</em> to know the times of death?"<br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/ClarkMonroe2.jpg)</div>"Now just calm down, you two," Clark had long sense recovered from his bout of nausea and now stepped between the two men, holding out hands in a calming fashion. Jackson managed to hold back a smile, having known full well that the level headed sheriff would step in to mollify both vampires. Clark turned to Jackson, hand still outstretched pacifyingly.<br><br>"Listen, Son. Corporal Jerious has been assigned to this district to lend me a hand," Clark explained to Jackson. "He's with the State Patrol and has, thus far, done quite a superb job with this crime scene. He's even found the murder weapon, here."<br><br>"Isn't there a highway for you to patrol?" Jackson countered. "I'm pretty sure there's a hundred and five mile stretch not too far from here that will keep you quite busy..." Jackson's voice trailed off as Sheriff Monroe's words hit him. Murder weapon? But every vampire knew with any political worth would know exactly what they were dealing with. This was the exact M.O. of one Renair Malcovian. This Max wasn't working directly for their Lord or Sebastian would not have need to send in his Childer. But clearly Max knew enough to cover up the incident with the locals. Why then had his Sire sounded so perturbed? It really shouldn't surprise him. His Sire always sounded perturbed. Maybe Jackson had misinterpreted the tone of his voice.<br><br>"Well then. I guess you'd better give it to my crew. We'll need to take it in for processing of course," Jackson looked to both Clark and Max and nodded.<br><br>"So far," the anchorwoman could be heard recounting to the camera, "all we know is that there's been at least one murder. You could see that from the body inside. I'm overhearing that there is, in fact, a state patrolman present."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>grovercjuk</strong> on <strong>08-03-2012, 23:51:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack Nixon<br>Location: Farmhouse outside Reedland, Utah<br>Time: Day 1, 7:25 PM<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Jack ground the cigarette butt into the earth, twisting his shoe until it was totally crushed. Life was so unfair, he had just started to have it good, and three little pussies to keep him warm at night. Getting in with the local drug boys, yes it had been good.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And then the door of the apartment had slammed open and that murderous enforcer of Melissa had come storming in. Why the bitch could not have left him alone, he should rip here throat out. Not that he would of course, no he saw her coming he would probably piss himself and run away. Which was a galling thing for a man to admit but the truth, he was no fighter.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hence the sacrifice of his pussies so that he could get away, to his bolt hole in the back end of nowhere. And their life had still not given up kicking him. There was the farmhouse crawling with cops, he could smell their stench even where he was hiding in a cluster of trees watching the farmhouse.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;So that bolt hole was out of the question although once the cops had gone the place was going to be empty and what was a little blood spill to a Vampire? Jack considered and then nodded to himself, stay hidden here until the cops left and then make himself at home in the farmhouse. The lunatic enforcer would never find him here, no way. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arioch</strong> on <strong>12-03-2012, 04:04:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Max Jerious (http://msg5898391)<br><strong>Location:</strong>Reedland, Utah<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, 7:27 PM<br><br>"No shit, you need to process it." He took it out of the bag he had placed it in. It was still in the plastic evidence bag as he held it up to Jackson's face, "Some fuck thinking he is a ninja or something. Either way, the guy needs to be found and put away for a long time."&nbsp; After Jackson took the bag Max stretched and faked a yawn, "Long day. And I can imagine that this night is going to be a long one as well.&nbsp; While those guys work, I'm going to start writing up my report."&nbsp; With that, he turned and walked toward his vehicle.<br><br>Sliding into the drivers seat he powered up his laptop. While that was going through the process Max took the memory card out of his camera. Once he logged in, he slid the card into the laptop and started working on an email. All the pictures were loaded into the email and he hit send. Max then grabbed his phone and dialed a number by memory. It rang three times before it was answered.<br><br>"You have only been on location a few hours. I find it hard to believe you would have found something already."<br><br>"I just sent an email with photos of what I have found. Although, it is not in regards to why I was sent. Instead, I have evidence that shows Renair is in the area."<br><br>"A fortuitous turn of events. How do you plan to proceed?"<br><br>"First, I plan to meet with the local Sheriff and perhaps her lord. I need to investigate that they are not hiding him. If they are, well, he will have a few less friends in the area before the night is over. After that, I will attempt to identify him and any vampires that may be working with him or protecting him, then notify you.&nbsp; All as per the standing instructions."<br><br>"You may proceed. Remember, Renair is not to be dealt with. He has eliminated many vampires that were foolish enough to attempt his death. Identify him and we shall send assistance."<br><br>The phone went dead with the last word and Max hung it up. He checked his computer and shut down the email. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>14-03-2012, 03:16:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i43.tinypic.com/66fbtf.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_u"><em><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Dianna L. Emerson</span></em></span><br>The outskirts of Reedland, nearbye<br>Human<br>Day 1, Evening<br><br><hr><br>Dianna had found the inward limits of Reedland to be endless. She took her car into the center of town and felt the spirit of something powerful. There was a spinning sensation around her as soon as she stepped out of the car. The general store appeared to have an excess of parking. she figured no body to mind if she left the old beater there. She had no plan for the evening, but in a worst case scenario she could return to her vehicle and sleep there.<br><br>The streets seemed a barren form of society. It was like her own personal ghost town. Reaching over the center counsel, Dianna packed her purse with her keys, her wallet, two bottles of water, chapstick, and her favorite book; "Anonymous Five". The novella had been written a few years before by a man named Francis Malcolm Post. Not many copies were pressed, locally made in Texas. She knew the writer well, a family friend and small time celebrity. Keeping it on her reminded her of what she was doing in her life. The accomplishment that had been given as an example by Mr. Post. And, the story itself, about a young woman changing her surroundings enough to accell above her expectations. The purse was light. She closed the car up and locked the doors. <br><br>A classic rock song poured through her head as she stepped off to the West, directly into the sunset that had forced the light away. She didn't know the dangers of town, and she was too high on freedom to feel the urgency in the wind, or her own mortality hanging from her sleeve.<br><br><hr><br><strong>7:27 P.M.</strong><br><br>She had started west, but ignoring the map and the stars, Dianna had covered ground all around Reedland and beyond. Now, backroads, and hidden trails through the landscape had put her on the edge of a disaster. She was walking with her head up, ignited by the emerging stars, and the hidden paths that led to no where. There was more than enough empty space to make a door. Dianna saw the spinning lights of the police peer around a thick billow of trees. The lights were miniature in the distance. However the shape of the farm was clearly lit up.<br><br>The moment she realized that she was close, she froze. Her rational mind was not damaged, a flick of the switch permitted her wit. 'You're in the middle of Nowhere, Dianna. There are more than two cop cars, at a farm. Also in the middle of nowhere.' The morals of childrens stories started to influence Dianna's next decision. 'Curiousity killed the cat. The boy who cried wolf. Little red Riding Hood. Santa Clause.' She shook her head clear of these ancient lessons. 'You're an adult. Do the adult thing.' <br><br>She kept her eyes open and started a soft approach toward the busy crime scene. 'The right thing would reveal itself shortly enough.' <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>grovercjuk</strong> on <strong>15-03-2012, 00:41:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack Nixon<br>Location: Farmhouse outside Reedland, Utah<br>Time: Day 1, 7:25 PM&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His last cigarette smoked Jack was bored, just what where the cops doing, they where taking forever to leave. He looked up at the sun, it was slowly sinking towards the horizon.&nbsp; Maybe once it went dark they would leave and he could move in.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Suddenly Jack tensed, he could hear some one moving towards the cluster of trees he was hiding in. He watched ready to bolt at the first sign of anyone dangerous. Then he felt his body relax, a human female a walker lost no doubt and heading for the lights she could see.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jack sank deeper into cover, let her pass, the cops would take her with them. Then as he watched her moving another thought came into his head. He would be alone in that farmhouse, maybe he should have a little company? He debated the risks of her screaming and the cops coming, there was no real physical problem. From what he could see she had no weapon and even the strongest human was no match what so ever against a Vampire.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He waited until she was closest to the trees and then just past them. Jack moved, to her it would seem like one minute he was not there, the next he was, that was if she had been looking. Which as he had come up at her from the back was unlikely.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He slammed his hand into her head at just the right spot and down she went. Grabbing her crumpled body he took her into the trees. It was only a matter of moments to bid her hands and legs along with a gag. She would wake it shortly, not that she could do a lot.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jack glanced to the farmhouse, cops still there but now a least he had something to pass the time. Once he had her in the farmhouse then the real fun could begin. But for now he could explore at least, his hands went to her breasts and with a happy smile on his face Jack began to play with them.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arioch</strong> on <strong>20-03-2012, 20:54:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Max Jerious (http://msg5898391)<br><strong>Location:</strong>Reedland, Utah<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, 7:45 PM<br><br>Max stayed in the car for a while. He typed fast and had finished as much of the report as he could, but he needed to make it look like he was working at normal speed.&nbsp; In an effort to pass the time, he entertained himself by watching those milling about, listening in on conversations and coming up with plans and the like for later.&nbsp; Satisfied that enough time had gone by, Max cracked his knuckles and slid out of the drivers seat.<br><br>The first thing he did was stretch then removed the chewing tobacco from his lip. He had almost forgotten it was there. Having gotten used to biting into wild animals to drain their blood, the flavor of tobacco was nothing. He did get a mild buzz from the nicotine, but it wasn't something a glass of wine could do to him either, it just went away faster and left him with flecks in his teeth.<br><br>Moving to the back he grabbed two bottles of water from the case he had and walked back to the sheriff, "Thirsty?" He handed him a bottle and then opened his own before taking a long pull from it. His eyes were taking in the methods of the investigators so he could use it later on. In all his years, Max had never been part of an investigation. Normally, he had to sneak in and plant evidence after the fact, or destroy it outright. Now, as a modern day police officer he was in on the action and he intended to learn as much as he could. Anything to help the Veil was an important factor and nothing could be overlooked. Max was good at paying attention and would make sure to commit anything he discovered to memory and share it with others in his line of work. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>20-03-2012, 23:26:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i43.tinypic.com/66fbtf.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_u"><em><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Dianna L. Emerson</span></em></span><br>The outskirts of Reedland, nearbye<br>Human<br>Day 1, Evening<br>Tagged- Jack<br><br><hr><br>Dianna stirred to consciousness. The first sensation was a wallowing nudge against her left breast. It was unnerving, for she realized that her eyes were open and she couldn't see anything. It was too dark in the place that she was being kept. The thick crusting taste of a rag was pushed against her tongue, and the gag that Jack had given her started a flow of tears from both eyes. The bonds that kept her from freedom, didn't keep her from movement, she immediately squirmed away, and attempted to roll over her own hog tie. she didn't get far, incidentally finding a patch of mud and settling there as her hip and her elbow sunk into the earth.<br><br>Moans and muffled shouts made her face clench. Turning herself, and angling her head as best as she could, her eyes finally put themselves onto Jack. His face horrified her, it was not his ugliness that tortured her, but the visceral intention that lied in side of them. Besides the blunt message that his bonds allowed, Dianna knew in the pit of her stomach that this man meant to ruin her. She cried quickly, but not without an ounce or two of hope in her face. She cussed at him through her gag, shivering under the menagerie of his twisted fingers.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>grovercjuk</strong> on <strong>21-03-2012, 00:14:02</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack Nixon<br>Location: Farmhouse outside Reedland, Utah<br>Time: Day 1, 7:25 PM&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jack smiled as the woman tried to get away, bound hand and foot where did she think she was going? He stroked her cheek enjoying the sense of power. “Oh my little one how you struggle, but do not fear we are going to have such good times. Once we are in the farmhouse and I get a dose of my crystal Meth derivative into you my sweet the only thing you are going to be wanting is to be fucked and to have some more.”<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He let his hand trail down to squeeze her breast smiling at the thought of how she would be shortly. Thanks to a rather clever chemist this derivative would give her a feeling of euphoria along with a raging desire for sex. She would crave him for his cock and for a further fix. That it would seriously screw with her health mattered not a jot to Jack. She was a hole with a heartbeat nothing more nothing less.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Letting go of her breast he peered out at the farmhouse, how much longer where the cops going to be?<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>23-03-2012, 01:03:15</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i43.tinypic.com/66fbtf.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_u"><em><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Dianna L. Emerson</span></em></span><br>The outskirts of Reedland, nearbye<br>Human<br>Day 1, Evening<br>Tagged- Jack<br><br><hr><br>'Nightmare.' Dianna couldn't even cry. 'The end of the world.' She froze in place, unsure of how this had even happened. 'Rape, forced meth.' he wasn't sure of which scared her more.<br><br>Jack seemed pretty set on his own business though, it would likely not matter if she tried to change his mind. But she would have to make an honest attempt to keep her dignity. With the gag in her mouth, now wasn't the time. As his attention drifted, she wiggled out of the mud and laid as comfortably as she could, it seemed like no matter how she positioned herself something was crushed, her shoulder, her hands, her breasts. sitting up was easily the most comfortable way to rest. She found that out quickly and only wished that she could cross her legs. Instead, they were forced together, and she had to sit on them in this position.<br><br>'Et eh Ah!' Dianna didn't want to cry, she wanted to be strong er than that, attempting to draw his attention, she tried to force out three words. 'Et eh tah!' Her eyes looked hot, focused, rearranged, almost wise.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>grovercjuk</strong> on <strong>25-03-2012, 00:54:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack Nixon<br>Location: Farmhouse outside Reedland, Utah<br>Time: Day 1, 7:25 PM&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was amusing seeing her struggle to get comfortable, like a flapping fish on a boat deck. Amusing and arousing, this was how a woman was supposed to be, helpless and at your mercy. Not calm and collected looking down their noses at you because they considered you ugly.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The thought of those snotty women brought a flash of anger and Jack reached out and pushed her over, grabbing her hair and rubbing her face in the muck. Then he pulled her back up into a sitting position and grinned at her. Not so smug now are we face covered in mud. “You are all mucky.”<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He grabbed her top and ripped part of it away, using it to roughly clean her face. The feeling he got by exercising his petty power made him hard, maybe he should get a quick fuck in now? But the cops where close and besides he wanted the meth in her first.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“If you speak above a whisper I will rip out your throat and all those cops will find is you and a pool of your blood.” He undid the gag and looked at her, “What?”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>25-03-2012, 03:25:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/JacksonHughes.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/SamanthaPickens.jpg)</div><div align="center"><strong>Name:</strong> Jackson Hughes (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br>Samantha Pickens (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br>Clark Monroe (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Farmhouse, outside of Reedland<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, 9:30 pm<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Max Jerious</div><br>It was around half past 9 by the time they wrapped up the crime scene. The sun had long since set and the glow from car headlights and the luminescence from the house were the only light for a couple miles. Other reporters had shown on scene but were not allowed the privilege that Samantha had received. She would have to thank Jackson extra that evening. She'd already gotten numerous phone calls from her bosses with compliments on a job well done. She'd been the first to get the story directly from Jackson. The others had gotten almost identical stories, but she'd been the first!<br><br>The other news anchors hadn't bothered questioning him and Jackson had been relieved. Once a story was repeated, it was usually taken as fact but there was sometimes that one reporter that wouldn't let things just be. That's what he loved about Samantha. So trusting was she, that she never once questioned his little copy cat story. Luckily he'd heard that bit of info from the county Sheriff and was able to reinforce that assessment. Clever man, this Jerious. Quick on his feet. Jackson really wished he knew what his game was. He didn't like not knowing who this man was or why he was there. He could be Renair himself for all Jackson knew.<br><br>Unfortunately the reporter that wouldn't let things be was indeed on this particular scene. Fortunately he was nothing more than a local newspaper reporter. Nothing to worry much about. But he was like a gnat, asking a whole bunch of questions. Jackson was going to have to keep an eye on this one.<br><br>The CSI unit had collected all they could for the night and the coroner and his assistant had bagged and tagged the bodies. The cameras had gotten great footage of all three body bags being wheeled from the residence and loaded in the back of the coroner's van (http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/coronersvan.jpg). Almost everyone had left for the evening by the time the off duty officers arrived. Jackson figured only two were necessary to keep the curious peeping toms away over night. After reviewing the evidence, they'd all have to be back out this way in the morning, anyhow. Jackson was going to have to run a real investigation, it's what his Lord paid him to do. He'd investigate the husband's co-workers, whether the wife was having an affair, family grudges, town criminals, the works. Eventually it would culminate with the trial and conviction of some poor sap from town.<br><br>With the guards posted, Jackson told Clark to go on home, as he was heading out right behind him. Sheriff Monroe left and the CSI boys waited patiently for Jackson in the Suburban (http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/Suburban.jpg). The only ones left visibly were the guards, Jackson, and this Jerious fellow.<br><br>Walking up to Max, the headlights of his suburban causing him to appear not more than a silhouette, Jackson spoke.<br><br>"Alright, Max, if that's really your name. What you're doing in this town is your business, but you're an unknown vampire on the crime scene of quite a notorious Red Lister," Jackson leveled his gaze on the vampire in front of him. "Your business is now mine. Please state it."<br><br><hr><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/SebastianAlexander2.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/FaithLeighton2.jpg)</div><div align="center"><strong>Name:</strong> Sebastian Alexander (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br>Faith Leighton (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Farmhouse, outside of Reedland<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, 9:30 pm<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Max Jerious, Jackson Hughes</div><br>Sebastian had been standing there on the forest's edge, acres from the farm, watching, since a little while after he'd seen the news footage. As Jackson had suspected, Sebastian's keen vampire eyes had picked out Renair's modus operandi and had come immediately to see to the handling. Faith had met him there in the forest. Her usual jests and quips to his stoic attitude were absent as even the warmth of the night couldn't chill her bones. Sebastian's aura was like ice that night and she shuddered under his gaze. Renair had been there. Committed this act. In her territory. It was a wonder Sebastian didn't already have her head. She'd been a bit lax in her duties recently. Not as thorough as she was when her Lord appointed her 100 years ago.<br><br>Faith fidgeted as a vampire never does. She was anxious. She rarely saw Sebastian this upset. Sebastian stood in that incredibly still fashion, the motionless manner attributed to the deadliest of predators. Only when Jackson and his lackeys were the only ones left, did he deign to move. Faster than the eye could process, he made his way across the acres, stopping a short distance from the vampires. Hands in his pockets, with swift confidant strides, Sebastian made his way to the pair. Faith scampered close behind him. He stood a moment, letting his natural presence be known, silent, commanding, and powerful. Jackson bowed slightly in respect and deference to his Lord.<br><br>"That will be all, Jackson," Sebastian's eyes bore into the other man. The timbre of his voice was lower than one expected. Jackson nodded to him and Faith and after a quick glance to Max, he got back in his Suburban and headed out with his team, looking slightly dejected. All that were left were the two police guards who oddly seemed not to even notice the trio. Sebastian turned to Max with a stern gaze and held out a hand, the ring finger adorned with a masculine silver ring &nbsp;(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/ring.jpg)boasting a single ruby.<br><br>"Lord Sebastian Alexander," he stated simply, waiting for the courtesy of the other vampire's introduction.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arioch</strong> on <strong>29-03-2012, 22:52:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Max Jerious (http://msg5898391)<br><strong>Location:</strong>Reedland, Utah<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, 9:30 PM<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Sebastian Alexander, Faith Leighton<br><br>Max shook the man's hand and gave a small head bow. It was quick and short, but, respectful, "A pleasure to meet you, Lord Alexander. I apologize for the circumstances that have led to our meeting. I'm sure you had other matters to attend to that have been disrupted."&nbsp; It was a respect that Max had learned centuries ago, when he was still human. Of course, it had been reinforced over that time and he executed it as best he could.&nbsp; There was a high probability that Sebastian wanted Max to kiss his ring, but, that was not something Max needed to do. A lesser Vampire may, but not him.&nbsp; He knew Lords always felt they deserved more respect than others. Of course, many of them didn't know they were watched just like every other vampire.&nbsp; Watched by vampires like Max and even Judicators.<br><br>Only a few centuries ago Max had to eliminate one such lord. The Vampire had started talking in a rebellious manner.&nbsp; This after all his years of servitude and the fortunes it had brought. And Max had to make it look messy. It had been a gruesome scene, all intended to be a warning to his followers. Some of them had to die as well. That is what happens to those that speak out and Max had obtained the position of carrying out those types of attacks, among other things.<br><br>Letting go of the hand Max looked at Faith, "We meet again." It was enough to recognize her authority, but he didn't have to do more. He was investigating and all were suspects. "There appears to be a rogue vampire in your territory, Lord Alexander. A vampire by the name of Renair." For any vampire that had been around long enough, the first name was enough to invoke fear and anger. This particular vampire had been marked for death for centuries and managed to escape each time someone got close, "As such, I am now tasked with identifying him and making sure he does not escape again. Of course, this means that my true reason for being here has taken a lesser priority. I assume that you and Faith, your Sheriff, will assist me. After all, nobody would want to get the wrong impression about your hospitality, correct?"<br><br>He didn't let either answer before he continued, "I would like a list of any vampires you believe would be willing to assist Renair in any such activities. They will be the first I must speak with. Also, any vampires that have recently come into the area, say, the last week. Even any that have been rumored, yet have not presented themselves to you, Faith."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>03-04-2012, 08:59:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i43.tinypic.com/66fbtf.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_u"><em><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Dianna L. Emerson</span></em></span><br>The outskirts of Reedland, nearbye<br>Human<br>Day 1, Evening<br>Tagged- Jack<br><br><hr><br>Her scalp burned, far after he had tugged at it. Her tongue tasted like dirt, and spitting it out was performed as gently as possible. He was trying to degrade her, and mold her out of shit. Spitting in disgust, and forfeiting so quickly was not in her blood. She leaned over her knees to empty her mouth of mud that had slipped through her gag. Her ripped dress was hanging off of her left shoulder now, unable to hold itself together after the tear. Jack had given her the opportunity to speak, and she tried not to smile, instead, she bit the inside of her bottom lip to with hold all of her facial expressions.<br><br>"In all honesty, sir." She tried not to speak. she made a nasally whisper at almost absolute zero. "I'm sure you would like me more if I wasn't loaded." she referred to the sex-drugs that he wanted to give her. "At least, you could try. I c- could pro- obably fu- fuck you without them." She hoped that her anxiety wasn't rubbing off on him as disgust. She found him repulsive, but mostly by his decisions, and not by his face. He had a youth to his ugliness that she could focus on. It made him look angry, and less sour. The abuse made her wet, it always had. 'fucking asshole.' she cursed at her father, looking down at the ground where she'd spit in the mud. It was something she couldn't control, starting at the beginning of high-school. The way that Jack had bound her, slapped her, pushed her, ripped at her clothes, and pulled at her hair. Even the mud in her eyes was erotic. As disgusted as she was, she knew she could fuck him. She could probably blow his mind.<br><br>She let herself get deep, convinced that this man would need something raw to convince him of what she was asking. Dirty talk wasn't her specialty, but life and death situations were. She whispered again, but now it was brewing in the bottom of her throat. "I like the taste of strong salty cum, and I'd scream any way you want me to scream." she giggled, and let him into the wittier side of her personality. "You gave the right girl a concussion, I'm kind of turned on already..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>grovercjuk</strong> on <strong>04-04-2012, 23:18:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack Nixon<br>Location: Farmhouse outside Reedland, Utah<br>Time: Day 1, Evening.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jack looked at her as she spoke his face blank showing nothing of his thoughts. In a lot or ways he was disappointed, he did not want a woman who wanted to be degraded. No he wanted the woman who loved her husband, the one who was beautiful and had her pick of men, the Virgin.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In short he wanted to degrade and corrupt the good women, the ones who looked down at him, the respectable ones. That is who he wanted, to see the despair in their eyes as they gave themselves to him to satisfy the chemical need.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He grabbed her mouth squeezing it between his fingers. “You want to walk with me in darkness, is that what you want? You want to be degraded, turns you on does it? How about I cut off a toe or two, will you scream for me then, I bet you will and I doubt you will be turned on then.”<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His eyes locked onto hers, “You want to be my whore? My slut?”<br>He let go of her mouth, “Then say it and then you have five minutes to convince me that you are worth more to me than a fuck and a meal that ends in your death.”<br>&nbsp;<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>05-04-2012, 19:03:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/SebastianAlexander2.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/FaithLeighton2.jpg)</div><div align="center"><strong>Name:</strong> Sebastian Alexander (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br>Faith Leighton (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Farmhouse, outside of Reedland<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, 9:30 pm<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Max Jerious</div><br>A thin diplomatic smile spread on Sebastian's face. "The pleasure is all mine," he stated. The other vampire had not kissed his ring. That told Sebastian that Max would not be easily manipulated and Sebastian respected the man more for that. It also sprouted a game, needing only water to grow. Sebastian would need to find this man's weakness, as any good ruler would do, in case the need ever arose to exploit it.<br><br>He nodded at the comment about being interrupted but waved it off as though it didn't matter. He had, in fact been interrupted. Faith had called on the emergency number smack in the middle of a meeting with a few different emissaries from various counties, there to pay their dues. Sebastian had dismissed them immediately and called Jackson.<br><br>Sebastian merely turned his head to the side, looking down, as Max recognized Faith, not turning to fully look at her. Faith stiffened as she understood Sebastian's acknowledgement that Faith had not immediately informed him of meeting the Alastor before the emergency phone call. Faith's old human habits tended to return when she was nervous, especially around Lord Alexander, and she exhaled the breath she'd been holding.<br><br>Sebastian just blinked and looked back to Max, his face stoic. The Lord listened as the Alastor spoke. Luckily he'd realized the work of Renair earlier and was not side blinded by this news. He knew well of the Vorusia that committed these crimes and had even been tasked with finding and killing him at one time. The fact that the man had eluded his grasp infuriated him. Sebastian was not accustomed to being denied anything.<br><br>Notice of Max's comment about his hospitality was given with an almost imperceptible cock of Sebastian's head. He was used to the exertion of power in the game of politics. This vampire had clearly been playing the game for quite some time. Once again, Sebastian's respect went up a notch.<br><br>"Of course, Alastor Jerious," Sebastian let slip that Faith had let him know exactly who Max was and what they were dealing with. "All of our resources will be at your disposal. Faith will begin working on that list immediately," he glanced over his shoulder and Faith nodded. "I will over see it personally," Sebastian turned back to Max. Faith closed her eyes as if praying. "You will receive a copy this night. If there's anything else we may provide, please call." And with that, Sebastian was gone. Faith left immediately behind him, terrified to keep him waiting.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Syberfang</strong> on <strong>05-04-2012, 22:35:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Lord Alan Ardington of Carindel<br>(https://encrypted-tbn2.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcS6bnRlMmSpZbVNCKNJZJoVoaW9kV2Zyhjvi3vpucx_PMQf0uks)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Country Road 923<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, night<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Richard Waldric <br><br><br><br>“Yeah thanks”&nbsp; Jonathan said as he fired up his old semi truck, and began to pull out&nbsp; of the gas station as Floyd waved him off. He shifted gears as he pulled on to Country Road 923, the large cargo trailer hitched up to the semi began to sway ever so slightly n the breeze that pushed against the semi as t sped down the road. The sun was just disappearing over the mountains, and now only his high beams lit up the long dark road.<br><br>He had been working as a transporter for 20 years now and this was his most important cargo yet. Apparently, a bunch of Archaeologist had dug up some type of buried dead king in Europe, and were transporting it to a museum in the city. They said discovery of the century, not that Jonathan really understood exactly how a rotted corpse in a sarcophagus could be so important. He did know that they were offering him a bonus to make it there on time without any damages<br>He took a bite of his doughnut and a sip of his coffee. The silent hum of the engine began to echo through his mind making him tired. He took another drink of coffee while reaching down with his right hand to turn the music on.[TV on the Radio- DLZ] The sound of the base guitar filled the cab, and the man began to sing a in a very hypnotic rhythm. Jonathan was confused on why it wasn’t on the country station where he had always left it. He reached his hand downward and began to spin the dial. The damn thing always jammed, and he couldn’t change the station. The same hypnotic voice sang in the background, as he focused his attention on fixing it. He looked up at the road, and felt the strength of the steering wheel slam him n the face as he pressed as hard as he could on the breaks. The trailer swerved to the left, then to the right. The smell of burning rubber filled the air, and the smoke flamed from the tires. Finally the semi came to a stop and Jonathan, in shock, only could sit there and try to breath. A warm drop of liquid rolled down his temple. He never saw it coming. He tried to think back to what happened to the man in the road that caused him to slam on his breaks. Had he killed someone? The song still hummed melodically in the background.<br><br>&nbsp;Jonathan opened the door and stepped out of the semi. His knee hurt to move from when he had slammed it full force into the dash. There in the middle of the dark highway was a body. The ringing in Jonathan’s ears still pained through his head. “Shit” He cursed and ran over to the man on the ground, hoping the man was still alive. Out of breath he bent down to check the man’s pulse. There was nothing. He rushed still dizzy from the trauma back to the cap to reach his radio. He picked up the radio, “There’s been an accident” He yelled through the radio. Suddenly he felt his legs go slack and he collapsed on the ground. His back felt like it was on fire. “Hello?” The woman’s voice said over the radio that dangled from the side of the cab. “Jonathan are you there?” He lay on the ground staring up at the sky. A man walking into his line of sight, his hand covered in blood. It couldn’t be, could it he thought, as he matched eyes with the man who was lying in the middle of the road. Everything faded to black.<br><br>_____________________________________________________________________<br><br>The foul taste of the air filled Ardingtons cracked lungs, breathing, though not necessary, felt like sand paper grinding against itself. It was a pain like no other, but it made him feel awake. His eyes still closed, he felt the pain of light touching his eye lids. Something he had not calculated would be a problem. He opened his mouth and released the dust trapped from within his mouth. His lips cracked and tore as he separated them from each other. He felt his eye’s struggle to open but they seemed to be sealed shut. His body stiff from buildup he tilted his head forward, feeling each bone pop and splinter as he moved. Hs head dangled side to side as t fell slump forward.<br><br>“My lord,” a voce said through muffled ears. “It is time”<br><br>Ardington not finding use through his vocal chords only let out lungs full of air struggling to let out the word. <br><br>“Yeeeesssssss” It had been almost 300 years since the followers of Lord Alan Ardington had sealed him and themselves deep within the mountain of Delaina, in Carindel. After controlling most of the known world he became tired and disappeared along with his followers. He would be nothing but a legend of the past, placed within a sarcophagus to sleep until a new age. <br>He could hear the whimpers of a man, as his servant placed someone in front of him with a thump. <br><br>“You must feed my lord.” said his servant. Ardington felt a shiver down his spine as he breathed in the life energy of another for the first time in 300 years . It warmed him and he felt everything come together as it should be. His arms reached out to touch the face of the man in front of him. Hs fingers curling around the base of the man’s neck. He began to stand to his full height. His back coming in place as he extended it upwards, bringing the man along with him every inch. He opened his eyes and saw the lifeless corpse of the man that was in front of him. The man had been drained of all his energy and now looked almost as if he had aged a 1000 years. The man that was before was now nothing but a mummified corpse. Ardngton stepped out of the sarcophagus and replaced it with the man n his hands.<br><br>“Richard” Ardington said “So good to see you” with a smile. Richard dropped to a knee and brought his fist to the center of his chest.<br><br>“My lord” <br><br>“Arise, my friend” Ardington said with a wave of his hand. Richard stood to his full height of 6’2”. Rchard was a Viking. His long blonde hair was tied into a tail at the back of his head, and had a full beard. His body rippled with muscles. <br><br>“My lord, the times have changed, you’re attire is no longer socially acceptable.” He said handing over a pair of clothes. Ardington looked at them curiously and understood what was being said. He stripped out of his robes and tossed them to Richard. The warmth of Ardington’s hands made him feel alive once again. And it felt good. Ardington finished putting on his clothes, and stepped out the back of the trailer as Richard slid the lid to the sarcophagus closed, sealing Jonathan’s body inside.<br><br>“Where am I, and why does the air taste so foul?” Ardington asked Richard as he stepped out of the trailer.<br><br>“America, my lord, the Humans have killed most of their planet in search for resources.” Richard said fixing his Jacket. Ardington looked around and saw the distant lights of a town. “Shall we introduce ourselves?” He asked rhetorically and started walking towards the lights.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>08-04-2012, 03:57:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i43.tinypic.com/66fbtf.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_u"><em><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Dianna L. Emerson</span></em></span><br>The outskirts of Reedland, nearbye<br>Human<br>Day 1, Evening<br>Tagged- Jack<br><br><hr><br>Dianna sucked her breathe inward. His comment about her toes made her squeamish, but it sounded like a bluff. She swallowed hard and creased her brow to feign horror on her face. He was out of his mind, that much was clear to her, but nothing was going to get her out of this. No one was going to come and save her, and she couldn't count on that, even if it was likely. The possibilities were endless, Jack would likely kill her. He would be raping her before tomorrow's sunrise. She wanted to cry, and her face reflected this. But, she was willing to get dirty, disposable, and degraded. She started to hate herself desperately as she started to speak. "I said, I'll scream in any way you want me to scream." She liked it. The disgust, her devastation appeared to have no end, she stared down the seedless, lifeless, tunnel of her future, now. Jack had no way of knowing, but he was lucky. Dianna was perfect for him. She had the outlasting American dream, the subservient attitude of battered housewife. She was on the road for something new. She was a slave to her own visceral emotions, and being dominated was a collar that never left her throat. <br><br>The girl had no way of comprehending his limits. He would likely discover her levels of discomfort in no time. Being treated roughly during sex was different than rape. Her naivety was enveloping. She had no idea what she was in for.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Syberfang</strong> on <strong>11-04-2012, 10:02:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Name:</strong> Lord Alan Ardington of Carindel<br>(https://encrypted-tbn2.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcS6bnRlMmSpZbVNCKNJZJoVoaW9kV2Zyhjvi3vpucx_PMQf0uks)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Country Road 923<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, night<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Richard Waldric <br><br><br>“Rodger that” Richard said into the tiny microphone in his ear. Ardington adjusted his shirt pulling it down, and pulled at his pants. <br><br>“These clothes are wrong I think” He said to Richard, “I don’t think they are supposed to be clutching my skin so tight. It’s suffocating.” He readjusted them again.<br><br>“My lord, this is the style of this era. Clothing are supposed to fit tighter, and be more pliable.” Richard responded.<br><br>“It’s not right” He said pulling at the color around his neck.<br><br>“There is a man at the local tavern who has readied a new set of credentials. People are now given numbers since birth, and to avoid suspicion we have set you up with an ID, Birth Certificate, Social Security Number, Bank Statements, Credit Cards, and a Masters Degree.” He explained as they walked towards the Black BMW hidden alongside the road, under the cover of the darkness.<br><br>“I’m not going to lie and pretend I understood any of that.” He said fixing his clothing again, the briefs that he had put on felt irritably strange. Richard laughed, a hearty laugh, as he came up to the vehicle and opened the door.<br><br>&nbsp;“Your chariot, my lord” Ardington was confused on where the horses were exactly. All of this seemed rather strange yet enticing at the same time. Richard waved his hand for him to climb in. Reluctantly he bent over and climbed into the seat of the horse less chariot. Richard closed the door and walked over to the other side, and climbed in. “A lot of things are different” He said turning the key in the ignition. It let out a silent roar.<br><br>“So it seems” He said examining the interior of the vehicle. Richard shifted into reverse and spun the vehicle around so that t faced the town.<br><br>“For instance not many go by titles anymore, it is common to use first names. To avoid suspicion, I will refrain from calling you lord. You understand, sir?” Ardington nodded. “I will now be addressing you as Doctor Ardngton, or Alan.”<br><br>“Doctor?” Ardington sad confused <br><br>“Think of it as an apothecary my lord.” <br><br>“Ah, and my order?”<br><br>“The Council of the Phoenix has preserved itself well through the ages, but most people now hardly remember the old ways, and it now has many humans in it.”<br><br>“It will need some improvements I see”<br><br>“Oh and one last thing, we had invented a way to harvest lightning in the form of Electricity about 200 or so years ago. The humans want to believe they made it but rarely do they know who is actually running things.”<br><br>“What is this Electricity?”<br><br>“Electricity is the science, engineering, technology and physical phenomena associated with the presence and flow of electric charges. Electricity gives a wide variety of well-known electrical effects, such as lightning, static electricity, electromagnetic induction and the flow of electrical current in an electrical wire. In addition, electricity permits the creation and reception of electromagnetic radiation such as radio waves. though advances in the science were not made until the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Practical applications for electricity however remained few, and it would not be until the late nineteenth century that engineers were able to put it to industrial and residential use. The rapid expansion in electrical technology at this time transformed industry and society. Electricity's extraordinary versatility as a means of providing energy means it can be put to an almost limitless set of applications which include transport, heating, lighting, communications, and computation. Electrical power is the backbone of modern industrial society, and is expected to remain so for the foreseeable future”<br><br>“Fascinating, and that explains this chariot without horses?”<br><br>“Exactly, It’s also used to create light, in the form of a bulb, much more useful than a torch or a lantern. In most cases one bulb can light an entire room.” Richard finished.<br><br>“I simply must see this” Ardington said a feeling of excitement in his throat. The vehicle came to a stop. <br><br>“You will.” He said climbing out of the vehicle, he opened the door for Ardington and they stepped out into the night. The porch light of the tavern shined like a beacon, in the darkness. They climbed the steps and stepped in through the door. The tavern was buzzing with activity. Richard made his way through the crowd to a far table, leading Ardington along. They sat down and waited for the man they were to meet.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>grovercjuk</strong> on <strong>11-04-2012, 23:16:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack Nixon<br>Location: Farmhouse outside Reedland, Utah<br>Time: Day 1, Evening.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jack studied her as she spoke and then let the silence linger, he had a talent for knowing when someone wanted to harm him. And it was not saying anything, in fact his gut feeling was that he could use this woman.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Finally he spoke, “I will be leaving this pissant place and then I will need a Judas. Can you be my Judas?” He studied her face, “Can you hang around the bus depot, chat up the country girls running away to the big city. Tell them that they can stay at your Uncles place to they get in their feet. Smile and pretend to be their friend knowing they will be turned into crack whores, selling their body for a fix.”<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He leaned forward his eyes boring into hers, “Can you do that? Degrade your soul even as you let me degrade your body.” Could she do that? Kim had done it so well, giving him a steady stream of young flesh in his bed before that nutter had cut her head off.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;His hand gently stroked her cheek, “Can you walk in darkness?”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arioch</strong> on <strong>13-04-2012, 20:05:05</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Max Jerious (http://msg5898391)<br><strong>Location:</strong>Reedland, Utah<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 2, 8:00 AM<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Clark Monroe<br><br>It was exactly 8:00 AM when Max entered the sheriff's office. Clark was just turning from filling his cup with coffee, "Cpl. Jerious, good morning."&nbsp; The man then started moving toward his office, "Grab a cup if you need it. They are below the machine. Cream and sugar as well. Real sugar, too. Not the fake stuff. If you drain the pot, make another. Janice isn't here to make you coffee."&nbsp; The last came from inside his office and said with a louder voice to carry into the main room. "Come on in when you are ready."<br><br>Max did get a cup, but made it black. Again, it was expected that police drink coffee and he wanted no additional attention his way.&nbsp; Taking the styrofoam cup into the office he sat down in the same seat as the day before, "Morning, sheriff. You didn't say last night that our appointment was changed, so, here I am."<br><br>Clark took a drink from the hot liquid as he listened. After setting the cup down he leaned back and sighed, "Horrible thing last night. I had some bad dreams about it. Not the kind of thing we are used to seeing around here." He paused and rubbed his hands upon his face, "Anyway, nice job last night. Out of my hands now and Hughes will run the examination very well. He's a good man, don't let last night make you believe otherwise."<br><br>"It didn't, sheriff." Max replied as he took a sip of his coffee. The cup stayed in his hand as he looked across the desk at the sheriff, "Headquarters is concerned about the lab out here. Seems there have been issues in the past and all, but, I'm not sure how much of that is just HQ being territorial or actual fact. I'm in no position to know better, so I trust your opinion, sheriff."&nbsp; That should buy him some points, Max thought. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>18-04-2012, 04:38:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i43.tinypic.com/66fbtf.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_u"><em><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Dianna L. Emerson</span></em></span><br>The outskirts of Reedland, nearbye<br>Human<br>Day 1, Evening<br>Tagged- Jack<br><br><hr><br>The plunging detriment of morality and sickening bile that spilled from this monsters lips had no end. Dianna was in absolute repulsion. She was sure he could see it on her, the trembling that came off of her shoulders, echoing down the hollow-feeling bones, it felt like spinning silk over the top of a fire. It inspired him to reach forward and grab at her face. He seemed to be delusional, criminal, men like this didn't survive long enough to fulfill their wishes. She knew this in the bottom of her heart that some one would stop him well before he could reach his own succulent peak. Perhaps she would be there when it happened, perhaps it would come years after her death. The hope in her heart was comforting, and it felt like she could float on top of his dark lagoon water. <br><br>"I can be what you need me to be, sir. I have no doubt in that." Her lips were firm, and it sounded like truth. Unblinking eyes found the bridge of his nose, staring hard at the face of her carnal disaster. This would come down to death if she let it get that far. If not the death of her own body, it would be his. Even the death of her ego made sense. Perhaps the death of another. she would wander through his maze of unguided rage, lust. It would be a power struggle, trying to tug her under the water, like the presence of thunder in the thick musty fog of a full night. The lightening of his aggression, the power of his will. How long could she stay on the surface. It felt like there wasn't anything left to save. Her control had been taken away from her, and in a way, Dianna realized that the lack of control had been on her agenda since Texas. She had run away from something, and it took Jack to tie her up, until then, she hadn't even understood why this journey had ever started. the freedom of chaos, the safety within absolute confusion and angst. the acceptance of death, the wallowing self-visualization of horror. She had left home to grow up, and it was right on schedule. There would be no coming back from this.<br><br>She was speechless. A grin across her face, matched with the pleasant sneer of submission was worth anything more than she could have put into words.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Narianna</strong> on <strong>20-04-2012, 17:16:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/SebastianAlexander2.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/FaithLeighton2.jpg)</div><div align="center"><strong>Name:</strong> Sebastian Alexander (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br>Faith Leighton (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=132613.msg5897467#msg5897467)<br><strong>Location:</strong> Farmhouse, outside of Reedland<br><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, late evening<br><strong>Tagged:</strong> Open</div><br>"I should have called you immediately when he showed up at my door," Faith sat next to Sebastian in the back seat of the Lincoln Town Car (http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd315/Kali_83/Towncar.jpg). After a short pause, Faith shifted uncomfortably, "What's the matter, my Lord? Alastor got your tongue?" She grinned nervously, trying to joke with him as she normally did. Sebastian, who had been looking out the window, turned his head slightly in her direction but not completely acknowledging her, staring forward. The ice pour off him. Faith gulped humanly and looked away from the unnerving image.<br><br>"The Mind Melder is here. He's slaughtered here. Here. In. <em>My</em>. Territory," Sebastian spoke slowly and calmly, enunciating each of his words.<br><br>"I-I know, Sir," Faith looked down at her hands, then back out the window. "I've been slightly short staffed, Sir. My scouts are spread too thinly. I," Faith's words were cut off shortly as Sebastian's head snapped toward her. "I know. I'm sorry. I'll make sure to restaff."<br><br>After a moment, Sebastian nodded, as if this apology was good enough to keep her head. Faith let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, as Sebastian turned back to stare out the window once more. Staring into the distance, much too far away and dark for human eyes, Sebastian spotted a parked truck. A few more feet, and Sebastian sat up in his seat. Faith noticed the change and looked toward him, brow furrowed.<br><br>"Stop," Sebastian uttered the single word, not really needing to speak. The thrall immediately pulled the car over, got out, and opened the door for him. Sebastian got out without even a glance to the doorman. Faith scrambled behind him. With a quick scan to make sure there were no prying eyes, Sebastian moved quicker than a moving car to the parked semi. There was something odd about the way it was stopped. Sebastian looked around and noted the tire marks on the ground. He sniffed and smelled burnt rubber, nodding as his theory was correct. Then he sniffed the air again. A muted smell engulfed his nose. It smelled of dust and moth balls and... human?<br><br>Walking around to the trailer, Sebastian hopped inside. There he found a rather large stone sarcophagus. He sniffed the air again to confirm that the smell was indeed coming from there. In a single deft move, he flipped the lid to the ground. Inside were some very old clothes and a mummified body. He knelt beside the man on the in the sarcophagus and wrinkled his nose in disgust. The mummified corpse was rubbery to his touch, and yet something was very familiar about it. The body smelled of a fresh kill but obviously was centuries old. However it happened to be, it was clearly supernatural and he couldn't risk a human finding it and drawing attention to his territory. He gathered the body just as the town car reached their position.<br><br>"Trunk," he whispered as he walked around to the back. The trunk immediately popped open and the thrall leapt from the car to open it fully for him. Sebastian placed the corpse in the trunk just as his phone rang.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>grovercjuk</strong> on <strong>22-04-2012, 22:11:04</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jack Nixon<br>Location: Farmhouse outside Reedland, Utah<br>Time: Day 1, Evening.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Stupid bitch Jack thought at her words but at least she knew her place. Something to earn you money and stick your dick in for pleasure and that was a woman pretty well summed up in Jack’s opinion.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He smiled, “Sure baby, you will be a good girl and now it is time for you to give me some of your honey.” He gagged her quickly and then undid her legs followed by almost savage movements stripped her from the waists downwards.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Pulling down his pants he moistures his cock with spit and then wrenched her legs apart and took her. He was totally indifferent to her as anything but a hole as he rutted on her. Then with a grunt he came and got off her. Zipping himself up he looked towards the farmhouse to see if they had left yet.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As for Dianna he gave her as much notice as a paper he had just read and tossed as being of no further interest.<br><br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Blood &amp; Magic: Reedland</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Photo</strong> on <strong>25-04-2012, 08:14:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i43.tinypic.com/66fbtf.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_u"><em><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Dianna L. Emerson</span></em></span><br>The outskirts of Reedland, nearbye<br>Human<br>Day 1, Evening<br>Tagged- Jack<br><br><hr><br>He came onto her like a rainstorm, and suddenly the small comforts that were allowed before had been washed away like dead pine needles clutching onto the cracks of the sidewalk. His forboding fuck gave her a seriously used feeling, the entirety of Dianna's body felt cold. He'd sent a cool shudder through her bones, and the strangest feeling overcame her. She just wanted more. She was upset with his quick release. <br><br>His insight was a ruin in the process of degradation. He had hollowed her out, filled her with poison, and overwhelmed the very rhythm of her heart. the squishing tenderness between her legs oozed with unwelcome fluid. She quivered in the mud, caked in it.<br><br>She wanted to speak, she wanted to test his anger, his attention. She wanted to see what would cause him to lose his cool. But the gag in her mouth was insurmountable. So she squirmed in the mud for as long as he allowed her to. She awaited the ropes that would surely hold her in the house. At least, then, his negligence would feel like safety. 
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>