long may she reign

Carmilla Frost. 985. Original Vampire.

[carmillafrost]

damienxhunt:

Damien was quick to receive her proffered hand and the vampire reverently pressed his lips against her cold hand. The original was worthy of being worshipped, one that he was proud to call his queen though their introduction was done much later; his sire had been hesitant to talk of her and tales of ruthlessness that were meant to deter him from the path of blood lust only served to fuel his desires to meet the woman. He often wondered what made his God-fearing sire be chosen by the vampiress and he chalked it up to some cruel joke to test the former priest’s faith. Where Brand lacked, he compensated, spilling blood in his wake for the dark-haired immortal.

“Carmilla Frost,“ he nodded, letting go of her hand, “the same reason you’re here in town,“ Damien answered with a wry smile, “For the scenery and the food.“

Carmilla chuckled. The food was definitely unique. She had sniffed out a few faeries and pondered adding them to her collection but she figured that task could be done after she whipped all the vampires into shape (literally if necessary). Besides, it seems like the vampires here were enjoying them and she would hate to upset her people by stealing them all for herself. 

Nevertheless, finding out Damien was here was a pleasant surprise. Maybe the task of cleaning up wouldn’t be as hard as she had imagined? “The only sight I’m interested in is Helena Hastings,” she confessed. The original alpha was the only reason Carmilla felt compelled to live in this boring town. She was curious to see what Helena saw in it, and if nothing else, she was morbidly excited at the prospect of being so close to death. After living for nearly a thousand years, sometimes the unknown was the only form of excitement she could get.

“Have you heard much about her pack? I assume you’ve lived here for longer than I.”

[carmillafrost]

@damienxhunt

“Damien, Damien, Damien,” Carmilla greeted, her happy sing-song voice in play. It had been a while since they had crossed paths and Carmilla was surprised to see the vampire around. Ashbourne was a rather small and uninteresting town so Carmilla always wondered what brought in the more interesting people she knew. If she remembered correctly, Damien was one of the more fun vampires, hedonistic in the same way she was, except Carmilla had no heart whatsoever. Damien was a close second but he was rather renowned for all the hearts he would steal (both literally and figuratively) showing that he probably had one deep, deep down.

She held out her hand for the rather handsome vampire to kiss, clearly expecting his chivalry to be in place. It may have been the 21st century but Carmilla was still a Queen and she knew that he remembered that. Carmilla had a reputation after all, and she’d hate to think he thought she had changed over the centuries. Any change for the better would require twice the amount of work to undo. 

“What brings you to this quaint town?”

[magdalenakaminski-blog]

consternation;

[carmillafrost]

magdalenakaminski:

The voice was a lot sweeter than she had imagined. Magdalena clasped the vampire’s hand in her own, glancing up at her features and likening her beauty to the lily of the valley. Exquisite, and deadly. This was the woman responsible for their kind, a poet’s mind drew her to think that she was holding hands with a god. “Hello Carmilla,” the vampiress said, her own voice mocking crushed velvet.

“I’m Magdalena.” She released her hand, stepping back now to get another glimpse of the painting. “What made you decide to show this?” It felt like an easy question, she indicated the traumatic work with the slightest gesture, off playing the cycling of thoughts in her head with a coolness. “It’s beautiful; but traumatic.”

Carmilla looked up at the painting, allowing herself to recall what it was. In her centuries of unending life, she had amassed a huge collection so sometimes it was hard to tell them apart. It wasn’t that she was a fan of art, per se, she couldn’t tell which strokes the artists used or tell any of the styles apart- she just liked lining her walls with their emotions. Carmilla wasn’t capable of feeling them herself so it became a morbid fascination to milk in other’s. Their sorrow, fear, sadness, joy... All things a psychologist may say Carmilla wished to feel for herself, but if making her a vampire didn’t fill in the emotions that her beating heart had always been missing, nothing would.

This one was a newer one, however. Locally made. “I collect a piece from each town I settle in. It would be a shame not to share it with the people who understand it better than I.” Her eyes drifted down to the title, Heartbeat, an ironic title for a town who’s inhabitants often didn’t have one, whether metaphorically or not. “What do you see in it?” she asked, curious to understand the woman before her. She had an elegance that told Carmilla she had seen much more than most of the fledglings that Carmilla had had the displeasure of running in to. 

[carmillafrost]

averyxlostsoul:

The feeling of her fingers against her skin was unappealing. Avery never had an issue with close contact before but for obvious reasons Carmilla was different. Her hand automatically reached to remove her touch, but she stopped the aggressive decision before her wrist even lifted from the bar top. “Better.” She wouldn’t mention anything she didn’t need too, but hopefully enough details to keep the original vampire happy. Hopefully the vervain Malachi had given her would protect her for now. “I’m fed and happy. That’s what’s important, right?”

“Not really,” Carmilla bluntly replied. She wasn’t the one for lies. “What’s important is my amusement.” All Avery was to her was a fun project, someone she could play around with until the next fun thing came along. The girl could be dead right now and Carmilla probably wouldn’t have given her a passing thought. It was cruel and blunt but completely true. “Has anyone ever taught you how to get rid of a body?” she suddenly asked. Considering the girl didn’t seem to have a sire, she wondered how the girl was getting by if she was truly doing what Carmilla wanted her to. 

[carmillafrost]

a-painintheneck:

There was something about that voice that made his skin crawl. It wasn’t sweet and it wasn’t sour, just an aggravating combination of both. Malachi knew Carmilla just by the reputation that followed her and by the brief mentions that came from Henryk stories of his past. It was enough to make anyone with enough sense of self preservation to act cautious around the beast in human form. He ignored her first comment because it was not something that needed an answer. Somehow he was not sure if the original was talking to him or at him but it was a little annoying. It was the second statement that made him react and get just a little defensive. Even the baby was feeling the bad energy that the vampiress was projecting. ❝How ruthless of you.❞ Of course, there was more sarcasm in his tone than he had originally intended. ❝She’s so small. Hardly snack material.❞

Carmilla chuckled. “Well, it was either that or leave her here to starve and die all on her lonesome. Some may agree it would be better just to let me euthanize the poor thing. Besides, why let such untainted blood go to waste?”

She casually strolled up to the two of them, tilting her head to the side to see the baby better. “I will never understand what people see in these tiny creatures. So useless.” She reached forward and was about to touch the baby when the girl, who apparently had great self-preservation instincts began to wail again. 

Carmilla rolled her eyes and withdrew her hand. “So, who are you?” she asked, looking up at the man who seemed very on-edge (though she couldn’t blame him). 

[carmillafrost]

lorenzode-santis:

He plucks his gaze away from the bottom of his wine glass, quickly pausing. Snow white skin, distinct porcelain blue eyes, and a mystical aura of intimidation – Carmilla Frost. Her reputation preceded her, spoken by supernaturals and humans like throughout the centuries. Every corner of the world knew of the illustrious Frost’s, the original family. Just as many knew of the woman’s lethal reputation. He tightens his lip, knowing the capabilities she held. Although righteous and quick to condemn, Lorenzo was no fool; the Frost’s were as close to an omnipresent God as any of them. Although they were more Lucifer than Jesus. Never the less, he drops his hand with an apologetic sigh. “My apologies, Miss Frost.”

Carmilla smirked, pleased to see the man respond as he did. She always appreciated when her name was enough to trigger fear in people. It was such a pain to have to prove her point, especially with younger cocky vampires. This man didn’t seem young, however. “Tell me, Father, what brings you to an establishment like this? Hardly a place someone as holy as you should be,” she teased, nodding at his drink. She’s definitely met priest who were less than the moral standard required of them, but she couldn’t say she had ever met a vampire priest. At least one that didn’t use his position of power for very unholy things. 

[magdalenakaminski-blog]

consternation;

@carmillafrost

The title of the collection had intrigued Magdalena enough to venture back into the gallery, but it was the subject matter of the vast canvases and abstract installations that filled the space that kept her there. The vampire had been drawn with a certain awe to a piece titled Heartbeat, a garish mess of red acrylic and deep hues that she suspected were meant to represent the dark of the Ashbourne forests. White, the hue of a severed bone, slashed through the work, making her eye travel to the name plate. “The artist depicts from his own nightmares and experiences.” 

A swish of a long skirt drew dark eyes away from the work, she felt giddy from it’s gravity– leaning back to try and discern who was in the room with her. “Hello?” Lena called, stepping away now to find the woman, “I was wondering if you knew who I could talk with about purchasing.”

[carmillafrost]

Carmilla turned around, surprised to see someone at her gallery. If she were being completely honest, it was more of a museum of her personal collection than an actual gallery meant to make a profit. Money meant very little to someone who always got what they wanted. “You can talk to me,” she suggested, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “I own this place.” 

It wasn’t like Carmilla to entertain patrons but this girl was a vampire and she was always up for meeting family, especially the women. The reasons behind how most men change were always rather obvious and boring, but the women always had a story. They existed for a reason. “Carmilla Frost,” she introduced, holding out her hand. 

[carmillafrost]

averyxlostsoul:

It was too late that she recognized the dark hair that cascaded down her company’s shoulders and the voice that sent shutters down the young fledglings spine. “I’d rather not imagine that scene.” Despite her better judgement she downed the rest of her drink. The irony of feeling better only to run into the woman who caused her misery in the first place. “Hello.” Devil. 

Carmilla couldn’t help the smirk that graced her lips the moment Avery realized exactly who was sitting beside her. She lived off of the fear that would simply radiate off of people after having a mere single encounter with her. “You look a lot better today.” She reached out and grabbed Avery’s jaw, turning her head to the side. “Cheeks much more flushed, less dead,” she explained before letting go. Carmilla didn’t care much for personal autonomy and space. Avery was hers to play with and she had every intention of letting the youngling know. “Now tell me, how’s your diet been? I don’t lie. You know I have ways of getting the truth out, some a lot more unpleasant than others.” 

[a-painintheneck]

It was midnight, and Malachi found himself walking from his house to Pandemonium when he heard something …. peculiar. He followed what sounded like whimpering and soft crying. Right there, on one of the abandoned alleys in between bars he found the source of the noise. A baby sitting on a blanket. By the pink getup, the vampire concluded that the baby was a girl and as he looked around the area he noticed that there was no one around to take responsibility for her. He turned, taking a few steps away before turning back around and crouching before her. ❝ Hey there. ❞ He spoke, as if the little infant could possibly understand what he was saying. Malachi grabbed her, lifting her up from her blanket and held her in his arms. ❝ How did you end up in here? ❞

[carmillafrost]

“Oh thank god, you made it stop,” Carmilla stated, looking away from her fingers after deciding that they needed a nice manicure. She had been wandering the streets, taking in the lovely sounds of night time debauchery when an annoying little squeal hit her ears. She found the little creature lying there and briefly considered taking it to Violet, because God knows her sister would be so upset to find out she had done anything else, but the moment she got close, the annoying thing began to wail so she decided not to touch it. Frankly, she wasn’t sure if she wouldn’t snap the thing’s back by accident. “I was two seconds away from making it my first snack tonight.”

[lorenzode-santis]

“Most confessions do not take place in a bar.” Lorenzo De Santis reminds the newcomer. The load in for Thanksgiving Weekend in the sleepy town of Nova Scotia made for two distinct personas; those with families who spent the weekend slaving away on a dry turkey, or lonely drunkards plaguing the bar. And while Lorenzo was a family man through and through, the Italian priest took a detour from his thanksgiving festivities for a quiet drink. A drink he often took in silence, as he remembered each of his ex-wives fondly. Throughout the centuries, Lorenzo made a habit of celebrating human traditions for the sake of his wives and his soul. Long after they’ve passed, he remembers them fondly with a tip of his drink. Just as he’s about to nip into his Riesling, the rumblings of the person beside him catch his ear. “If you’d like to give confession, you’re more than welcome to book an appointment next Tuesday.” After extending his domineering glance, he finally relents with a softened brow. “Buck up, it’s Thanksgiving.” Lorenzo mutters with a pat to their back.

[carmillafrost]

“Sometimes I want to play dodgeball with those bottles,” Carmilla stated, pointing at the colourful bottles of liqueur that lined the shelves of every bar. She thought she would share a fun story to the vampire next to her but apparently the man, with a quick glance at his collar, was a priest so he took it the wrong way. She was almost offended that he thought she needed to unload her sins on some pathetic being who worshipped an imaginary force in the sky. When he pat her back, she turned to him and titled her head to the side. “You touch me again and I’ll rip that hand right from it’s socket, Father” she warned, her voice coming out morbidly pleasant. 

[carmillafrost]

Carmilla is the OG badass vampire (literally though being one of the actual Originals) and I love her a lot. I just want to say that if there was ever someone I could pinpoint as Flor's idol, it's actually Carmilla through and through.

Carmilla is just scoffing while staring at her nails going, “Of course.”

I, however, am *-*

Thank you, bb!~

[carmillafrost]

i'd give up my first born just to have Carmilla murder me. Anne fangirls. You win at rp

LMAO! I hereby announce Anne as the Carmilla Fan Club President. 

Thank you, love!

[carmillafrost]

Man, I LOVE Carmilla. She's the big bad Frost I've been waiting for and the babe does not disappoint. I wish Seth was around to pester her more but maybe there's hope in the future for her and Clary. Keep being awesome!!!

Is this your way of offering Clary as a sacrifice? :P 100% would not recommend.

Thank you, lovely <3

[carmillafrost]

I freaking live for how evil and how Carmilla is all about compulsion. True Queen!!

All hail the Queen. 

[carmillafrost]

[carmillafrost]

xremyisms:

Never underestimate an original. A very essential rule, but her close friendships with Gwen and Violet had certainly lessened her concern. So much so she had made the blatant mistake of thinking all was well when Carmilla wanted to talk. The hard hit from the cue stick meeting her face left a sting, an easily healed bruise having rose upon pale skin. it made her wince, but a beat later and she was stuck up against the pool table and on the other end of the weapon. No better than the situation with the hunter either. “I got the point.” Malachi could try and tear her heart out all he wanted, or even the here and there hunter encounter’s, but it wasn’t as extreme as the current. Anything easily used to put her down in a second flat was to be worried over. “Your sister’s are safe,” Remy reminded. “Now like I asked, have I done anything wrong?” She was careful this time, 

Carmilla froze only to burst into laughter a few seconds later, releasing her grip on the girl and tossing the stick into the wall. “Is that a joke?” she managed to wheeze out in between laughs. “If I thought you could hurt them, I would have killed you already. Are my sisters so pathetic that a newborn fledgling like you thinks you have even the slightest chance of hurting them?” Honestly, that statement was hilarious because the girl was overestimating herself and it was so incredibly sad that her sisters commanded no respect whatsoever. Carmilla clearly had some vampires she needed to whip into shape. “You’re a vampire in a town filled with powerful supernatural creatures. You don’t need to do anything wrong to have your life threatened, sweetie.”

[carmillafrost]

xremyisms:

“Now why wouldn’t she be? Last I checked I hadn’t broken any rules. Gwen and  Violet are good friends of mine.” She made the confession as she wiped bloody hands on her jeans, not one to care all too much. It would wash out for the most part later.  “I’ve heard enough vague threats to not be all too bothered anymore. My sire actually makes worse than that, what do you know?” Lifting her glass from the pool tables edge, she held it up in indication of what she was meaning. “Want one?”

Carmilla frowned. That was the second time in two days that someone was unimpressed with her threats. Was she losing her touch? It couldn’t be that... could it? Too caught up in her mind, she completely ignored the girl’s offer. She couldn’t have company that didn’t fear her. That wasn’t fun. “I guess I have to up my game.” She shrugged before reaching for a cue stick. She smashed it against Remy’s face to break it before trapping her against the table and pressing the broken wooden stick against her heart. “Scared yet?” she asked, her tone sickeningly sweet as the stick began to draw blood.