The Sheriff of Area 5

The Viking Vampire. The Louisiana Sheriff. Eric Northman. The Sire of Pam. The prodigy of Godric. True Blood Roleplay.

[louisanasheriff]

"No. Of Course not."

"I'm a thousand year old 20 year old with a lust for life."

[little-miss-buffy]

"Isn't a 'lust for life' pretty much a requirement for a vampire?"

[louisanasheriff]

"Well some vampires don't have that."

[louisanasheriff]

@lilahemorgan

"...You know, you should state your business and do it promptly before my eyes wander at the many women in my vicinity."

[louisanasheriff]

"The fact you'd ask me for anything is appalling. The last person that asked things of me got murdered by me. That should be an indicator in how well I take to requests."

"Speak words quickly before I become bored."

[itmeanspeace]

"The fact that you'd expect me to just give you the knife is conceited." She shot back with zero hesitation and a shrug. "We live in a world of give and take. Trading is easier for everyone. And really, why complicate things with murder? It's much easier to just give me the apartment I'm going to ask for. I don't even want it for year round. Just when I'm in town."

[louisanasheriff]

"You expect me to give you anything for a trinket?

"I don't know if you know this but vampires are not in fact use to making trades for things. We take what we want and give very little in return. So unless you can give me a good reason why I shouldn't spill your blood with the knife?"

[louisanasheriff]

Strange. She could just claim she was independent one moment and then come around a second time and tell him that she wanted to engage in debauchery with him. That she wanted him to rule over her in a more obscene way than she had ever felt. It was a quickened motion that had him tearing at her dress, leaving it to tatters and knowing she would very well proclaim that he was primal for it.

"You want me to take you?" It's soft but his fingers are exploring her body, exploring every exposed part of her now that he had shred that sundress away. He was quiet, contemplative as he stole another kiss and looked as though he might succumb to the touch himself. She was forbidden fruit and he was Adam.

His hand travels to trail to her hips, tugging her against him and bringing his neck to crane around hers and bite against exposed flesh with his fangs.

"You going to be good for me, Stackhouse?"

[taleswrittenmoving]

"Eric!" Sookie gasps when he tears her dress to shreds like a brute. "You animal! You're buying me a new dress!" Would it have killed him to take it off normally?

Though she can't deny the effect the action has on her, how wet it makes her as she rubs her thighs together in a futile attempt in some kind of relief.

Her hands move to press against his chest as soon as he is yanking her closer, her fingers trailing downwards and downwards but she doesn't touch him yet.

Instead, her neck arches and her lips part in a soft moan as he teases her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "For now." She settles on saying in a seductive purr.

[louisanasheriff]

"Or I could merely watch you go around naked. I like entertaining that idea better," he smirks and there's a certain amount of smugness to his look that tells he's looking for a little rise out of her. "You're going to do as I say then."

He looks at her, his head tilted with a coy knowing look. "After all, you want me to be in control, you should be willing to play the part of the obedient girl."

He touches her skin, trailing from her neck down to her breasts and toying with the nipples to give it a little squeeze and tug. "If you want, I could make you mine."

[louisanasheriff]

"Well yes it is. I mean he had to have kids to have you eventually be a spawn of his kids."

[little-miss-buffy]

".....you've been a twelve-year-old for the past thousand years, haven't you?"

[louisanasheriff]

"No. Of Course not."

"I'm a thousand year old 20 year old with a lust for life."

[louisanasheriff]

"You're going to keep asking me for this," he motioned downward with his eyes, making sure Jason knew that he would stop if he didn't beg for his touch. Eric wanted Jason to question himself later, whether he truly enjoyed himself or was just forced into it. But then, why would he want that? Well, he wanted the conflict in Jason's mind.

He watched him buckle and bend at his touch and lusting for him further. Eric knew that he would enjoy himself. Jason had been a fang killer, he had known of his history. There was a trail of his activity prior. Now, though, now he was enjoying drinking from him like a juice box.

Stroking the man, he kept his activity on sucking his blood. His free hand popping his own pants open. They fell away quickly and it was obvious that Eric was well endowed. He was a Proud Viking and he had reason for it.

"You're going to love this. You're going to ask me to take you under...and take you fully and completely. To make you mine. You're going to ask or I'll take it all away."

[taleswrittenmoving]

Fuck. Is this how easy it was for Sookie to fall under Eric's spell? Just a few touches and he's melting and Jason curses himself for it. He should not be wanting any of this from Eric, he's not even sure he's into men, but clearly his body does not care what his mind has to say.

Jason clings to Eric, fingers fisted into his shirt, because he feels like if he doesn't, the bite might make his legs give out. The loss of blood isn't too bad but the pleasure is extreme.

When Jason hears the unbuttoning of pants, Jason looks down, breath hitching in his throat as he does so at the sight of Eric. Damn, now he can see why Sookie is so into fucking the vampire.

Eh, what?

Jason tries to push those thoughts from his mind but with the steady stroking, it's hard. His hips rock against that hand, chasing the pleasure that leaves him gasping and panting.

"Fuck. Take me. Do whatever you want to me just do something - please." How pathetic he feels like he sounds, how humiliating it is to say please to Eric fucking Northman of all people but Jason doesn't want any of it to stop.

[louisanasheriff]

Eric loved that he could get Jason Fucking Stackhouse the vampire hater of Bon Temp to fall under his hand. He took to holding him hostage under his touch. Stroking him faster, knowing he could go so fast that the other would be overwhelmed by the pleasure. He sinks down into his neck, sucking up the blood like Jason was his own personal juicebox.

"Look, that's what I want to hear," he peels away his own pants in a moment and he's lining him up against him...rubbing up against him to get the satisfaction of his own personal rise. He turns to look Jason in the eyes.

"You report to me now, Stackhouse. You belong to me." He whispers the words into his ear, and licks up his neck before slamming himself inside of the other with no preparation before hand. He wanted it to be a mix of pleasure and pain.

"You're mine, Jason."

[grimverse]

We eat the rich tonight.

The words spark like flint inside of her. Pam’s blue eyes widen first in surprise, then blossom into something wicked—delight, pure and raw. Her lips part in a grin that stretches slow and wide, revealing the gleam of her new fangs, aching now with fresh, terrible hunger. The thought of it—of sinking her teeth into the throat of the kind of man who once bought her hours—fills her with a giddy, feral joy.

A pale, dirt-streaked hand floats upward, almost of its own volition, and comes to rest against Eric’s chest. She gazes up at him. Desire, devotion, reverence—emotions she would scoff at if she could see them in herself, but now they flow through her freely, unchecked. ❛ Oh, Mr. Northman, you sure do know the way to a workin’ girl’s heart. ❜ she drawls, her voice low, husky, sin incarnate, ❛ I just knew I was gonna like bein’ yours. ❜ The words tumble from her lips, smooth and thick like honey, her accent lingering heavy over every syllable. Her half-lidded gaze devours him with new eyes, hungry not just for blood now, but for the life—the afterlife—he has gifted her.

When he begins to explain, she straightens a little, reluctantly peeling her hand from his arm. She listens, attentive and eager, a mischievous smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. ❛ It makes sense, ❜ she muses aloud, tipping her head. ❛ But you’d be surprised all the things a gal like me can do in a good pair a’ heels. ❜ The smirk blooms fully across her lips, and with a wicked glint in her eye, she bolts.

In a blink, she finds herself a hundred feet away, arms flailing slightly as she skids to an abrupt halt. She teeters, almost falling, but some new instinct snaps her upright. A sharp, delighted laugh bursts from her chest, wild and echoing through the darkness. She whirls around, seeing him—distant now—and without thinking, she runs back, faster, more reckless. Pam barrels into him, small and fierce, smacking into the immovable wall of his body. His strength steadies her, holds her upright, and she laughs again, softer this time—a trembling, almost giddy sound that bubbles up from somewhere deep and newborn inside her.

She clings to him for a moment longer than necessary, ❛ You’re filthy, ❜ she breathes, pulling back just enough to look up at him through dark lashes, a crooked smile playing on her plump lips. ❛ I’m filthy. ❜ Her gaze drops to herself, the ruined silk of her robe clinging to her body, stained with blood and dirt. ❛ There’s a lake not far from here, ❜ she murmurs, voice turning sly again, sparkling with mischief. ❛ It’s freezin’ this time of year…❜ She tips her chin up to him, daring. ❛ But somethin’ tells me that won’t be a problem for either of us. ❜

[louisanasheriff]

He had made a comedian. He had made a hardened, cynical comedian. The smirk that creased his features, was showing off his suddenly popped fangs. "There's an eternity of gaining the wealth of our victims waiting for us," he said as though he was whispering a poem to her that was romantic and something that might woo her.

Eric stood where he was as she raced around the area, speeding off and running back to him almost like a yoyo. Baby vampires, he mused to himself. But there's something about this one. He knew she was going to grow strong and venomous. She was going to be the model of what should lurk in the night. He found pride burst through his chest as she spoke, as she came back to him admitting she was capable of more than he knew in a pair of heels. A busty laughter brewed in his chest and the gleam of interest lurked in the man's eyes.

"You will know what it is like to be mine within the fort night," he brought his hand to hers as it rested against his chest. He found himself thinking to himself that this brewing sense of pride and admiration for what was made must have been what Godric had felt when he had created him. When he had taken the last Viking and brought him an afterlife.

"Better to eat filthy then bathe in the lake then get clean to bathe in red," he told her with a certain mischief in his voice. It was as though he was playing around. But there was a certain amount of sense to already being dirty and getting filthier despite his sensibilities.

"Tell me, do you think you can go filthy or do we have to clean ourselves twice?" He was teasing of course but he knew she was a woman of appearances. That was what it was to be a woman of the night. To be in the whore house and be a working woman of the century.

"You will know forever what it is like to be daughter, mother, sister, and more in one breath. To know what it is like to be lover. It is a bond that is unbreakable. You cannot define it. You will be mine for eternity. You will do as I say when I say it because I command it but I will not use this lightly."

[grimverse]

The idea of it—draining the rich, bathing in blood, robbing men in tailored coats and silk cravats—makes Pam’s newly still heart throb with wicked delight. What a perfect eternity that sounds like. Not servitude, not survival—but indulgence. Pleasure. Power. Her smile is slow and serpentine.

When his hand settles over her own on his chest, it feels like being claimed. Electricity skitters up her arm, pulsing through her nerves, lighting her up from fingertip to spine. It’s like every molecule of him is pulling into her, binding itself into her marrow until she isn’t just with him—she is his. Body, blood, bone.

She tilts her head slightly at his question about bathing, pale brows lifting with exaggerated thoughtfulness. It’s true—she’s always prided herself on appearance, on poise. Even in the worst hours of her life, she never let herself look like anything but the finest thing money could touch. Her mother had taught her that much, back when corsets were tighter than morals. But now? Now her hunger coils low, a beast pacing behind her ribs, and her fangs throb in time with it. Her mouth waters. Her thoughts blur. She imagines the first taste—hot, thick, divine—and suddenly being clean seems irrelevant, laughable even.

She presses in a little closer, voice dropping to something smoky and sinful. ❛ Well, I suppose there’s no point scrubbin’ up pretty just to get soaked in someone’s jugular, ❜ she purrs, her tone drenched in amusement. ❛ May as well stay filthy ’til the job’s done. ❜

The moment he speaks of their bond, she listens like it’s gospel. Daughter. Mother. Sister. Lover. There is a reverence in her that she’s never felt before. Not for gods, not for men. Not for anyone. But for him, she would bow. Not because he commands it. Because she wants to. ❛ I would obey your every word without you needin’ to command it, Mr. Northman, ❜ she says, barely above a whisper, her eyes never leaving his. ❛ This I promise you. ❜

[louisanasheriff]

There's something in his chest. He swears if he didn't know it was dead, he would swear he felt heart beat. Something about the way that she would just devote herself to him left him feeling painfully like a human. He hid it well though, tucking his hand into his pocket.

"Sensible and fashionable," he remarks, letting a hum resonate from deep in his throat. After all, he didn't want to comment on her devotion or obedience. He didn't want to appear sentimental. He was not a vampire of sentiment. That was long gone.

"I trust you can keep up," he bolts in that moment, leading the way with laughter echoing in the wind. He was leading her into the populated city life. The London city atmosphere, with the well to do. He had promised her that she could eat her weight in the wealthy and garner their wealth.

Wealth was of no consequence to him. He was lethal and deadly. He could own anything he wanted. Stopping he watched a horse drawn carriage enter the scenery and he looked to her with a raised brow. "If you're so inclined, have your first kill."

[grimverse]

She runs. She runs like she’s never run before—because she hasn’t. Her bare feet barely kiss the earth as she follows him, a streak of silk and ravenous joy tearing through the dark, laughing like sin in the wind. She keeps pace without thinking, her body humming with new instinct, new power, new purpose. She would follow him into hell. No—especially into hell.

When he stops, so does she—almost. Pam stumbles, the momentum of her delight carrying her forward until she bumps lightly against the back of his shoulder. Her fingers catch his arm to steady herself, and a soft giggle slips from her lips, girlish and unhinged all at once. It’s only when her laughter fades that she sees what he’s paused for. The carriage.

Elegant, dark as sin and trimmed in silver. Even the horse looks good enough to eat. But it’s the man who draws her eye—opulently dressed, alone, unaware. Vulnerable. Pam’s fangs tingle at the sight of him, and the hunger twists low in her belly like a serpent uncoiling. Her breath hitches, not from fear, but anticipation. Excitement. And then Eric offers the man to her as if he is his to offer—hers—and something breaks loose inside her. She doesn’t thank him. She doesn’t have to. Her eyes flick up to meet his, full of gleaming mischief and dark gratitude. Then she turns toward the man and the hunt is on.

The branches barely rustle as she lunges. She is through the brush and across the path before the man even notices her. When he does, his scream pierces the night, but he only gets one note out before she’s on him. Her body slams into his, knocking him back into the velvet-lined carriage, and then her mouth finds his neck. The moment her fangs sink in, the world shatters. Holy fuckin’ shit.

The taste is indescribable—heat, copper, ecstasy. It’s sweet and brutal, like lightning on the tongue. Her body arches, her nails digging into his flesh as she drinks, drinks, drinks. Moans escape her lips unbidden, muffled against the wet warmth of his throat. It’s more than blood. Power. Possession. She is not just feeding. She is becoming. The man spasms once beneath her, then falls limp—a broken doll in a rich man’s coat. Pam doesn’t care. Her mouth and chin are stained red, her eyes half-lidded in pleasure. She raises her head, tongue tracing the corner of her mouth, chasing the last taste of it, of him.

The scent of death clings to her like perfume. Her silk gown is soaked through with blood. She has never felt so beautiful. She turns slowly and looks back at Eric. She smiles—not the soft kind, not girlish or flirtatious—but a predator’s smile. Sharp. Sure. Sovereign. ❛ This is gonna be so fuckin’ fun. ❜

[louisanasheriff]

Eric watched as his prodigy took to her first meal. He watched the fervor of which she took to her victim. He remembered his first kill under Godric and how quickly he took to the blood. He was a Viking dying on his pyre until he was given the true death and he drank the blood of his enemies. All across the globe, taking the blood of those that opposed him and Godric.

He was here with her now, Victorian London. Making a progeny of his own that would make Godric proud that he had finally passed on the gift of eternal night or at least he looked in his own way to think it. Truthfully Godric was a powerful vampire and had made his way across the world separate from Eric.

"You do not know the half of it. You will never grow old. You will never die. You have received the true death and nothing but the sun or a stake will keep you from ruling the world as your personal palace," he looked to her knowingly smiling in return. His look an exchange of hers. A predator acknowledging another.

"I have taken you into the night and you have accepted it's gifts," he looked to the blood on her lips and stole a kiss all at once, speeding to her and tasting the blood on her lips. "Delicious."

[louisanasheriff]

"Well yes, you're far older than I am if it serves correct after all, I'm a mere thousand while you've probably been fucking and fighting for older a million years," he teased, looking at him with a little pride in himself. "I bet you have many progenies."

[therelentless]

"I... well..." Maybe he was getting him confused, or maybe he had heard mostly rumors that weren't true. "Between you and I, I really don't like turning humans into vampires really. Baby vampire are too annoying. I also wouldn't say that I have been fighting for millions of years or even a thousands of years, but 750 years would be about right. I'm not that old, not that young either.... but maybe I am compared to you? wait, who are you again?" It seemed like the other knew him by name, but Nandor couldn't put a name to the face of the vampire standing before him.

[louisanasheriff]

"I have one progeny, and I happen to find my non-beating heart twitch for her. But yes, in general baby vampires are annoying. I am Eric Northman, Sheriff of Louisiana's district five. I have been around a thousand years and I'm not sure I would turn anyone in particular at this current time."

"Though claiming humans is another story."

[taintedbloodlines]

( @louisanasheriff liked for a starter from Klaus Mikaelson )

"I understand that you are the owner of..." He looked around at the bar, its gaudy appearance and scantily clad women. "...this fine establishment. I thought it was time we meet. I am Klaus Mikaelson."

[louisanasheriff]

"I simply indulge in people's sins," he raised his hand indicating the people gawking at the women. "I'm Eric Northman, Sheriff of District Five of Louisiana. And this fine establishment is Fangtasia."

[louisanasheriff]

Will be on hiatus until further notice. Father is in the icu.

[louisanasheriff]

( @surviiivorus )

“ you.

even

though you’d look very hot

with blood on your lips. “

"I hardly think you should be complimenting my appearance without knowing the interior."

[louisanasheriff]

( @surviiivorus )

“ nah, you are too broody for things

like that. “

"Broody, who you calling broody?"

[louisanasheriff]

@therelentless

"It's not everyday that you find yourself in a situation of fanning as though you were a mere fan and not a thousand year old vampire."

[therelentless]

After hearing this, Nandor's first reaction was to look around him to make sure the other was actually talking to him. -- With an index finger and quite an awkward smile, he pointed at himself. "Wait... you have heard about me?" He liked him already.

[louisanasheriff]

"Well yes, you're far older than I am if it serves correct after all, I'm a mere thousand while you've probably been fucking and fighting for older a million years," he teased, looking at him with a little pride in himself. "I bet you have many progenies."

[louisanasheriff]

"I mean your grandfather had to have fucked to have you in the world?"

"Probably fucked a lot."

[little-miss-buffy]

".....your brain isn't even connected to your mouth, is it?"

[louisanasheriff]

"Well yes it is. I mean he had to have kids to have you eventually be a spawn of his kids."

[theinboxmemebook]

My muse is stressed/panicking! How does your muse relax mine?

[theinboxmemebook]

Tell me what trait you think my muse is most notorious for?

[theinboxmemebook]

My muse has fallen into an uncontrollable insanity! Have your muse send in “Hey...” to see what happens!