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Today's Document
One Nice Bug Per Day
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@memori662
Hii! I'm Memori (she/her), someone with too many hobbies and more-often-than-not, related to OCs.
✦ ⠂⠂୨୧ Viewer Discretion Advised!!
I post OC content and may speak / mention topics that are triggering to some. Trauma, addictions, gore, abuse, etc.
Unfinished snippet... Except that YOU are Memori (it's written in 2nd person)
A white envelope with "To Memori Nox" written on it is placed on your desk, sealed with a too familiar red wax that makes you remember your childhood. You open it, reading the minimalist and hardly unique invitation in black ink:
Join us for the 22th annual
CHARITY BALL
I just found a notebook in which I pretended to write Memori's diary (with the old lore) and I wanted to transcript the content here lol As always... Rough translation from Spanish!
Cursive font means smudged, hurried writing
SMALL BLACK NOTEBOOK
4/01
They told me to write here everything I want to write. My thoughts, everything. What looks interesting. But I don't know what to write. A diary? For my birthday, how stupid. I've never received presents.
I am bored. It's been so long since I last wrote.
He is already coming.
CARMILLA
CARMILLA is a vision of hypnotic elegance and danger. Her long, white hair cascades just to her chest, smooth and luminous, framing a face both exquisite and unreadable. Her eyes are a vivid red, smoldering with intensity and intelligence, while her lips —painted a dark, seductive shade— contrast strikingly against her moonlit pale skin. Every glance is deliberate, every smile a calculated temptation.
Her wardrobe speaks volumes of her power and taste: a deep crimson mermaid gown that hugs her figure, accentuating her hourglass silhouette with a scrunched waist. The plunging neckline offers a subtle invitation, while the high slit reveals sleek black heels, each step deliberate and poised. Her stiletto nails are a masterpiece of black and red, shimmering with a hypnotic sfumatura that catches light and attention alike.
Carmilla’s personality mirrors her appearance: classy, composed and dangerously alluring. She speaks in a low, lilting tone that draws listeners in, her words polished yet edged with subtle poison, flattery that could wound or manipulate. Her cool-headed nature ensures she rarely loses control, making her as intimidating as she is captivating.
She is the owner of the Midnight Club, a sanctuary where humans curious about the vampire world mingle with vampires themselves. Despite the bustling environment she oversees, Carmilla prefers discretion, rarely granting audiences and keeping her own affairs private. Her presence in the club is like a shadow: felt, never fully seen. She wields influence with quiet precision, a master of the delicate dance between allure and authority.
Carmilla possesses a rare and unnerving power over the minds of humans: with nothing more than a glance into their eyes, she can read their thoughts and deepest desires. For humans, this ability is nearly effortless, allowing her to uncover secrets, gauge intentions or subtly manipulate emotions without a word. Vampires, however, are more resistant —while her own clan is easily perceived, members of other clans require greater effort and focus for her intrusion to succeed. The act is intimate and precise, matching her cool, controlled demeanor: she does not need to touch or taste blood, and yet her presence alone commands awareness, fascination and, often, silent obedience.
See also: Purebloods, Vampire Clans, Midnight Club
DAMIANO
DAMIANO is a striking figure, even among the unholy few. His platinum hair is straight, sleek, and silky, falling just below his ears, with the top half pulled back in a tidy half updo secured by a crimson bow —a subtle, playful nod to his personality. His eyes are a vivid, penetrating red, glinting with mischief and charm, a reflection of his eternal curiosity and lightly teasing nature. A signature smirk often graces his lips, sharp and confident, hinting at a personality that thrives on the unknown and unpredictable.
His features are precise and arresting: high cheekbones, a strong jawline and delicate lines that give him an ageless, alluring beauty. He dresses in dark, elegant attire befitting his vampiric station. Crisp white shirt tucked into straight-leg trousers are paired with tailored vests, leather shoes, and muted, shadowy tones —black, deep burgundy— reflecting both his sophistication and his identity as a pureblood. Every detail is deliberate, though never ostentatious; it’s effortlessly him.
Despite his deadly and eternal nature, Damiano carries a quiet melancholy. He once loved a human maiden, whose brief life and untimely death left him in a state of eternal mourning. Her memory is a soft ache, one that shaped him profoundly: he ceased creating new vampires, instead offering his blood to trusted followers who have earned his loyalty. This lingering grief adds depth to his otherwise playful, almost mischievous demeanor.
Damiano has peculiar tastes that make him uniquely memorable. He delights in eating flower petals, savoring their delicate textures and fleeting fragrances. Most notably, he possesses a terrifyingly intimate ability: by tasting someone’s blood, he can access their memories —their joys, regrets and hidden truths. This makes him both fascinating and fearsome, for his curiosity is limitless and his insight inescapable.
See also: Purebloods, Vampire Clans
Converted Vampires
CONVERTED vampires are those humans who have been transformed by a pureblood. While they inherit the immortality and supernatural traits of vampires, they are weaker than purebloods in nearly every aspect. Their physical abilities, healing and magical potential are limited compared to their progenitor, but they can grow stronger if regularly fed with their Master’s blood, which may also allow them to temporarily access a portion of their Master’s unique abilities. The bond between a pureblood and their converts is profound: a convert belongs solely to the clan of the vampire who created them and their thoughts can be partially or fully read by their Master.
The process of metamorphosis is excruciating. The human must first die before the transformation can occur and the pain of rebirth is unlike any natural suffering. Once converted, these vampires require a constant supply of blood to survive; without it, they weaken rapidly and may even disintegrate. Unlike purebloods, they do not possess the innate resilience to endure long periods without feeding. Converted vampires bear the mark of their clan, a visible sign that signifies their allegiance and origin.
Although they gain many of their Master’s traits, converted vampires cannot turn humans into vampires themselves, except in rare cases where a Master grants special permission —a favour usually reserved for the most trusted or powerful converts. They are slightly photosensitive, more vulnerable to sunlight than their progenitor, and their reproductive ability as humans is lost forever. Within the hierarchy of vampire society, the most powerful converts are often the most favoured, receiving greater attention, resources and the opportunity to learn or wield aspects of their Master’s power. Their loyalty is absolute, both by magical bond and the structure of the clan, making them formidable allies —or dangerous tools— under the guidance of a pureblood.
See also: Purebloods, Vampire Clans
Pureblood Vampires
PUREBLOODS are the apex of vampiric existence, the original progenitors from whom all other vampires descend. Unlike typical humans, they were born with an insatiable thirst for blood and, upon death, they are reborn as immortal beings retaining their mortal form. This cycle of rebirth grants them centuries of experience and an almost unparalleled understanding of both human and magical affairs. Their immortality is absolute under normal circumstances; injuries that would kill ordinary beings are healed instantly and they do not age. However, they are not invincible — artifacts imbued with sacred or "holy" magic can harm them, a rare vulnerability in an otherwise unassailable form.
Physically, Purebloods surpass all other creatures in strength, speed and endurance. Their movements are fluid and impossibly fast, their reflexes honed beyond the limits of mortal perception. Their blood is black as ink and, while not strictly necessary for survival, consuming blood significantly amplifies their abilities. A vampire’s bite carries a natural aphrodisiac that relaxes the recipient and their saliva has a numbing effect akin to a mosquito’s, allowing them to bite with minimal initial discomfort. When tapping into their full powers, their eyes take on an almost supernatural glow as their sclera darken, signaling a state of heightened strength and danger.
Purebloods are also the only vampires capable of creating new vampires and the process requires both their consent and the human’s. Transformation is excruciating, as the human must die before the metamorphosis can begin, and the new vampire emerges weaker than the Pureblood, bound by their guidance and limitations. Despite their fearsome reputation, Purebloods do not necessarily prey on humans and often engage in their feeding and turning with consent, guided by rules and discretion. They are creatures of predatory grace, blending charm, power and intelligence, a perfect balance of danger and allure that ensures their dominance over both mortal and immortal realms.
Despite the existence of vampires throughout the world, there are seemingly only four purebloods, each a singular entity of unmatched power. These four are not merely elders; they are the originators of the entire vampiric lineage, and each possesses a unique, extraordinary ability that sets them apart from the others. This power is innate and cannot be replicated by lesser vampires, but it can be passed down selectively to their "offspring", the humans they transform into vampires. In this way, each clan reflects the nature of its pureblood progenitor, inheriting both their abilities and a fragment of their influence.
See also: Converted, Vampire Clans, Carmilla, Damiano
KAI SLEEMAN
A CONFIDENT and laid-back boy, he has striking ginger hair and lavender-grey eyes that glint with sly amusement, freckles dusting the bridge of his nose, often highlighted by a lazy, self-assured smirk. Lean and wiry, he moves with the smooth, quick reflexes of a predator, every step and gesture efficient and controlled, built for close combat rather than careful strategy. His wardrobe favors sleek, black tailored pieces —straight-leg trousers and fitted jackets that echo a suit but are cut for mobility and practicality, perfect for swift, precise action. He is charming and easygoing in general, but his flattery is reserved for one person, carefully deployed with Dr. Maddock to gain small advantages or favour; beyond that, he is indifferent to authority and maintains a self-serving streak. A product of Project Ascendium and one of the BLACK SHEEP, he is lethal in physical confrontations, relying on speed, reflex and raw skill rather than planning, and his casual, magnetic confidence allows him to move through danger and chaos with unnerving ease.
See also: Project Ascendium, BLACK SHEEP, Dr. Maddock
KIAN LOWELL
KIAN, only 21 years old, is a striking figure with mint-green, loose waves and wide, luminous golden eyes that hide a dangerous glint beneath their puppy-like warmth. Lean and agile, he moves with controlled elegance, dressed in deep browns or navy blues layered over crisp whites, with tailored black boots and minimal, deliberate accessories like thin chains or a pocket watch. His personality is charming and bright, almost innocent, yet he harbors a compulsive obsession with religion and flesh, subtly influenced by the vampire blood coursing through him. A product of Project Ascendium and one of the BLACK SHEEP, he is favored by high-ranking Temple officials, his lethal precision with firearms, down to the millimeter, being unmatched and highly helpful. Beneath his adorably devoted demeanor lies a predator, blending obedience, worshipful fascination with sacred spaces, and predatory instincts that make him both adored and quietly feared in equal measure.
See also: Project Ascendium, BLACK SHEEP
Liraz Sapiente
Dr. Liraz is a striking figure, instantly recognizable by his mute purple hair that falls in precise, controlled lines around a pale, angular face, and his piercing magenta eyes, which seem to measure and calculate everything they observe. Pragmatic to a fault and ruthlessly calculating, he has earned a reputation as one of the most brilliant minds in Maddock’s laboratory, capable of designing, analyzing and perfecting complex experiments with cold efficiency. Where others might falter under ethical hesitation or emotional attachment, Liraz excels, even when dealing with children who might awaken a softer side in most people —he overcomes any inclination to sentiment, ensuring that the laboratory’s objectives are never compromised. Though his role often places him in the quiet aftermath of experiments, monitoring the children’s vitals and adjusting their treatments with meticulous care, his mind is always several steps ahead, orchestrating outcomes both within the lab and in Maddock himself. It is through a combination of intellect, subtle psychological insight, and measured flattery that Liraz guides Maddock’s decisions, quietly bending the great mind’s obsession to his own designs while remaining nearly invisible in the process. Cold, methodical, and supremely self-controlled, Liraz embodies the perfect balance of scientific skill and manipulative genius, a shadow at the centre of the laboratory’s operations whose influence shapes far more than any one experiment.
See also: Project Ascendium, Dr. Maddock
Bram Maddock
Dr. Bram Maddock, once a high priest of the Temple, now dwells in the shadow of his former piety, driven by a singular, consuming obsession: the creation of the "perfect human". His black, curly hair, perpetually in disarray, frames a face that betrays both brilliance and a hint of despair, magnified by the thick lenses perched on his nose. Draped in the crisp white robes of a scientist —an ironic echo of his clerical past— he moves through his laboratory with the precision of a man who has devoted decades to understanding life itself, yet whose humanity has slowly eroded beneath the weight of obsession. Time has passed him by; his prime years are long gone, leaving him physically diminished but intellectually formidable, a mind still capable of dissecting the mysteries of creation with frightening acuity.
Despite the Temple’s waning influence in the world, they continue to quietly fund Maddock’s experiments, a pragmatic decision that allows them to outsource the "dirty work" of their remaining power. Maddock, for all his intelligence, is naïve when it comes to human cunning. Flattery and praise are his weaknesses; he welcomes adulation as much as he does data, never suspecting how it may be used to guide his choices. Yet among the many scientists and assistants who surround him, only Dr. Liraz has learnt to exploit this blind spot with subtlety and patience. Through carefully measured compliments, strategic guidance, and veiled suggestions, Liraz steers Maddock’s decisions, ensuring that projects and experiments align with their shared, often secretive goals —all without Maddock ever realizing he is being manipulated.
His work is as meticulous as it is macabre. Children are chosen for their obedience and potential, subjected to procedures that push the boundaries of body, mind, and soul. Occasionally, Maddock takes the most compliant or promising subjects to the Temple —not as a reward or act of faith, but both out of a personal nostalgia for the sacred halls of his past and because the Temple demands proof of the experiments’ progress. In these moments, his reverence for the echoing corridors and hushed ceremonies he once devoted himself to mingles uneasily with his obsessive scientific drive, a haunting reminder of the man he once was.
See also: Project Ascendium, Dr. Liraz
Temple VS Nobles
In most nations, there is no monarchy and authority is fractured between competing powers. Over the years since the War of the Seven, the Temple has steadily lost influence, its once-unquestioned authority weakened by corruption and the rising power of the nobles. Communities that once bent to the clergy’s will now look to local nobles for protection, justice, and guidance, valuing tangible results over divine mandates. Priests and acolytes still hold sway in some regions, but their sermons ring hollow to many who have suffered under the Temple’s rigid rule. The nobles, by contrast, use their wealth and control over land to assert dominance, offering security and prosperity where faith no longer delivers. Across the fractured nations, people pledge allegiance pragmatically, often shifting loyalties like the wind, and the balance between mortal ambition and fading divine authority teeters on the edge of open conflict.
See also: Temple, The War of The Seven
Give me your OCs party stats Example= Julieta: Probability of getting invited 4.8/5 Alcohol tolerance 1.2/5 Dancing skills 3.2/5 Flirting success rate 3.6/5
I have to update this lol
MEMORI
Probability of getting invited: 2/5
Probability of going: 3/5
Alcohol tolerance: 2.5/5 (average)
Dancing skills: 2.5/5 (average)
Flirting success rate: 3/5
MIMI
Probability of getting invited: 4.5/5
Probability of going: 4.5/5
Alcohol tolerance: 4/5
Dancing skills: 4.8/5
Flirting success rate: 5/5
ALEXA
Probability of getting invited: 0/5
Probability of going: 0/5
Alcohol tolerance: 2.5/5 (average)
Dancing skills: 0/5
Flirting success rate: -3/5
Project Ascendium
Project Ascendium was conceived in secret beneath the Temple, a pursuit of human perfection masked as divine exploration. Its architect, a former high priest turned obsessive scholar, received funding and protection from the Temple —not out of malice, but in a calculated compromise: in exchange for supporting his experiments, he and his team were tasked with producing the most exceptional assets, children engineered and trained to carry out the Temple’s covert operations, its unspoken dirty work. The project drew from the innocence and potential of children, molding them into beings capable of subtle manipulation, precision and influence, all under the guise of sacred study . In this way, the Temple maintained its outward piety and moral authority, even as a hidden hand orchestrated acts the faithful would never condone, and the experiment itself became both a laboratory of obsession and a tool of power, its influence rippling quietly through the corridors of the Temple.
See also: Temple, Black Sheep, Dr. Maddock, Dr. Liraz
The Temple of the Luminous Path
The Temple of the Luminous Path was built atop the Hill of Dawn, a natural vantage point where the first light of morning touches the land. It was said that centuries ago, the Primordinus themselves blessed this place, leaving the soil fertile and the skies unusually clear at sunrise, a constant reminder of divine presence. Its location was chosen not only for its visibility —so that every villager and traveler could see the shining spires— but also for its symbolic meaning: the hill rises above the plains like a beacon, representing the Church’s guidance over the mortal world.
Inside, golden icons shimmer with the likenesses of the Primordinus, and halls are lined with candles that burn day and night, a symbol of unbroken devotion. The air smells of incense and old parchment, and the chants of the clergy echo in the vaulted chambers, a solemn reminder of the light that once guided all hearts without question. Yet beneath the splendor, cracks have begun to show: the frescoes grow dim, the golden shine tarnished and the once-commanding echoes of prayer now falter, as fewer pilgrims climb the steps to kneel before the sacred icons. Where authority was once absolute, now murmurs of doubt and neglect drift through the marbled corridors and the priests’ robes seem heavier with the weight of a faith that no longer burns as fiercely in the hearts of men.
Outside the temple, the lands that once trembled under the Temple's gaze have grown bolder, and the Blue Bloods assert their influence with wealth and inherited favor, challenging the sanctity that the Temple once claimed as unassailable. Pilgrims linger less frequently in the courtyards, and offerings, once plentiful, now arrive in trickles. The clergy find themselves appealed to less often, and when they are, their words carry less weight, their decrees met with polite dismissal rather than reverent obedience. The Temple remains a beacon of devotion in form, but the radiance of its influence has dimmed, softened by time and the inexorable rise of those who answer to wealth and heritage rather than faith.
See also: Project Ascendium, Noble Houses
Shine bright, luck’s on your side, keep the wonder.
Lucifer, "THE BRIGHT ONE"
LUCIFER, The Bright One, radiates a light that blinds as it comforts, a Primordinus of illumination, childhood innocence and the whimsy of fortune. His brilliance reveals and conceals in equal measure, turning the hearts of mortals toward both awe and caution. He moves through the world like a living beacon of possibility, where chance and blessing dance together upon the threshold of fate. To behold him is to feel hope and wonder rise within, yet to follow is to step upon paths where fortune shifts with a whisper, and joy may be granted as swiftly as it is withdrawn. In his presence, the faithful and the curious alike are reminded that even the purest light bears the unpredictable hand of destiny.
O Bright One, whose light doth shine ever bright, Bring forth thy blessing, make my way clear, Grant me luck in every task, And the joy of childhood’s sweet delight. Let thy radiance ever guide me forth.
In shadows, the truth will be lost; only the false will stand in the light.
Zillah, "THE DARK LORD"
THE embodiment of darkness and the paradox of truth and deceit, Zillah drifts as both formless shadow and a terrifying hybrid of man, goat, and scorpion, his chains rattling with every unspoken secret. He exposes hidden truths, forces self-reflection and drags lies into the light. To confront Zillah is to confront oneself; those who look upon him unflinchingly may find liberation, while those who shrink from his gaze may become trapped in their own fears. His shadow stretches longer than the day, yet in it, clarity can be found.
O Dark Lord, In thy veil of mystery, I seek thy grace. Guide me in silence and shadows deep, Let no truth be lost in thy hidden ways, And in thy dark, grant me strength and sight.
