#exodusevent

[strayatlas]

bagboy (open)

The gas station was in the middle of no where. Beyond the blacktop, everything faded into flat country and endless night in all directions. The few street lamps were swarmed with moths and their lights fizzled yellow and sickly, but somehow made the place look like a beacon on the highway for miles in any direction. The nearest bar was a four mile walk east, a little further out, but he hadn’t seen a car blur by in hours. Summertime. Everyone was getting plastered, at least everyone Wyatt knew. Part of him wished he was partying alongside them, if just to witness any insanity. The other part (the louder part) was adamant he take the night shift and earn some extra cash.

The man across the counter grunted something that might have been construed as a greeting, and Wyatt responded in kind. He’d started remembering the regulars, and this guy always got a Slim Jim, a six-pack of Bud Light, and two packs of filterless Camels, came to $17.92.

“Have a good one,” he muttered, shoving the receipt in the bag and handing the man’s spoils off to him in a paper sack. As he was leaving, the bell over the door sounded, synonymous with a blinding flash of headlights pulling up to a pump. It wasn’t a car he recognized. Instead of fucking with the unpacked box of Big Red in the aisle, or restocking the beer cooler, Wyatt pushed himself up on the back counter and took a long drink from a tall can of Pabst.

[stargazerxzoe-blog]

Whisperings { open }

Zoe could count the number of times she’s been into a bar on one hand. She’d never been drawn to them the way so many others seemed to be - hurting souls, desperate for the dulling mercy of liquor to ease the burden of their misfortunes. Relief, courage, escape; the reasons for them to come here were endless, and she felt them all heavy on the air like a despairing fog. 

She sat alone, at a table against the window, enjoying the way the moonlight diffused through the glass to reflect against the smudged table before her. In her hands were seventy-eight of her closest friends, seventy-eight unique whispering voices, the familiar weight of them like a living pulse against her palms. Her fingers moved through them with a loving ease, shuffling them idly as her mind wandered an array of various, aimless directions. Twisting paths, leading nowhere, but somewhere sometimes, to years that have long since past, to encounters she has yet to still have, returning every so often back again to the dull mumblings of those sharing the bar with her.  

And then, she felt it - that distinct tickling of another’s gaze falling upon her. Blue eyes, her two cold, twin glaciers, fluttered upward to find the one whose energy called for attention. “Greetings,” she welcomed, her tone as sweet as fresh honey. “You have something you’d like to know, don’t you?”

[icarianezra]

up the stakes (open)

The pulp of the wood sloughed off easier when it was wet. It was a trick his grandfather had taught him, sitting in the back of an old Ford under their oak tree. He was young to hold a knife so big — as long or longer than his whole arm — but he was strong for his age, they’d told him, clapping him hard on the back and thrusting the sheathed blade against his chest. The hilt cramped his fingers, and the strenuous motion of scraping away the wood burned his biceps, but he kept going. There was one thing the men in his family couldn’t abide, and that was weakness.

If he could avoid having that disappointment directed at him for as long as he lived, he imagined he’d live a long while.

Ezra pulled the cigarette from between his teeth, and finally looked up from his work. He’d gotten through two dozen in an hour; not mad. As he exhaled a plume of smoke, he set his knife aside and exchanged its weight for that of a long-neck. Pale, piss-flavoured suds lingered within. Hunting didn’t pay for the good lager. When he noticed someone eyeing what was left of his six pack, he spoke up.

“You want one?”

[wraithesca]

@icarianezra

He could almost pretend.

His hand toyed with the light-- or perhaps it toyed with him.

He stood to the left of drawn curtains, their dark silk much like the night he preferred to this flittering sunlight. It filtered through the blinds, colored his flesh, would have heated it if he could feel it, but did not begin to burn him with its immense intensity.

He could almost pretend.

That the ring he now bore was just a sweet token from Ezra, and not the reason that the light did not threaten to set him aflame. That the ring was not just a trick of a witch, but a gift that human lovers might exchange.

He could almost pretend.

Almost.

Esca drew away his hand, and sunk back into the shadows of the room. "You are a lie,” he told it, studying the silver ring beneath the scrutiny of his gaze. Its black stone, at least, mirrored the look of his decayed still heart. He twisted it upon his finger, rolled the aged band over and over, and the obsidian jewel winked when hit by a flash of bright rays.

For a second he stood, and in the next he was seated on a leather sofa; an item which existed across the room’s threshold.

“This is mad.” Esca reminded, peering over at the Hunter. He moved to fast, sensed to much, breathed none. He had a knack for compulsion. Then there was that one comical bit: draining a human of life. The list streamed onward, and was rather daunting when he cared to make a tally. He’d long forgotten how to act human. “Ezra, what is there for us to do that’s remotely normal?”

Before the ring, even the dim-lighted lamps about Ezra’s house pestered him. The ill fluorescents of his lights were minuscule flames playing beneath his skin. But he never mentioned it. Never complained. Esca knew he was trouble enough.

[lastexodusrp-blog]

Welcome to the Hellmouth Modern Day Supernatural AU

Colorado Springs, Colorado looks like any other mid-western town from the outside, shaded by desert mountain ranges, and landlocked by farmland on all sides. Its rich Native American history and proximity to Pikes Peak and the Rocky Mountain keep it on tourists’ radars, but it’s also these things that make it a center for Supernatural activity. 

There are rumours among the more superstitious townfolk that it sits near a Hellmouth, an entrance to another world. From that mouth comes demons, abominations, and strange manifestations of power. There are others that simply believe that the town’s position near ancient rock formations, and hallowed burial grounds causes it to attract certain forces and energies. 

Whatever the case may be, Colorado Springs has been a haven for supernatural creatures for centuries — be they vampires, werewolves, dragons, witches, shapeshifters, or ghosts. This underground world churning beneath the noses of the city’s human population is wide-spread and rife with rivalries, alliances, violence, and politics. There are royal vampires, werewolf mobs, hunter collectives charged with keeping peace, and even councils of ancient dragons.

Where does your character fit in this chaos?

In order to get muses flowing again, we’ve decided to host an AU Event that pulls our characters out of their normal lives, and throws them into something completely different. Feel free to get creative and do what you want with this event; the more out there, the better. Bring on the kitsunes, the mermaids, the demi-gods, the sirens — we welcome it all.

This event will last for two full weeks, starting Sunday, July 30th, at 4PM (CST), and ending on Sunday, August 13th, at 12PM Noon (CST). Feel free to keep your threads going once the event’s closed, and remember to tag your starters with #exodusevent and #hellmouthau. And remember to …

                                         …  SURVIVE.

[empyrhien-blog]

Eva “Euna” Rhie, Vampire

Euna Rhie was born the daughter of two renowned hunters. A descendant of a long line of hunters, the Rhie family was respected within its community. Known as a Pillar Family, the Rhies had a long-standing tradition of setting and amending codes of conducts within their clave as the turning tides of time brought upon new waves of mythical creatures that wrought havoc upon human settlements. They saw themselves as protectors rather than hunters, and followed a strict code of conduct that was based on honor above all else. This honor did not excuse weakness, however, and the realms that fell under their reign were protected ruthlessly and mercilessly against those who dared to disturb the peace. Trained for the profession since birth, Euna demonstrated a proficiency in an extensive spread of weaponry and combat, along with some variety of linguistic skills. Though trained in all weapons available at their disposal, Euna found a penchant for blades-- -a beloved specialty of her own.

It was in her adventures as a hunter that she came upon and befriended Esca Mercuritte: an orphaned hunter that excelled at his work. The two formed a steadfast bond that did not dwindle even when Esca was turned to a vampire, though their contact remained few and far in between as Esca took to the shadows as the creature of the night that he had become.  

She had been on a diplomatic mission, if not much else, to gather council from a few other Pillar Families they considered allies-- -there had been a proliferation of werewolf attacks upon the northeast, tensions among all populations were high- --when she was attacked by a pack of werewolves. Though a skilled warrior, Euna was overcome in the fight and left for the dead until she was saved by Esca and turned into a vampire. With the life of the undead having been breathed into her form, in her panicked haze Eva insisted upon returning to her family even as Esca warned her it was foolish to do so in her newly turned state. The advice, however, fell upon deaf ears as Eva made quick work on returning to her family. She thought herself a protector still, though it was the urges of the undead that overcame her long enough for her to kill her own family in bloodlust. When she awoke from the week-long nightmare that had been bathed in blood by her own tooth and fang, her family was dead and she left the shambles of it behind and escaped into the night. She found company in Esca under who she was trained in some matter or form, to the life of a vampire.

( Legends would have it said that the Rhies were killed during a vicious vampire attack while their daughter Euna was murdered by a hostile werewolf pack in the washing tide of rising tensions that changed the fabric of how the Pillar Families viewed supernatural and human relations once again. )

Euna Rhie died along with her family. In this aftermath, she is known as Eva.

[octavixns-blog]

• Octavian Vestri • Appears 24 (Born near the end of Imperial Rome) • Vampire • 

Someone like Octavian was never meant to amount to much; the son of a prostitute on the edge of a dying empire and a nameless legionary who was gone just as quickly as he had appeared. It was a miracle he was even allowed to live, and not be taken to die outside the city walls as soon as he entered the world. The Gods were smiling in his favour, but it would not last.

By the time he reached adulthood, Octavian was very much of the mind that the Gods had turned their back on him only as soon as they had halted the Fates from severing the string of his life. A poor, bastard child with no prospects and barely any family, he made his way to the capital to seek work, warned by his mother and the other girls at the brothel who had helped raise him to keep an eye out for those with untoward intentions who roamed back-alleys of Rome with poor intentions of pretty young things like him. 

He paid them no mind, and had no sooner secured work amongst the glittering columns of the empire’s heart when they were proved right. The darkness shrouded the man, the creature, that came for him until it was too late, and the death he had been destined for had never come, at least not in the form he knew. Before his eyes, the empire he knew fell, others took it’s place, and though the world changed as if by magic, Octavian was no longer under the heel of time. His appearance never changed from that day, but the naive boy from the provinces was no more. With the years at his mercy, he acquired wealth, knowledge and power more than he could ever have hoped for in the desperation of his youth. 

Over time, Octavian learned how to turn the curse of eternal living death into his advantage. The years twisted him too, as centuries dragged by and those he grew to care for continued to leave him for their human fate by his own hand or time’s. Loneliness and boredom has made him bitter, while so many eons of existence made him sly, cunning, and just as formidable as the gods he had prayed to as a child. Though he never stays long in one place, he was recently drawn to Colorado Springs by whispers of it’s magnetism to creatures not entirely of earth who reside there, if for the thrill of existing amongst vampire hunters, werewolves, and those of his kind who he prefers to steer clear of, if little else. 

[infractuslucas]

Lucas’ mother never told the father of her child that witchcraft would flow through his veins. It was safer that way; a werewolf hunter with a penchant for violence, he was not one overly accepting of those different to him. Why his mother ended up with such a man, Lucas could never figure out though she assured him there was a spark between them, at least in the beginning.

The two of them spent hours pouring over spell books and muttering magic under their breath while Lucas’ father was away on hunting trips. Their secret was well kept, and the young witch was a quick study. He loved the magic flowing in his veins, and was adept at controlling his power well before he reached his teens.

It came as a heavy blow when their secret came off the shelf, quite literally, in the form of a spellbook left out after his fathers early return from a hunting trip. Lucas’ mother sent him away, and he could merely sit and listen through the walls at the fight that ensued. By the morning, a house that once was home to three, was a home only to one.

Lucas and his mother were on a plane back to Colorado by the time the sun came up, off to join with his mothers coven that she had left for life with her then-growing family. Returned to them, with her young son, they were welcomed home with open arms. Lucas thrived in a town bustling with supernatural activity and the kind of people his father always warned him to steer clear of. He found them more fascinating than dangerous, and though his father’s warnings still linger in the back of his mind, he pays them less and less mind with each day that passes.

Powerful beyond his years, Lucas no longer lives with his mother and the coven, but is in regular contact with them as they’re his collective family now. His familiar, a calico cat named Hera, is the only other inhabitant of his little apartment, though it overflows with plants and books and a plethora of things he’s collected over time.