Summary:
Memories fades, feelings fades, faces become lost in the swirls of time. Hearts break and bonds become unbounded. That is the fate of a humans mind. So how would it be for a vampire?
-~-
Crowning the dark hills lays a castle surrounded by mystery. Nobody is seen there and people who goes in – never comes out again! It's been said that the castle just appeared someday, on the same time of the solareclipse. People sometimes hear the howls of wolves at midnight. Unknown to anyone, the roots of the castle sticks deep, so deep the builder still lives – over a hundred years after!
Sitting on his throne, seeing out over the attendents in the room, this castle is owned by no other than the king of mischief and darkness – The demon king. Still in his younger youth the king rules his people with safe grip, surrounded by his most trusted and succesfull court. Obstacles happens, moments pass, egos clashes in this immortal castle.

Rules:
1.Please keep your fingers from my idea! It's © me and I put alot of efforts into it!
2.Pm me the form, you can begin roleplaying after I set up your profile!
3.There are three breeds: Demon, vampire and werewolf
4.This is a semi-literate roleplay, which means you should take some time going through your post!
5.Here we roleplay after turn, that means if your in a conversation with someone, you need to wait for them to answer!
6.No godmoding, powerplaying or Mary/Gary sues!
7.This happens in 'old times' so there is no electricity, guns etc.
8.Of course – follow Menewsha's rules!
9.All ooc chat, must be put like this: (( OOC: Blah blah blah )) - with different colour if you want!
10. You can have 2 'main' characters (characters that appear in most of your post) and as many 'unmain' you want (only appears 1-2 posts!)!
10.Have fun ^^

Profile Template:
Name: (First, middle (optional) and last)
Age: (Only werewolves is 'mortal' – don't be too crazy!)
Gender: (Male or female)
Breed: (Demon, vampire or werewolf)
Title: (Lord/Lady, Baron/Baronet or Palantine)
Personality: (Descriptive + strengths and weakness' pretty pwease =3 )
Bio: (-Background/History)
Appearance: (Link to picture or description)
Skills: (This is not magic powers it can be 'runs fast', 'agile' or 'smooth talker' etc.)
Powers: (Up to 3)
Weapons: (Optional)
Master: (Username)

Obs obs obs: Werewolves and vampires is not good friends!

Royals:

Name: Drake Lucifer Rosett
Age: 220
Gender: Male
Breed: Half demon
Title: The Demon King
Personality: Drake has the power of words in his control. He is usually surrounded by a calm and cool aura, even if his inner is in uproar. His temper is very unpredictable and it can change every second. He can be very generous one minute, then change to cold and distant. He lack sleep because of his paranoia. Deep inside he is worried if he ever loose control over his powers again.
Bio: Drake was originally a outcast because of his low status as a half breed. His dad was a highly noble, so he grew up with the old king and the crown prince. The crown prince was foul and stupid and ended up getting himself killed. The king grew crazy and accused Drake for killing the crown prince, before he tried to kill him. Drake, as a half demon, couldn't control his urges and killed the king. Staring at the now dead ruler, he decided to take his place. Transforming he lived 20-30 year of the old king and wrote a testament, then he faked his dead. The real Drake now came back from a 'business trip' to find himself of the Demon King.
Skills: Can be very manipulating, love creating mischief.
Powers: Can transform to others he has touched, has a magically increased hearing, can grow his nails to claws.
Weapons: Doesn't need any, has guards to do the fighting.
Master: Katzzie

Court:

Originally Posted by Firemare

Name: Shraa Tallmore
Age: Darling don't you know you never ask a woman her age? Clearly I'm twenty four.
Gender: Female
Breed: Demon
Title: Lady
Personality: I enjoy playing with masks. Generally I am distant, sarcastic and easily amused. However beneath that I can be caring, though it's rare. I try to mitigate some of my "King's" mischeif, the lives here are tangled enough, but it is a dangerous game, for he would not appriciate my interference if he knew.
Bio: I grew up in court as a low ranking member. My parents, like myself, were happier observing the patterns then taking part in them and taught me how to look. I know everyone, but no one knows me, and that's how I like it.
Appearance: Her skin is a caramel color, her long hair black as pitch, and her eyes as green as new leaves. She's tall for a female at 5'7, and has a slightly amused smile at all times.
Skills: Clever, silver tounged, extremely analytical
Powers: Telepathy, shapeshifting, healing
Weapons: Glaive
Master: Firemare

Originally Posted by Kriddles

Name: Ebony Vedour
Age: 110, young for a vampire
Gender: Female
Breed: Vampire
Title: Lady
Personality: Ebony is a snob at best, at her worst she is a ego-driven whore who would do just about anything to get what she wants. She never affiliates with anyone that is below Noble Title, unless they are to be her sacrifice to her God, Dervopicus. For sport she hunts Werewolf packs down, looking down upon them as vermin of the world. She has already killed many packs and keeps the Alpha of the Donavon pack(A Royal Pack known as Knights) as a pet on a silver leash, to show her dominance in her own Clan. If she were to go without blood for more than ten hours, she is weakened to the point of near death (That is how addicted she is to it. Kind of like a drug.)
Bio: Ebony was homeless on a poor town's streets, where whores, thieves, and murderers walked. It was common enough to hear screams pleading for help echo through the night. Her parents had long past away from disease that the rats had brought. Their bodies devoured by the wolves. Every night she wished for death, but it never came... It never would. One night, during a downpour of rain and a rage of thunder and lightning, a man approached her. He offered a gloved hand, dressed in white. An angel? Finally, it was her time to go. She reached out with a pale bony hand that was matted with dirt and grime, and took his hand. He announced himself as the Lord of the Vedour Clan, before taking her back to his home. He cleaned her up, dressed her to impress and gave her a simple kiss on the cheek. It was when she blushed, he lost control. He took her into his arms and pressed her against him, smelling her hair and telling her that everything would be okay. Not a second later she screamed, as fangs sunk deep into her skin. Bringing her near death, he lay her down, his need fulfilled. He sliced his wrist open, fresh red blood dripped into her mouth, sharing the bond that so many had felt was dark and evil.
The years passed and she lived happily as a vampire. The Lord of the Vedour Clan taught her what he knew. Of their Blood God and his blessings of blood magic. She fell to love him, listening to every word he said and breathing in his scent every day. She wore rose-coloured glasses for him. Until she found him, bedding another woman. Silent rage filled her as she closed the door. Her love quickly turning to hate. Hours passed, laughs and giggles came from the master bedroom, before she could not take it any longer. She broke the door down, a wicked sword in hand. She killed the woman first, and finally... crying tears of blood she decapitated him, tearing out his heart and watched as the pulse from it slow and finally die. And that is the birth of the Lady of the Vedour Clan.
Appearance: Ebony is pale as the moon itself, her black straight hair falls to mid-back with bangs that cut off right before her blood red eyes. She is skinny with an ample bust that is complimented by a black corset custom made for her (She killed the clothes maker afterwards). She wears a black skirt that has a blood red cross on it, which hides a small thigh belt that holds several small vials of fresh blood. A small choker finishes off her ensamble.
Skills: Highly seductive even with women. She gets what she wants not matter what.
Powers: Blood Magic. She can manipulate it, change it at will, and use it's contents in the blood itself (I.E: Iron or water)
Weapons: A single small blade that is engraved with her God's words of dominance.
Master: Kriddles

Originally Posted by Kriddles

Name: Emily Donavon
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Breed: Werewolf
Title: Alpha
Personality: Emily is strong willed, but her pack makes her stronger. She is Alpha and for a good reason too, she is highly charismatic, giving strength phyisically and mentally to her pack. Many had tried hunting them down with silver. When in contact with silver they can't shift. But that never stopped them from fighting back. The night the Donavon Pack was massacred was the night that everything changed as she knew it. She now struggles to find that inner strength she once had, but being the pet of the Woman who ordered the slaughtering she just can't. It is almost as if she is a whipped dog who is kept at bay by a silver collar.
Bio: Emily Donavan was always the odd ball of any society. She had no parents, one was in a constant war while the other (Her mother) died of an illness. Her pale blue eyes, usually scared people away, but those who didn't run became her only family that she knew of.
When she turned 18, she noticed that when everyone had stopped growing she had growth spurts, her metabolism skyrocketed, and she was always running a 106 degree fever. Her normal cravings for cereal and milk changed to meat... raw meat. Scared of what she was going through, she hid, locking herself in her house. Then when the full moon came around, a group of kids came around to try and get her out of her house for a prank. Breaking in, they quickly took over... and her so did her anger. Her knees buckled out, fur sprouting from every pore in her body. She howled in pain as her nose elongated. Her hand and feet becoming paws, her vision of the night becoming more clear as she dropped to all four. A large brown wolf once where a woman stood. Terrified the teenagers ran, but they weren't fast enough...
The next day, reports of several missing teenagers went up. Of those missing people, Emily was one of them, however she was the only one with a 'Wanted' price under her picture. Her once refuge and prison was an open bloody skeleton.
A year went by, as Emily struggled to control her emotions. To shift at will and not by force. Then... The others found her. A full pack of creatures like her. They helped her train and tought her how to uphold their birthright. To kill the heartless beings of the night. Emily Retkor soon became Emily Donavan of the Donavan pack. They were considered Nobility of all of the Knight Packs (They don't consider themselves as Werewolves... they consider themselves knights). She quickly flew up the ranks, her strength and agility helped her. When the Alpha died in a battle against a Vampire Clan, she was announced leader of the Donavan Pack.
When she turned 25, the entire pack respected her as a leader and the only Alpha to be a female. She even had a suitable male for her to settle down with. However, her pack was attacked by several vampires who had been tipped off by the Guir Pack (A lower caste pack). The Vedour Clan (Vampires) was able to kill off the defenses leaving the weaker of the Pack vulnerable. Barely able to fight back from such a surprise attack, the Pack fell.
Appearance: Emily is tanned, which just accents her chestnut colored hair that is cut short... boyishly short. It is messy and sticks out at random places, which just adds to the crazy widows peak. Her bright blue eyes are startling, hints of violet in them. She never wears makeup, but instead has natural beauty. Thick eyelashes and lush lips. She's skinny with a bust and hips that could cause some double takes from passing men. She wears a white shirt who's collar is lined with the same coloured fur as her hair. Seven crosses line her neck, all of them different. Some were wooden, some were made from brass or copper, she even owned one that was pure gold. Her short black skirt accented her long legs that are adorned with knee high black boots. In her wolf form, her entire body is covered in chestnut brown fur. Her muzzle has a few markings on it that say she is blessed by the gods. Though she thinks thats just a bunch of crap. On her ears she has a touch over VERY bright orange fur.
Skills: Agile, and is very charismatic. She is very sarcastic though. Her unhuman strength comes from her inner wolf which she can control at will unless silver is touching her.
Powers: Her one true power comes during a full moon. Though she can shift from a wolf to a human at will, the full moon transforms her into what we think of as a typical wolfman... only she is a wolfwoman. Her strength is doubled and she looses control of her human side completely, murdering everyone in sight (Which is what the crosses are from... the innocents that she has killed). Not even silver can stop this process.
Weapons: Her Hands
Master: Kriddles

Originally Posted by Iori Vytenson

Name: Yulo Elas'ven
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Breed: Werewolf (totemic, not infection)
Title: Prince (equivelent to Baron in his tribe)
Personality: Yulo is calm, has a dry wit, and as a rule of thumb acts very reserved. He is subtle in his actions and comments, and behaves with tact towards others. He is a compassionate person who was raised to be compassionate and empathic. Hates injustice, but is also willing to do what is necessary for the greater good. A bit of a romantic.
Bio: Yulo is a low-ranking prince for the Elas, and was sent as an envoy to the court to see how things were run on this side of the world. Well regarded for his tact and common-sense regardless of his rank, he is usually treated as a higher-ranking prince by most of the nobles of the Elas. The Elas are a tribal civilization that, though tribal, are cultured and have a complex social structure and governing system, with the nobles being selected by a 'totem' at birth, totems being wolf (which is Yulo's totem, hawk, leopard, lion, rat, bull, boar, deer, and owl)
Appearance: (Will have picture soon). Yulo is somewhat short for his culture, but averages about medium-hight for most other lands. He has fair skin and platinum-blonde hair, and slate-grey eyes. He wears his thick hair cut medium-short, longer at the sides than the front and back. His standard mode of dress is a white cotton sash around his waist, hanging at the side, and luxuriously tanned and softened suede slacks tucked into top-quality silver-buckled leather boots. He wears no shirt, but a knee-length suede vest that can button up the center, but he leaves unbuttoned. The vest itself is worked with complex runic designs in silver thread, and bordered with silver braid. He wears elbow-length, unworked silver bracers backed with leather. Wears a white cloth around his neck that can be worn so that it covers his face form the eyes down. Completes his outfit with a leather shoulder-strap worn bandolier-style across his chest that he hangs his quiver from, and keeps his dagger and shortsword sheathed their as wel, dagger on the front, shortsword over the shoulder.
Skills: Very athletic, even gymnastic. Can run faster than most, with extraordinary balance, but while stronger than your average human, is physically weak compared to most Elas with the wolf-totem. Good eyesight and hearing, but by no-means supernatural.
Powers:
-Scent: can 'read' emotion, and follow trails with immaculate precision using scent.
-Controlled change: can change into a extraordinarily large wolf and back at will.
-Animal Alure: unwittingly emanates subtle pheramones that arouse most individuals of all races. Cannot control this ability.
Weapons:
-An elaborately worked longbow, accented with silver wire, and white bowstring-silencers.
-A short, slightly curved dagger with a saphire set in the stubby cross-piece. A silver wolf'shead acts as the pommel.
-A single-edged shortsword with a blade that broadens towards the middle, then comes to a fang-like double-edged point the last third of the way down. Hilt is wrapped in blue-dyed leather, with a thick silver ring as the pommel.
Master: Iori Vytenson

Sidenote about Totemic Werewolf: Is not affected by the moon, silver, etc, but instead gathers the ability to change into a powerful version of his totemic animal through years of harsh training and conditioning. Is in every way still human except for his totemic powers.

Originally Posted by ZaK.86

Name: james alexander randolph.

Age: two hundred fifteen years total, one hundred ninety five of those as a vampyre.

Gender: male.

Breed: vampyre.

Title: lord.

Personality: james likes social events, clothing, beethoven, art, reading, intelligent conversation, manipulating people, being right, having his own schedule, and dancing. he dislikes being told what to do, ignorance, upstarts, people who are badly dressed, love poems, vampyres who can't control themselves, being interrupted, violence, werewolves, and boredom. his strengths are that he is incredibly intelligent, strong willed, and manipulative. unfortunately he is also vain, self centered, unwilling to let anyone inside his shell, proud to a fault. vampyres aren't fearless though, james is afraid of living forever and getting attached to people. james has pretty much accomplished all of his goals over the years, which is why he has so much time to contemplate things. james feels like the world revolves around him, probably as a side effect of the fact he feels like he never has anything to do. he spends much of his time reading and thinking. he pushes people away because he hates to get close to his own kind, and he fears to get close to people. he has streaks where he despises his own kind for their lack of self control, and he despises humans because they die. pretty much, he makes excuses for not liking anyone.

Bio: james was born into what should have been the lap of luxury. his father never really paid enough attention, and his mother just gave up after a while. at the age of fifteen he packed up and moved to their home in london, hoping to get away from his parents. he spent his time at court, seducing the girls and spending all of the money his mother sent on clothes and fancy gifts. he knew that none of the girls at court were looking for a second son, but they played around with him anyways, and accepted his gifts. it was enough at the time to get them into his bed, secretly pulling one over on first sons like his ever so perfect brother.

he was nineteen going on twenty when he met carmilla. she was everything that he wanted in a woman, and for once, she seemed to actually like him. she was different from the other girls. she had her own fortune, she was from france. he couldn't resist. he fell hard. she played with him for about six months before she turned him, and with a cryptic note, vanished.

the first year he spent searching for her. then he tried to go home. his brother died after falling off of horse, and after that james couldn't bear to look at his mother. it wasn't until years after his family had all died that he came home to sell the estate and invest all of his assets. then he went to travel the world. the lord randolph would call on every court from time to time, and people eventually started assuming that he was his own son. he didn't bother to correct them.

in those early years, he would feed almost every night, and killing was an amusement for him. he felt like everyone deserved a share of the pain he felt. but after the first century it began to get old, james sunk into a state of self loathing. eventually, he taught himself to control his urges, to only feed when he needed to. he stopped murdering innocents and moved into an old house with a library. james spent all of his time reading, learning all he could, only coming out to feed.

it's only been in the last century that he's accepted who he is, and started coming out again. about twenty years ago he discovered the demon king's court and took up residence. since then, he hasn't really come out of his shell, but he has learned to be somewhat social again. not that he's nice about it.

Appearance: [LINK] there are few people who would tell you that james is anything but handsome. he has blond hair that he wears a little bit shaggy, as is the fashion, and piercing blue eyes. he is of average height for a modern man, only standing about five foot ten, but when he was young his height was something to comment on. james tends towards the height of fashion in his dress, always having been rather vain about his looks. he can spends hours fussing over his hair and wardrobe in the morning. especially since he really has nowhere to be these days.
Skills: james is highly intelligent and well read. he's also highly skilled at manipulation.

Powers: james has all of the powers and skills of a vampyre. he's superhumanly strong and agile and can take a mist form at will. he can also dominate a person with his gaze, but it doesn't work on everyone.

Weapons: james is proficient with broad sword and rapier, as well as with a longbow. however he doesn't carry any of these with him on a daily basis.

Master: ZaK.86

Announcements:
Roleplay open and accepting!

Soft footsteps emitted from the black haired male and the two guards on his sides. His long hair swayed free behind him and the glowing, yellow eyes scanned the hallway, resting on some of the paintings hanging on the walls. The guards had hazy breaths for keeping up with his long strides and he scowled slightly. This breathing interupts my thoughts, snapped he inside, but didn't mutter anything outloud, for if he asked them to stop breathing, they would just drop dead as small flies.

His necklace gently dunked into his chest, while he proceeded towards his destination. One of his few personal assistants came up and began, quite flustered, to tell him his agenda. Listening with one ear, his eyes began to wander downwards from the girls face, but he quickly looked up again, when she gasped - quite loudly for him. "Hmm? Anything I should know?" He's velvet voice sounded and she gaped slightly, before getting back to her senses. "N-no sir, of course-" She began stammering, but he quickly stopped listening.

Reaching his destination, he grinned sligthly, before the doors opened and he stepped inside the throne room. Making his way through the room, the guards scrampled together and stood stiff behind each of the pillars. Striding confident up along the room, he sat at the throne. Grasping the glass beside him in a firm grip, he sighed content and relaxed a little.

Shraa stood off to one side of the court where she could watch it's ebb and flow. The werewolves, vampires and demons, mixing, isolating and mixing again. It was a bit difficult to see the patterns from here, it would be better if she could see from above, like the dais upon which sat their erstwhile king. She spared him a glance and a small smile. She doubted that he even knew who she was except as another name of a member of his court, but she was a presence to match his. And he didn't even know. She chuckled quietly to herself as she skimmed the minds of those attending. The more powerful had shields, but the liquor was good, and even the most steady shields could slip. She digested her latest batch of information. It seems a werewolf lord was getting very angry with a vampire lord of higher status. This reeked of Drake's work, so she strolled over to defuse the situation, offering them each drinks and changing the topic to the latest scandal. As the tension eased she gently guided the werewolf to an attractive female of his own kind, that should distract him while she talked to the Vampire herself. "Entirely too easy," she thought to herself "Throw me a challenge Drake."

Being talked to by a very hopefull and clinging lady, who's name he had forgotten, he slowly responded, looking interested on the outside, his eyes never left the werewolf, whom he had slipped a few pieces of interesting rumors to. Of course, he hadn't know it was him. Looking over at the lady, he laughed of something, apparently, funny. Looking back his brow slowly creased, the werewolf was now talking to another of his kind.

Snarling slightly, his face went back to it's calm look, when an important older lady, who had tried to get him to marry her daughter, placed her hand on his arm. "Their highness, you should join us on a hunt sometime," she smiled fakely. Sighing, just as fakely, he took on a worried tone: "That would have been great, but a king has things to do."

Watching the lady loose her face a moment, before she looked sad. "What a shame." Raising from the table, he picked up his glass from the table. "I'm sorry my ladies and gentlemans, but I have to.. circulate," winking slightly at a, not so, attractive young lady, he left the board, walking towards the vampire the werewolf where intended to trouble.

Shraa felt the attention of the room shift as Drake decended from his throne to join them. She smoothly shifted to the side, so that not only could the Vampire now spot Drake, she could be given an excuse to do so as well. She looked up with an utterly guileless expression and pretended to catch sight of their king approaching. Biting back a smile, she courteously excused herself from the vampire lord so that he and Drake, for clearly Drake would have no interest in one as lowly as her, could speak. Blending back into the crowd she waited only a few feet away, to all appearances listening intently to a Vampire lady prattle on.

Appearing all calm on the outside, he stopped next to the vampire lord, who bowed to show gratitude. Inside he was fuming, he had actually made some efforst to get this on the road. Greeting the lord, his eyes darted to the people around them. Taking in their features, he finally eyed the vampire lord again.

Giving the conversation a little nudge, he watched as the vampire lord eager took it and started to chat. Nodding once in a while, he began listening to the others talks. He was totally sure the werewolf had been nearly roaring with anger, when he had left him. Which meant that somebody needed to talk him down and that could only have happened when he had looked away. Taking all that in, he could only come to one conclusion: The culprit needed to be somewhere near by.

Drake's sheilds were some of the strongest Shraa had ever encountered, she had never seen them slip, but she didn't like being this close to him for any amount of time, it was too potentially dangerous. She made a few passing comments on the conversation that she was nominally a part of, then tactfully excused herself to get drinks. This was the hardest part, acknowleding Drake without arousing his suspicions. She glanced at him, smiled, then continued on to the drink table as though it was truly a priority. There, respectful, but not too suspicious. "Make of it what you will Drake." she thought to herself with a chuckle "But I have done nothing wrong."

Giving up on finding the culprit, he finally acknowledged the male, who had talked non-stop the whole time. Noticing a movement out of his eye, he turned his head slightly to look at the blackhaired woman moving past him. Deciding he was bored, he quietly said his farewell with the vampire and heading after the woman, hiding in the crowd.

Reaching the drinktable, he carefully leaned up at a pillar. "Having fun?" He said, smiling kinda darkly. He could be a ladykiller, when he wanted to. It wasn't usual he tried, mostly because females bored him. Watching the female quite intensely, he held a good ear on the crowd.

Shraa looked up in surprise, was he onto her? She gave him a sly smile "But Sire, I am in your court, of course I am. Only one whose happiness we should be concerned with is yours." She winked at him as she selected a drink and sipped at it lightly, taking a step closer to him so that they converse without people walking between them. "So sire, are you having fun?"

Sighing inwardly, he smirked. "That's true, the only one really important here is me." To say he had fun would be the years misunderstanding, he was bored. He was so bored at the court and everything following with his job. Except the power of course. "Fun? Being a king is very hard, theres no time to... fun."

Creating mischief where fun, seeing fake people falling over themselves to get a bit of the cake was not. Just like making paperworks, listening to people complaining and the list went on. Apparently a king didn't have any sickdays, a fact there annoyed him pretty much. Of course he had been using his power to get outside nowadays, but it was growing boring too.

Shraa raised an eyebrow "It seems to me that as a king you should be able to make time for fun. Is your presence really required here at court? Surely it is not if there is something you would rather be doing..." She trailed off with a raised eyebrow. Half the fun of the court was being ambiguous! Let's see what he made of that.

Crossing his arm lazily, he just shrugged. "I wouldn't like to disappoint my people, would I?" Smiling just as lazily, he let a little more weigth onto the pillar. It frustrated him not to could remember her name. "I don't think we have met before, I'm sure I would have remembered such a pretty face, m'lady." Wincing inside over to use a title on somebody lower than him, he held the same lazy attitude.

Shraa smirked slightly as she sipped her drink again. She gave a slight curtsey as she said "Lady Shraa Tallmore of the lesser court your Magesty. It is of no surprise that you have never noticed one as lowly as me, for I do not actively try to curry your favor." She laughed a bit "The lower court suits me as well sire, as the upper court does you. And with all the pretty faces you see there I cannot imagine that mine would compare."

Laughing a little with her, his eyes danced content over her figure once. "Shouldn't a king worry about all his people high as low?" His libs turned upwards in a pleasant smile, with a hint of a challenge, though.

Shraa winked at him "The good ones do. Congratulations sire on proving yourself in that catagory once more." She glanced at the drink he was holding, the entire time she had been sipping hers he had not touched his. Not one to overindulge was their king. But it would not pay to be too observant. Instead she took a small step back to the refreshment table and picked up a delicate pastry that she proceeded to nibble on. "Come sire, will you not eat? All of this food is yours of course."

Smirking at the slight flattery, he looked at the table. It sure looked delightfull, but he had - in 10 minutes or more - been looking at old people stuffing their face. He was, not nearly vomitting, but had lost every hunger he might had. "It sure looks tasty, but I'm all full." He touched the glass with his other hand and slowly traced his fingers over it. His eyes stared down in the depths of the glass, before he looked up again.

Shraa raised an eyebrow, but it would be impolite to question, so she didn't. Instead she asked "What troubles your thoughts sire? You look... preoccupied, and not pleasantly so." She glanced around them, taking note of the amount of attention their conversation was attracting, a normal amount for anyone with whom the king was speaking. The room itself seemed to have fully settled into it's rhythms, with only a few discrepancies here and there. Nearby it seemed the Vampire was wandering dangerously close to the werewolf from before and her eyes narrowed. She could not politely excuse herself from Drake's company, she was effectively trapped as this played out.

"Oh, it's nothing you should worry about." Catching sight of the vampire lord, he showed off his perfect, white teeths in a smile. By the looks of it, he wouldn't bore himself anymore, if the werewolf rememebered their little... talk.

(( OOC: Okay... I am going to go and take a quick shower and read all of what has happened before making my first post. Thank you for Accepting me! ;D))

(( OOC: No problems ^^ ))