Creature(s) In The Shadows

The City of Blood and Wolves
Every city has a secret. A darker side, one hidden in secret and shadow. In this city, turning down the wrong alleyway could be the biggest mistake of your life. Will you fall victim to the City that Bleeds or are you one of the many residents that are helping run up the body count? Come to Covaire City, the City that Bleeds, and watch how quickly your heart begins to race in fear.
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Welcome to Covaire City, Victoria Brutale.


❝ Strength is the mark of a man, but loyalty is the mark of the beast. ❞

Name: Aidric Southfield
Species: Werewolf
Age: 47
Sexuality: Bisexual
Master of: -
Turn-Ons: Submission, bondage, innocence, obedience, youth.
Turn-Offs: Overly eager people, watersports/scat, dominance, disobedience, aggression, stupidity, reckless behavior.
Face Claim: JR Bourne 
✒ Background: Though Aidric’s change into a werewolf had never been a choice, he couldn’t imagine his life without it. It changed the very foundation of his being — turned him into the man that he is today.
Aidric lived a very mobile life growing up. His parents were always on the move. They taught him about guns — the different types, assembling them, using them properly, and shooting with a steady arm. It took Aidric a few years, but by the time he was fifteen, his parents finally saw him fit to let him in on the family secret. Not that Aidric was particularly surprised to find out that his parents were involved in a dangerous occupation (and one that didn’t pay well enough at that, considering how they lived out of their car on most nights), but werewolf hunters? Aidric wasn’t raised to believe in fairy tales. He didn’t understand why they expected him to change his mind on that before he had even figured out how to get a girl to kiss him.
They began taking him on their hunting trips, making him observe while they sought out entire packs to bring down. They and a few others would ambush werewolves — take them by surprise. The idea brought Aidric to sickness. He’d never been a sentimental boy, but he did know right from wrong, and slaughtering for the sake of it was wrong — even if they were werewolves.
When he brought these concerns to his parents, they chastised him. They said that werewolves were dangerous, and if they weren’t, then they wouldn’t be hunted. Aidric found it hard to believe at first, but as time moved on, he began to share their philosophy. Werewolves were dangerous. Why else would they promote the mass slaughtering of an entire species? It wasn’t long before Aidric was going on hunts with his family, putting his skill with guns to use. Most of his talent lay in distance, patiently watching through a scope for the enemy to emerge before putting a bullet in their head. That isn’t to say that he was incapable of closer distances, but his team put his strengths to use.
Somewhere down the lines, Aidric fell for a woman named Josephine. She hunted with his family on the regular, and despite being at least ten years younger than Aidric at the time, she was almost as equally skilled. He trained her to the best of his ability, teaching her the code of their group: Hunting only the dangerous wolves, and never leaving someone to die. When she asked what qualified as a dangerous wolf, Aidric had no answer. The seed of doubt should have been planted then, but it wasn’t. It hadn’t even occurred to him how heavily he had been brainwashed until seven years later, when he was forty-two.
It had been a particularly stressful hunt. The group was exhausted, dehydrated, and hungry. But they pushed on. Aidric settled himself up and away from pack of wolves as his group worked on their own skills for an ambush. He stared through the scope of the rifle and waited. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. He knew they could be waiting for hours before something happened, and just as he was getting ready to settle down and get used to the discomfort, he heard movement behind him.
One wolf had gone unaccounted for in their sweep, and it caused for Aidric to be blindsided. He tried to fight the wolf off, but to no avail. The gunshots and shouts alerted the group to trouble, and believing that their ambush had backfired, they ran, leaving Aidric to fend for himself. If he hadn’t pumped the wolf full of silver bullets, he surely would have died. As it was, when the wolf retreated, Aidric was left with nothing more than some scratches and a bite.
Aidric’s survival training hadn’t included how to handle situations on his own. No one went on a solo hunt, and no one returned without someone else. It was part of their code, and it had been strictly enforced. Of course, Aidric had never seen any of the other hunters get attacked like he had, so he had never seen that part of the code come into play. He figured that since no one had encountered that situation before, they were ill-prepared. So Aidric had been forced to fend for himself before he wound up back at the hotel they had been staying at — starving, dehydrated, and beyond exhausted.
He sought help, believing his friends would lend him assistance. But when he arrived with that bloody bite on his shoulder, even Josephine treated him with nothing but coldness. His own father said that the only way they could help him now was to “put him down,” as if he were some sort of rabid dog. Aidric protested, insisting that he wasn’t dangerous — that if the bite took, he would never lash out against others. That didn’t stop them. They knew that if Aidric had managed to survive the wildnerness on his own, bitten and injured, then the bite wouldn’t kill him. It would take. Aidric barely managed to escape, taking one of the group’s cars and speeding out of town until he had no clue where he was.
A full three years passed before Aidric resurfaced. He had been biding his time, tracking down the group of hunters that had preached one thing, but turned their back on not only their methods, but on Aidric. Aidric, who had trusted and believed them without a doubt. Aidric, who had been loyal to a fault. Aidric, who honestly believed that he had been doing the world some good by hunting what had been “dangerous.” Knowing that he had been lied to, Aidric came to the logical conclusion that he had slaughtered hundreds of innocent wolves. He spent months in mourning — and though he wasn’t much of a religious man, he prayed for forgiveness. He did whatever he could to feel some sort of redemption in himself. He became obsessed with making things right.
And when the time finally came, he sought out the group of hunters one more time, tracking them down to a small town in Minnesota. Aidric played his game as he was taught. He waited patiently, watching from a distance. With keen senses, he kept his gaze through the scope of a rifle and watched the people he thought had his back, waiting for the opportune moment.
Then, one by one, he fired bullet after bullet and brought them down. The only time he stopped was to watch the panicked frenzy Josephine put herself in as she tried to protect herself and her group. The hesitance hadn’t been for remorse. In fact, Aidric wanted to savor this death above all the others — the death of the one who betrayed him the most. When the last hunter fell, Aidric never looked back. He spent the next two years trying to redeem himself, living life through the eyes of a wolf. He killed the hypocrites that called themselves hunters — defenders, even.
Still believing he wasn’t worthy of forgiveness, Aidric sought out Covaire after hearing rumors of its existence. He didn’t want the protection — but he wanted to offer his own. He wanted to patrol the city’s boarders, making sure they remained safe. He knew how hunters worked from a very personal perspective, and he knew how to fight them better than the rest.
✒ Secret: Aidric’s loathing for what he’s done extends beyond the need for forgiveness. He hates not just his past, but who he is. He believes that his past as a hunter has tainted everything about him, and that it will be impossible to scrub his hands clean of the blood. Aidric considers his self-hatred a weakness, and would never inform anyone of this in the event they use it against him.
✒ Personality: Aidric’s work ethic is strong. Not a single moment goes by when he’s not thinking about the city and its well being. Every action he takes is dedicated to Covaire. His strong sense of professionalism can be a tough image to crack. He’s all work and no play. But underneath all of that, he’s a very stressed man, prone to his own self-destructive vices. Prone to beating himself down until he believes he’s scum, Aidric is in a constant state of inner turmoil. Rarely does this ever show through his tough exterior. To others, he’s nothing short of the hard-working man they see on a constant basis. He endures a majority of his struggle alone, knowing full well how people could use this weakness against him. The fact that he was betrayed by people so close to him only strengthens his distrust of others, leading him to believe that if he ever gets close to someone, he will suffer dearly for it. He keeps his distance, remaining unattached. Despite his disengagement from others, Aidric’s loyalty is unmatched. He admires his Alpha and would give his own life for him.
As a werewolf supremist, Aidric believes that his species triumphs above all others. He believes that his perspective as an ex-hunter only further strengthens his argument, because he knows precisely how difficult it is to bring a beast down. He knows the planning and dedication that goes into it. Aidric would take great pride in being a werewolf himself if he felt as if he deserved it. As it is, his pride comes from making the lives of the werewolves in Covaire easier by contributing to their safety.
❧ Open|| Reserved || Taken

❝ Strength is the mark of a man, but loyalty is the mark of the beast. ❞

  • Name: Aidric Southfield
  • Species: Werewolf
  • Age: 47
  • Sexuality: Bisexual
  • Master of: -
  • Turn-Ons: Submission, bondage, innocence, obedience, youth.
  • Turn-Offs: Overly eager people, watersports/scat, dominance, disobedience, aggression, stupidity, reckless behavior.
  • Face Claim: JR Bourne 

✒ Background: Though Aidric’s change into a werewolf had never been a choice, he couldn’t imagine his life without it. It changed the very foundation of his being — turned him into the man that he is today.

Aidric lived a very mobile life growing up. His parents were always on the move. They taught him about guns — the different types, assembling them, using them properly, and shooting with a steady arm. It took Aidric a few years, but by the time he was fifteen, his parents finally saw him fit to let him in on the family secret. Not that Aidric was particularly surprised to find out that his parents were involved in a dangerous occupation (and one that didn’t pay well enough at that, considering how they lived out of their car on most nights), but werewolf hunters? Aidric wasn’t raised to believe in fairy tales. He didn’t understand why they expected him to change his mind on that before he had even figured out how to get a girl to kiss him.

They began taking him on their hunting trips, making him observe while they sought out entire packs to bring down. They and a few others would ambush werewolves — take them by surprise. The idea brought Aidric to sickness. He’d never been a sentimental boy, but he did know right from wrong, and slaughtering for the sake of it was wrong — even if they were werewolves.

When he brought these concerns to his parents, they chastised him. They said that werewolves were dangerous, and if they weren’t, then they wouldn’t be hunted. Aidric found it hard to believe at first, but as time moved on, he began to share their philosophy. Werewolves were dangerous. Why else would they promote the mass slaughtering of an entire species? It wasn’t long before Aidric was going on hunts with his family, putting his skill with guns to use. Most of his talent lay in distance, patiently watching through a scope for the enemy to emerge before putting a bullet in their head. That isn’t to say that he was incapable of closer distances, but his team put his strengths to use.

Somewhere down the lines, Aidric fell for a woman named Josephine. She hunted with his family on the regular, and despite being at least ten years younger than Aidric at the time, she was almost as equally skilled. He trained her to the best of his ability, teaching her the code of their group: Hunting only the dangerous wolves, and never leaving someone to die. When she asked what qualified as a dangerous wolf, Aidric had no answer. The seed of doubt should have been planted then, but it wasn’t. It hadn’t even occurred to him how heavily he had been brainwashed until seven years later, when he was forty-two.

It had been a particularly stressful hunt. The group was exhausted, dehydrated, and hungry. But they pushed on. Aidric settled himself up and away from pack of wolves as his group worked on their own skills for an ambush. He stared through the scope of the rifle and waited. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. He knew they could be waiting for hours before something happened, and just as he was getting ready to settle down and get used to the discomfort, he heard movement behind him.

One wolf had gone unaccounted for in their sweep, and it caused for Aidric to be blindsided. He tried to fight the wolf off, but to no avail. The gunshots and shouts alerted the group to trouble, and believing that their ambush had backfired, they ran, leaving Aidric to fend for himself. If he hadn’t pumped the wolf full of silver bullets, he surely would have died. As it was, when the wolf retreated, Aidric was left with nothing more than some scratches and a bite.

Aidric’s survival training hadn’t included how to handle situations on his own. No one went on a solo hunt, and no one returned without someone else. It was part of their code, and it had been strictly enforced. Of course, Aidric had never seen any of the other hunters get attacked like he had, so he had never seen that part of the code come into play. He figured that since no one had encountered that situation before, they were ill-prepared. So Aidric had been forced to fend for himself before he wound up back at the hotel they had been staying at — starving, dehydrated, and beyond exhausted.

He sought help, believing his friends would lend him assistance. But when he arrived with that bloody bite on his shoulder, even Josephine treated him with nothing but coldness. His own father said that the only way they could help him now was to “put him down,” as if he were some sort of rabid dog. Aidric protested, insisting that he wasn’t dangerous — that if the bite took, he would never lash out against others. That didn’t stop them. They knew that if Aidric had managed to survive the wildnerness on his own, bitten and injured, then the bite wouldn’t kill him. It would take. Aidric barely managed to escape, taking one of the group’s cars and speeding out of town until he had no clue where he was.

A full three years passed before Aidric resurfaced. He had been biding his time, tracking down the group of hunters that had preached one thing, but turned their back on not only their methods, but on Aidric. Aidric, who had trusted and believed them without a doubt. Aidric, who had been loyal to a fault. Aidric, who honestly believed that he had been doing the world some good by hunting what had been “dangerous.” Knowing that he had been lied to, Aidric came to the logical conclusion that he had slaughtered hundreds of innocent wolves. He spent months in mourning — and though he wasn’t much of a religious man, he prayed for forgiveness. He did whatever he could to feel some sort of redemption in himself. He became obsessed with making things right.

And when the time finally came, he sought out the group of hunters one more time, tracking them down to a small town in Minnesota. Aidric played his game as he was taught. He waited patiently, watching from a distance. With keen senses, he kept his gaze through the scope of a rifle and watched the people he thought had his back, waiting for the opportune moment.

Then, one by one, he fired bullet after bullet and brought them down. The only time he stopped was to watch the panicked frenzy Josephine put herself in as she tried to protect herself and her group. The hesitance hadn’t been for remorse. In fact, Aidric wanted to savor this death above all the others — the death of the one who betrayed him the most. When the last hunter fell, Aidric never looked back. He spent the next two years trying to redeem himself, living life through the eyes of a wolf. He killed the hypocrites that called themselves hunters — defenders, even.

Still believing he wasn’t worthy of forgiveness, Aidric sought out Covaire after hearing rumors of its existence. He didn’t want the protection — but he wanted to offer his own. He wanted to patrol the city’s boarders, making sure they remained safe. He knew how hunters worked from a very personal perspective, and he knew how to fight them better than the rest.

✒ Secret: Aidric’s loathing for what he’s done extends beyond the need for forgiveness. He hates not just his past, but who he is. He believes that his past as a hunter has tainted everything about him, and that it will be impossible to scrub his hands clean of the blood. Aidric considers his self-hatred a weakness, and would never inform anyone of this in the event they use it against him.

✒ Personality: Aidric’s work ethic is strong. Not a single moment goes by when he’s not thinking about the city and its well being. Every action he takes is dedicated to Covaire. His strong sense of professionalism can be a tough image to crack. He’s all work and no play. But underneath all of that, he’s a very stressed man, prone to his own self-destructive vices. Prone to beating himself down until he believes he’s scum, Aidric is in a constant state of inner turmoil. Rarely does this ever show through his tough exterior. To others, he’s nothing short of the hard-working man they see on a constant basis. He endures a majority of his struggle alone, knowing full well how people could use this weakness against him. The fact that he was betrayed by people so close to him only strengthens his distrust of others, leading him to believe that if he ever gets close to someone, he will suffer dearly for it. He keeps his distance, remaining unattached. Despite his disengagement from others, Aidric’s loyalty is unmatched. He admires his Alpha and would give his own life for him.

As a werewolf supremist, Aidric believes that his species triumphs above all others. He believes that his perspective as an ex-hunter only further strengthens his argument, because he knows precisely how difficult it is to bring a beast down. He knows the planning and dedication that goes into it. Aidric would take great pride in being a werewolf himself if he felt as if he deserved it. As it is, his pride comes from making the lives of the werewolves in Covaire easier by contributing to their safety.

❧ Open|| Reserved || Taken


❝ Wolf is just a sugarcoated word for mongrel. ❞

Name: Dragos
Species: Vampire
Age: 1666
Sexuality: Omnisexual
Master: -
Turn-Ons: Violently aggressive sex, rough foreplay, blood, feeding while fucking, erotic asphyxiation, leaving bruises and other marks, body worship, cock worship, bondage (on partners), dirty talk, and essentially open to what isn’t listed in Offs.
Turn-Offs: Wolves, anything that implies being in bonds, attitude and defiance, clingy partners, fluff and gentility (confuses him), threesomes and orgies.
Face Claim: Kellan Lutz 
✒ Background: He was born in 348 AD in Acidava, Dacia., now known as Enosesti, Olt Country, Romania. They lived in close range to the Danube River and he came from a family of fishing vendors. Dragos had a healthy relationship with both parents, both loving and kind, but moreso with his mother. That became further apparent when his father volunteered for the Roman army. Dragos and his mother lived in constant worry and wonder if their patriarch would live and return to them, however they never let it keep them from living their lives. The two of them kept the family business going yet without his father, they didn’t catch as many fish. So to help pay for their living and home, his mother agreed to allow soldiers to stay. Only those who were injured or in need of rest stranded too far from home. Dragos witnessed his mother’s natural caretaking skills come to light. He helped as well, however he was far more interested in hearing stories of battle and of their homelands. One particular day of curiosity brought forth a sorrowful story. The soldier had unknowingly spoken of Dragos’ father’s death. His mother grieved upon hearing the news, and the words had the opposite effect on Dragos; He wanted revenge. 
The young teenager’s focus was put forth into building his skills and had many mentors in the soldiers who took rest under their roof. His mother was against his learning and if the need for vengeance hadn’t consumed him, Dragos would have listened to her. Year after year, he sparred with soldiers well and willing enough to do so. At 17, he made the journey to find the man in change of the great army. Many laughed at the boy for his insistence to join as they knew who his father was, however the commander was impressed and soon recruited Dragos. Under the commander’s tutelage, he fought well and hard, proving to be a determined, loyal asset for the army. The other soldiers often thought Dragos could not hear their jokes about his father, often speaking  as if he wouldn’t know what they were referring to, and never did he allow himself to react. Dragos only let their cruelty fuel his need for revenge, using it as inspiration on the battlefield. Fight after fight he proved to have much heart. “More heart than your father possessed,” the commander would comment, knowing Dragos would see the respect he held for his father. It both humbled and saddened him, but Dragos knew his father would be proud and honored. 
The Battle of Adrianople was waged when the army arrived in 378. Although at a poor disadvantage without supplies to keep them strong in heat bearing down upon them, Dragos was determined to keep fighting. He would not die in war like his father. Soon though, he would mourn the loss of his commander. It didn’t occur to Dragos that without the word of the fallen commander to protect him, that he would be at the mercy of the other soldiers. And after the Battle of Constantinople, the other men turned on him. Dragos had no knowledge of where they had taken him, but there were others captured beside him. Bound in chains, Dragos listened while the strange cultists spoke of how they killed his father with the aid of the traitorous soldiers. The leader of the following told Dragos that he was far too pretty to be killed needlessly and would instead be used as a slave for tasks about camp ranging from cleaning to sex if the men so desired. Dragos would have rather fought to the death than abide by the ruling of the man, however he knew he was in no position to defend himself. Setting aside his pride, he accepted his fate. The menial chores bothered him little, however when he was used for sex it was overly rough and one-sided. Many nights were spent hidden in shame as he brought himself to release, the aching of constant denial too much to endure. 
The better part of a month passed, yet Dragos still was unaccustomed to the way things were. But as the full moon rose, he saw for himself what was so different about his captors. Before his very eyes, they turned into beasts; Wolves that howled for the moon and left to slaughter under the light that controlled them. It was clear as it was terrifying because he knew the truth, and the wolves used his fear to ensure he never disobey. Dragos felt weak but he didn’t dare trying to fight their demands even if it meant his own pain. They overpowered him far too easily and so he believed there was no hope in ever breaking free. Dragos’ luck changed one night, and while he was fetching water from the well he was approached by a mysterious woman. She was nothing like his captors, her touch too cold when the wolves was warm, sometimes burning hot. The lady was curious, asking many questions, but Dragos had lost his friendly touch, offering little conversation. Yet when Dragos turned to go inside, the stranger was on him so fast attacking . Left to writhe in agony, Dragos knew he could have offered her kindness and avoided his fate. Stumbling in, the bite was spotted right off and in a blur he was taken to the torture chamber where they unleashed a level of violence they never did before. Bringing him to the point of begging, they wanted Dragos to know without any doubt that if any rebellion or escape occurred they would track him down and kill him as they should have in the first place. 
Century after century passed for Dragos as he was made to endlessly serve the wolves, who only became more harsh as time went on, to keep fresh the fear and obedience embedded in his mind. On some occasions he would be left chained, kept from feeding for countless days. It was a means to torment other servants and if they starved Dragos long enough, they knew the vampire would drain the one thrown at him without thought. Many times he wished hunger would take him to his grave but never was he that fortunate. The centuries droned on and Dragos met each one with new vervain-laced scars that would never heal to always remind him what he was and who he served. The day he finally lost hope was the day that everything changed. A mercenary wolf arrived, hired to do work for the pack  and was in turn refused payment for his services. As the wolf left in a fury, Dragos was discreetly tipped off that there was a sword nearby left unattended. It seemed so crazy at first, to go for the sword and kill his way out when all Dragos knew was that he would never succeed and die trying. It was then or never. In the end it was easier than he thought, cutting through the wolves like it was nothing. Dragos gorged himself in the bloodshed, draining at least two of the wolves and decapitating all those near at hand with a single slash. No time was wasted as his supernatural speed took him into the night, yet no matter how long he searched there was no sign of the one who gave him the chance at freedom. 
Dragos went into hiding and managed to stay out of sight in his travels for years. He ventured to places he only dreamed about before, seeing sights never before imagined. Returning to where he was born was far from an option as he knew the wolf pack had a far reach and he would not be safe. Dragos needed to get far and fast. Stowing away on the next ship to America covered in a stolen cloak, Dragos set off to a new life. Docking in New York, he never stayed in one place too long. He stuck out no matter where he was as he remained set in old times and made his money on an old trade along the coasts; Fishing. He fashioned a home within the boat he used with the thought it would be a quick and easy getaway should the need arise. It was only by the currents of the ocean and following the Eastern Coast that he came to find Covaire. Buying his way into the city from the harbor, Dragos wandered the streets in awe that was unmatched by any he had felt before. There was a vampire king, a wolf Alpha, and many humans coexisting amidst the city walls. His initial intention was to stay just long enough to raid the waters for fish, sell, and leave to the next town but it was far from simple as that. Dragos didn’t like that the wolf pack was so strong in numbers but there was an undeniable magnetic force keeping him there. Some part of himself could truly see staying longer than he’d stayed before in one place.
✒ Secret: Much in the same way that soldiers are profoundly affected after wars, Dragos still experiences occasional post-traumatic stress. Certain things trigger him and he suddenly doesn’t know where he is and thinks everyone around him is against him. There are also instances when he still has the servant frame of mind and a panicked hysteria briefly overcomes him as if believing he should be offering his services less their be hell to pay. It fades away just as quickly and he feels disgust that such old memories still have a grasp on him.
✒ Personality: The wear and tear over the many centuries that he endured at the hands of the wolves has made Dragos a vile creature. He cares nothing for anyone else and has little to no feelings or emotions other than hostility and grudge. Being a vampire doesn’t bother him, but the unnaturalness of living forever pulls at him once in awhile. Living forever is monotonous, but then with passing time he knows he gets stronger. His body is riddled with scars and none of them are anything Dragos is ashamed of, truly making him an example of “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” For someone who seems like he has a ticking time bomb for a temper, he’s much more responsible and rational than many assume. One still should be mindful, his patience and humor only lasts so long before annoyance takes place. Dragos harbors pure loathing for wolves, limitless and irrational as it may seem, it has spread to a species-wide grudge against the beasts. There’s nothing about them he enjoys aside from their warmth, yet even that unsettles him with the memory of what was usually paired with it. Smart as he is strong, most of what he does is premeditated. Never does Dragos go into something blindly. He’s unforgiving and mean as the most poisonous of snakes.
❧ Open|| Reserved || Taken

❝ Wolf is just a sugarcoated word for mongrel. ❞

  • Name: Dragos
  • Species: Vampire
  • Age: 1666
  • Sexuality: Omnisexual
  • Master: -
  • Turn-Ons: Violently aggressive sex, rough foreplay, blood, feeding while fucking, erotic asphyxiation, leaving bruises and other marks, body worship, cock worship, bondage (on partners), dirty talk, and essentially open to what isn’t listed in Offs.
  • Turn-Offs: Wolves, anything that implies being in bonds, attitude and defiance, clingy partners, fluff and gentility (confuses him), threesomes and orgies.
  • Face Claim: Kellan Lutz 

✒ Background: He was born in 348 AD in Acidava, Dacia., now known as Enosesti, Olt Country, Romania. They lived in close range to the Danube River and he came from a family of fishing vendors. Dragos had a healthy relationship with both parents, both loving and kind, but moreso with his mother. That became further apparent when his father volunteered for the Roman army. Dragos and his mother lived in constant worry and wonder if their patriarch would live and return to them, however they never let it keep them from living their lives. The two of them kept the family business going yet without his father, they didn’t catch as many fish. So to help pay for their living and home, his mother agreed to allow soldiers to stay. Only those who were injured or in need of rest stranded too far from home. Dragos witnessed his mother’s natural caretaking skills come to light. He helped as well, however he was far more interested in hearing stories of battle and of their homelands. One particular day of curiosity brought forth a sorrowful story. The soldier had unknowingly spoken of Dragos’ father’s death. His mother grieved upon hearing the news, and the words had the opposite effect on Dragos; He wanted revenge. 

The young teenager’s focus was put forth into building his skills and had many mentors in the soldiers who took rest under their roof. His mother was against his learning and if the need for vengeance hadn’t consumed him, Dragos would have listened to her. Year after year, he sparred with soldiers well and willing enough to do so. At 17, he made the journey to find the man in change of the great army. Many laughed at the boy for his insistence to join as they knew who his father was, however the commander was impressed and soon recruited Dragos. Under the commander’s tutelage, he fought well and hard, proving to be a determined, loyal asset for the army. The other soldiers often thought Dragos could not hear their jokes about his father, often speaking  as if he wouldn’t know what they were referring to, and never did he allow himself to react. Dragos only let their cruelty fuel his need for revenge, using it as inspiration on the battlefield. Fight after fight he proved to have much heart. “More heart than your father possessed,” the commander would comment, knowing Dragos would see the respect he held for his father. It both humbled and saddened him, but Dragos knew his father would be proud and honored. 

The Battle of Adrianople was waged when the army arrived in 378. Although at a poor disadvantage without supplies to keep them strong in heat bearing down upon them, Dragos was determined to keep fighting. He would not die in war like his father. Soon though, he would mourn the loss of his commander. It didn’t occur to Dragos that without the word of the fallen commander to protect him, that he would be at the mercy of the other soldiers. And after the Battle of Constantinople, the other men turned on him. Dragos had no knowledge of where they had taken him, but there were others captured beside him. Bound in chains, Dragos listened while the strange cultists spoke of how they killed his father with the aid of the traitorous soldiers. The leader of the following told Dragos that he was far too pretty to be killed needlessly and would instead be used as a slave for tasks about camp ranging from cleaning to sex if the men so desired. Dragos would have rather fought to the death than abide by the ruling of the man, however he knew he was in no position to defend himself. Setting aside his pride, he accepted his fate. The menial chores bothered him little, however when he was used for sex it was overly rough and one-sided. Many nights were spent hidden in shame as he brought himself to release, the aching of constant denial too much to endure. 

The better part of a month passed, yet Dragos still was unaccustomed to the way things were. But as the full moon rose, he saw for himself what was so different about his captors. Before his very eyes, they turned into beasts; Wolves that howled for the moon and left to slaughter under the light that controlled them. It was clear as it was terrifying because he knew the truth, and the wolves used his fear to ensure he never disobey. Dragos felt weak but he didn’t dare trying to fight their demands even if it meant his own pain. They overpowered him far too easily and so he believed there was no hope in ever breaking free. Dragos’ luck changed one night, and while he was fetching water from the well he was approached by a mysterious woman. She was nothing like his captors, her touch too cold when the wolves was warm, sometimes burning hot. The lady was curious, asking many questions, but Dragos had lost his friendly touch, offering little conversation. Yet when Dragos turned to go inside, the stranger was on him so fast attacking . Left to writhe in agony, Dragos knew he could have offered her kindness and avoided his fate. Stumbling in, the bite was spotted right off and in a blur he was taken to the torture chamber where they unleashed a level of violence they never did before. Bringing him to the point of begging, they wanted Dragos to know without any doubt that if any rebellion or escape occurred they would track him down and kill him as they should have in the first place. 

Century after century passed for Dragos as he was made to endlessly serve the wolves, who only became more harsh as time went on, to keep fresh the fear and obedience embedded in his mind. On some occasions he would be left chained, kept from feeding for countless days. It was a means to torment other servants and if they starved Dragos long enough, they knew the vampire would drain the one thrown at him without thought. Many times he wished hunger would take him to his grave but never was he that fortunate. The centuries droned on and Dragos met each one with new vervain-laced scars that would never heal to always remind him what he was and who he served. The day he finally lost hope was the day that everything changed. A mercenary wolf arrived, hired to do work for the pack  and was in turn refused payment for his services. As the wolf left in a fury, Dragos was discreetly tipped off that there was a sword nearby left unattended. It seemed so crazy at first, to go for the sword and kill his way out when all Dragos knew was that he would never succeed and die trying. It was then or never. In the end it was easier than he thought, cutting through the wolves like it was nothing. Dragos gorged himself in the bloodshed, draining at least two of the wolves and decapitating all those near at hand with a single slash. No time was wasted as his supernatural speed took him into the night, yet no matter how long he searched there was no sign of the one who gave him the chance at freedom. 

Dragos went into hiding and managed to stay out of sight in his travels for years. He ventured to places he only dreamed about before, seeing sights never before imagined. Returning to where he was born was far from an option as he knew the wolf pack had a far reach and he would not be safe. Dragos needed to get far and fast. Stowing away on the next ship to America covered in a stolen cloak, Dragos set off to a new life. Docking in New York, he never stayed in one place too long. He stuck out no matter where he was as he remained set in old times and made his money on an old trade along the coasts; Fishing. He fashioned a home within the boat he used with the thought it would be a quick and easy getaway should the need arise. It was only by the currents of the ocean and following the Eastern Coast that he came to find Covaire. Buying his way into the city from the harbor, Dragos wandered the streets in awe that was unmatched by any he had felt before. There was a vampire king, a wolf Alpha, and many humans coexisting amidst the city walls. His initial intention was to stay just long enough to raid the waters for fish, sell, and leave to the next town but it was far from simple as that. Dragos didn’t like that the wolf pack was so strong in numbers but there was an undeniable magnetic force keeping him there. Some part of himself could truly see staying longer than he’d stayed before in one place.

✒ Secret: Much in the same way that soldiers are profoundly affected after wars, Dragos still experiences occasional post-traumatic stress. Certain things trigger him and he suddenly doesn’t know where he is and thinks everyone around him is against him. There are also instances when he still has the servant frame of mind and a panicked hysteria briefly overcomes him as if believing he should be offering his services less their be hell to pay. It fades away just as quickly and he feels disgust that such old memories still have a grasp on him.

✒ Personality: The wear and tear over the many centuries that he endured at the hands of the wolves has made Dragos a vile creature. He cares nothing for anyone else and has little to no feelings or emotions other than hostility and grudge. Being a vampire doesn’t bother him, but the unnaturalness of living forever pulls at him once in awhile. Living forever is monotonous, but then with passing time he knows he gets stronger. His body is riddled with scars and none of them are anything Dragos is ashamed of, truly making him an example of “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” For someone who seems like he has a ticking time bomb for a temper, he’s much more responsible and rational than many assume. One still should be mindful, his patience and humor only lasts so long before annoyance takes place. Dragos harbors pure loathing for wolves, limitless and irrational as it may seem, it has spread to a species-wide grudge against the beasts. There’s nothing about them he enjoys aside from their warmth, yet even that unsettles him with the memory of what was usually paired with it. Smart as he is strong, most of what he does is premeditated. Never does Dragos go into something blindly. He’s unforgiving and mean as the most poisonous of snakes.

❧ Open|| Reserved || Taken


❝ There comes a point in a man’s life when he has to take a step back and just say….fuck it. ❞

Name: Matt Powell
Species: Human
Age: 37
Sexuality: Bisexual  (prefers women)
Slave of: -
Turn-Ons: Rough sex, oral (giving/receiving), anal, orgasm denial, bondage, being dominant, submissives.
Turn-Offs: Dominant woman, dominat man, being submissive, humiliation, scat, pegging
Face Claim: Bradley Cooper
✒ Background: Born in the fall of 1976, Matt Powell was the first child born to an upper middle class family living in the suburbs of Pittsburgh. When Matt was two, his family welcomed his little brother Mike. The moment his brother was born, Matt’s parents found a competitive edge forming even in a kid as young as Matt was. This would continue on as the boys grew up, especially when it came to sports. Football was Matt’s forte, playing the sport from pee-wee all the way through high school. His brother Mike was more apt to the sport of baseball, the star pitcher that led his high school team to be state champions.
When it came to college, both ended up at Penn State University which was several hours away from his parents. During Matt’s senior year of college, his father suffered a heart attack which led to his little brother transferring to a college closer to home, ultimately giving up his dream of playing in the major leagues  to help take care of his mom. With only a few weeks left before he graduated, Matt stayed at Penn State. Once he graduated, his mother and brother put pressure on him to move back to Pittsburgh but Matt had other plans.
Finding a job at one of the country’s biggest financial firms in New York City, he left the state of Pennsylvania for good. Matt’s personality and sharp mind led him to a promotion two years after starting at the firm. His paycheck grew substantially and he was soon living quite the life in the big city. When he met a girl at local bar named Lisa, the two instantly hit it off. While he wasn’t ready for committing before that point, Lisa was too good to let get away.  Life seemed to be going in the right direction, meanwhile, his contact with his mom and brother became less and less.
He and Lisa ended up eloping after three years in Niagra Falls. Two years after that, they welcomed a baby girl named Ella. With a new child in their lives, apartment living seemed to be difficult. They invested then in a brownstone in Brooklyn and it was the stress that came with the family life that took Matt to find a new hobby, which ended up being gambling. Card games with his coworkers once a week turned into games with strangers several nights a week. He was good at it and made good money, but his home life was slowly starting to fall apart. His wife was always threatening to leave him, Matt always making promises he couldn’t seem to keep to fix things.
One night, Matt was at an underground card game when he received a frantic call from a neighbor. There had been a gas leak in the building resulting in an explosion, Lisa and Ella didn’t survive.  The event sent Matt in a downward spiral, ditching work for endless card games, gambling away what money he had. Calls from his brother and mother were never returned and after two years, Matt was completely broke.
Making promises of payment with money he didn’t have, Matt made himself a target to many. One of those men happened to have a connection to a city that Matt could only believe if he saw it, and it was only a matter of time before he did. Thrown in a black van after not paying up to a very greedy wolf, the broken human was shipped to Covaire.
✒ Secret: After he ran out of money, Matt found himself giving sexual favors for money. It was his lowest moment but also woke up a part of him that he didn’t know existed, that he enjoyed men. He found himself seeking it out more, not just for the money but how much he enjoyed dominating those of the same gender.
When one of these men threatened to out him after a heated argument about payment,  Matt strangled him, leaving him near death in an alley.
✒ Personality: Matt is very charismatic and loves to make people laugh. He himself can be incredibly charming and flirtatious, always knowing the right things to say to feed a woman or man’s ego. It’s this personality that got him so far in life but the darker parts of him are what eventually had him sent to Covaire.
The darkness  was fueled by greed and was only made stronger when he lost his wife and daughter. He savors domination and telling others what to do, making them putty in his hands, especially in the bedroom. It’s as if a switch flips when he feels threatened or strangely enough turned on that brings this on.
❧ Open|| Reserved || Taken

❝ There comes a point in a man’s life when he has to take a step back and just say….fuck it. ❞

  • Name: Matt Powell
  • Species: Human
  • Age: 37
  • Sexuality: Bisexual  (prefers women)
  • Slave of: -
  • Turn-Ons: Rough sex, oral (giving/receiving), anal, orgasm denial, bondage, being dominant, submissives.
  • Turn-Offs: Dominant woman, dominat man, being submissive, humiliation, scat, pegging
  • Face Claim: Bradley Cooper

✒ Background: Born in the fall of 1976, Matt Powell was the first child born to an upper middle class family living in the suburbs of Pittsburgh. When Matt was two, his family welcomed his little brother Mike. The moment his brother was born, Matt’s parents found a competitive edge forming even in a kid as young as Matt was. This would continue on as the boys grew up, especially when it came to sports. Football was Matt’s forte, playing the sport from pee-wee all the way through high school. His brother Mike was more apt to the sport of baseball, the star pitcher that led his high school team to be state champions.

When it came to college, both ended up at Penn State University which was several hours away from his parents. During Matt’s senior year of college, his father suffered a heart attack which led to his little brother transferring to a college closer to home, ultimately giving up his dream of playing in the major leagues  to help take care of his mom. With only a few weeks left before he graduated, Matt stayed at Penn State. Once he graduated, his mother and brother put pressure on him to move back to Pittsburgh but Matt had other plans.

Finding a job at one of the country’s biggest financial firms in New York City, he left the state of Pennsylvania for good. Matt’s personality and sharp mind led him to a promotion two years after starting at the firm. His paycheck grew substantially and he was soon living quite the life in the big city. When he met a girl at local bar named Lisa, the two instantly hit it off. While he wasn’t ready for committing before that point, Lisa was too good to let get away.  Life seemed to be going in the right direction, meanwhile, his contact with his mom and brother became less and less.

He and Lisa ended up eloping after three years in Niagra Falls. Two years after that, they welcomed a baby girl named Ella. With a new child in their lives, apartment living seemed to be difficult. They invested then in a brownstone in Brooklyn and it was the stress that came with the family life that took Matt to find a new hobby, which ended up being gambling. Card games with his coworkers once a week turned into games with strangers several nights a week. He was good at it and made good money, but his home life was slowly starting to fall apart. His wife was always threatening to leave him, Matt always making promises he couldn’t seem to keep to fix things.

One night, Matt was at an underground card game when he received a frantic call from a neighbor. There had been a gas leak in the building resulting in an explosion, Lisa and Ella didn’t survive.  The event sent Matt in a downward spiral, ditching work for endless card games, gambling away what money he had. Calls from his brother and mother were never returned and after two years, Matt was completely broke.

Making promises of payment with money he didn’t have, Matt made himself a target to many. One of those men happened to have a connection to a city that Matt could only believe if he saw it, and it was only a matter of time before he did. Thrown in a black van after not paying up to a very greedy wolf, the broken human was shipped to Covaire.

✒ Secret: After he ran out of money, Matt found himself giving sexual favors for money. It was his lowest moment but also woke up a part of him that he didn’t know existed, that he enjoyed men. He found himself seeking it out more, not just for the money but how much he enjoyed dominating those of the same gender.

When one of these men threatened to out him after a heated argument about payment,  Matt strangled him, leaving him near death in an alley.

✒ Personality: Matt is very charismatic and loves to make people laugh. He himself can be incredibly charming and flirtatious, always knowing the right things to say to feed a woman or man’s ego. It’s this personality that got him so far in life but the darker parts of him are what eventually had him sent to Covaire.

The darkness  was fueled by greed and was only made stronger when he lost his wife and daughter. He savors domination and telling others what to do, making them putty in his hands, especially in the bedroom. It’s as if a switch flips when he feels threatened or strangely enough turned on that brings this on.

❧ Open|| Reserved || Taken

Welcome to Covaire City, Neil Bedford.

Welcome to Covaire City, Jessa Darin.

Name: Victoria Brutale
Species: Human
Age: 29
Sexuality: Pansexual
Turn-Ons: Dominance, confidence, biting, slapping/spanking, orgasm control/denial, both tender and rough sex, public sex, possessiveness.
Turn-Offs: Bad hygiene, humiliation, vulgar language, non-con, rape, stupidity.
Face Claim: Natalie Dormer[[MORE]]
Background: Born in the city of Covaire, Victoria became the daughter of Dr. Phil and Gina Brutale. With Phil being a skilled surgeon and Gina a nurse, it wasn’t hard to guess as to what kind of a path their little offspring would be made to walk down on later in life, too.
Due to the fact that they were merely a bunch of human civilians residing amongst an ever-growing population of supernatural creatures, perfection and efficiency embodied vital elements for the Brutale family in regards to their survival. Flaws were out of the question, for flaws portrayed mistakes. And usually, mistakes resulted into failure and death. Therefore, from the time she was old enough to walk, Victoria was handed off to governesses and tutors galore and made to study all sorts of arts, both based in home making and academics. Hence, for the most part of her life, she had dedicated herself to studying and preparing herself to become an aspiring doctor, always made aware of her position within society, and that if she failed to show her worth, she could be stripped off of it.
The years went by, and to the time of her twenty-eighth year of age, the blonde could finally start to pursue the career of a legitimate medic. Throughout the time span of her first twelve months, she was able to unfurl splendid abilities and received accordingly a lot of recognition. In a nutshell, everything seemed to work out well for her - which was true; true, until she had to face the probably most difficult and also last surgery case of her life.
That day, a patient carrying the title of a Master, was sent to the ER. Thanks to an unfortunate encounter with a hunter who was specalized in killing werewolves, he suffered from life threatening injuries caused by a shotgun loaded with shots made out of silver and was close to the brink of death. In fact, a pellet which was lodged in his torso appeared to be in the process of migrating to his heart. With Victoria having been the closest doctor present to that time, she had to perform surgery on him. If the circumstances would have been different, she would have probably managed it to do it smoothly. But thanks to excessive lack of sleep and concentration (she had celebrated her twenty-ninth birthday the previous night), the young adult made a tremendous mistake which could have been avoided and failed to remove the pellet in time; the Master died.
Eventually, the case was brought to the Dominion. And after several trials, it was decided that punishment for Victoria was unavoidable. Her medical licence was taken away from her, and a day afterwards, she found herself in the Chateau; not as Dr. Victoria Brutale, but as Victoria the slave.
Secret: Approximately one week after having been forced into the arms of slavery, Victoria caught wind that her parents had moved out of town, leaving her behind without a word. Even though the three of them never seemed to have shared a close bond (at least not on mutual terms), the news came as a shock to her and the blonde felt devastated. As a matter of fact, even though she profusely tried to convince herself of otherwise again and again, in a twisted and unhealthy way, she had developed romantic feelings for her father. Thus, his blatant and evident rejection of her by abandoning her literally killed her. As a result, in the frenzy of a moment during her first rental, Vic tried to commit suicide caused by the pressure of her whole life collapsing together, but was prevented from doing it shortly before possible.
Personality: Formerly, Victoria was the epitome of ethereal amongst her fellow civillians, skilled and demure, causing for an elegant allure as she followed the strict code of what she was taught and made to believe by her parents. With time, she had blossomed into a being of calculating, mature and smart nature. Albeit mostly distant, she was a friendly woman with big dreams and goals, always striving forward ambitious and self-confident. Quite strongly, she held her family in high regard and had a passion for life.
Ever since the surgery incident however, she doesn’t appear to be the same person who she once was anymore. Her lively glow has vanished, and where there once was happiness is now unhappiness and insecurity. As a result, acrimony and regret have become solid constants of her life; mostly deriving from the fact that she had been pushed into becoming an adult way too soon, her time as a kid nearly nonexistent. For Victoria, there are no nostalgic memories to reminisce in except the times her father praised her for her hard work. Hence, now that she has been stripped off of the only thing that seemed to have connected her to him, she feels doomed.
Yet, she remains respectful and polite, knowing full well that it was her own doing that had caused for her to end up within the walls of the Chateau. Charismatic and witty for the sake of staying alive, she does everything to uphold a strong facade and strives for survival, regardless of the means necessary. Further, she isn’t one to dilly dally about nonsense and frivolous girly ramblings, but rather, if seeking an amicable, yet playful and interesting conversation, she is certainly the girl to single out.


Quote: “Eventually, everything goes away.”
  • Name: Victoria Brutale
  • Species: Human
  • Age: 29
  • Sexuality: Pansexual
  • Turn-Ons: Dominance, confidence, biting, slapping/spanking, orgasm control/denial, both tender and rough sex, public sex, possessiveness.
  • Turn-Offs: Bad hygiene, humiliation, vulgar language, non-con, rape, stupidity.
  • Face Claim: Natalie Dormer

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Name: Jessa Darin
Species: Werewolf (Omega)
Age: 25
Sexuality: Bisexual
Turn-Ons:  Biting, blindfolds, bondage (light), dark hair, dominance, humor, sensory deprivation.
Turn-Offs: Anything involving bodily functions or blood, dirty talk, needy people, people who cave easily, weakness.
Face Claim: Jenna Dewan-Tatum[[MORE]]
Background: Life was always easy for little Jessa Darin, even when it wasn’t. She just knew how to make the best of every situation. As a child she never got to spend much time with her parents. Her mother was off killing monsters and her father off killing people for a profit. She took this in stride, convincing her parents to teach her more about their professions whenever they were home. By the time she was thirteen, Jessa was capable of bringing down a two hundred pound man in a fight. She was trained on every weapon her parents knew how to use and was a force to be reckoned with. For being the child, Jessa commanded most of the power in her household, she rarely did as she was told and refused to remain in the care of a nanny passed the age of nine. She learned how to fend for herself and refused to take any help that was offered. 
Throughout her high school years, teachers voiced their concern for the girl with the absent parents. She was always angry and had absolutely no friends. When her parents finally made an appearance to discuss their daughter’s lack of school spirit and extra curricular activities, they dismissed all of the claims, that’s just how Jessa was. When she turned sixteen it was like a turning point in her life. Her father was out on an assignment when he became the target. He loaded up his family and shipped them away to his Russian homeland. It was like a poorly written action movie, at least that’s what she thought. She lived with her grandparents while her mother returned to America to aide her father, but Jessa knew it was far too late to help him. He was no doubt dead the day they left. Hitman never missed a target. When she was proven right, she was hauled back to America with her mother, settling in the middle of nowhere Oklahoma. It was a charmed life out in the country, where no one could reach her. She tossed her dreams of being like her father out the window, hell, being like her mother wasn’t exactly the dream job either. She liked the idea of being unknown, living in the middle of nowhere, but the silence drove her insane.
She graduated from high school early and fled to New York City for a career in journalism. It could offer her excitement and the serenity she desired. Her mother stopped by from time to time, usually on hunting trips, but for the most part Jessa was alone. She was just getting into the swing of being normal when her mother showed up asking for help. There was a werewolf problem within the city and she needed help. Reluctantly Jessa agreed to help her mother and in turn was mauled by a wolf. Somehow she managed to survive, but part of her wished she hadn’t. She’d become the very monster her mother was hunting. She refused to tell her mother what happened and simply stopped contacting her, letting her think she’d died in the attack. It took a while, but she finally got back into the swing of things, she even managed to graduate and earn herself a job at a small scale newspaper as a journalist. 
It only took a few years for Jessa’s boredom to grow. Without a second thought, she quit the paper, settling on a life as a drifter. She could find her mother, confess she’d been alive this entire time, but that would mean more unneeded mother/daughter bonding time. No. She was not willing to torture herself into that, but the idea of hunting again peaked her interest. Calling on an old friend of the family, she confessed everything to him. From the attack to the changes that take place every month. He listened carefully, but Jessa was almost certain he was going to turn his weapon on her right then. To her surprise, he didn’t. He offered her help, confessing that he too had retired from hunting for the same reason. Together they hunted, turning their attentions to the vampiric community, but kept a careful eye on their own kind. 
It was only a few months into their new partnership when everything changed. A clan of vampires they had planned on exterminating was ambushed by pack of wolves the moon before their attack. Jessa, using her new wolf status to her advantage, approached the group and told them the story of her and the man she was hunting with — leaving out the small detail about still hunting wolves — and how they were new to this whole ‘being a wolf’ thing. Reluctantly, the pack accepted them, teaching them the ‘way of the wolf’. Still, there were those who didn’t trust the hunters and, to ensure the safety of their family, sent Jessa to Covaire City where she was doomed to a life of a slave.
Secret: While she was thankful for the pack taking her in, she had no intentions of ever staying with them. Her true reasoning for seeking their help was to infiltrate the pack and tear it apart from the inside out. The newest of strategies she and her partner were working on — and it was working, until one of the beta’s discovered her true intentions and sold her to the Chateau. Knowing it would be too dangerous to confess herself a traitor to any of the wolves in Covaire, she simply made up a story about a jealous pack mate, eager to get rid of the competition. 
Personality: Jessa Darin is everything a good slave isn’t. She’s loud, opinionated and has an overall bratty personality. There’s no filter that tells her when to shut her mouth, so she says the first thing that comes to her mind — which is rarely nice. Being raised by hunters, mostly men, she’s never been the ‘girly’ girl, so she’s anything but ladylike.  She lives for the fight, it’s all she’s ever known, and she is in no way ready to give it up. That’s not to say she doesn’t have that sweeter, kinder side. It’s buried down deep, right next to the girl who cares what other people think about her.


Quote: “Hold on, I’m looking for a fuck to give.”
  • Name: Jessa Darin
  • Species: Werewolf (Omega)
  • Age: 25
  • Sexuality: Bisexual
  • Turn-Ons:  Biting, blindfolds, bondage (light), dark hair, dominance, humor, sensory deprivation.
  • Turn-Offs: Anything involving bodily functions or blood, dirty talk, needy people, people who cave easily, weakness.
  • Face Claim: Jenna Dewan-Tatum

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Welcome to Covaire City, Kira Sadana

Welcome to Covaire City, Lorcán 'Mal' O'Malley.

Name: Neil Bedford
Species: Human
Age: 24
Sexuality: Homoflexible (will sleep with women if it’s worth his while)
Turn-Ons: Rough Sex, Light Bondage, Blood play, Dominance, Power-play, fighting for dominance, wit, rimming (giving & receiving), anal (giving and receiving), voyeurism, marking, biting, muscle worship, edging.
Turn-Offs: Bad Hygiene, Humiliation, feminization, humans, watersports, scat, hardcore bdsm.
Face Claim: Alex Pettyfer[[MORE]]
Background: Contrary to what he might have you believe, Neil wasn’t brought up in the lap of luxury. He wasn’t fed with a silver spoon and truth be told wasn’t raised accustomed to getting his way. Being born as the youngest of 4 boys to a pair who had no business having one child, let alone four, his life from the beginning was an uphill battle. His mother, while a gentle soul, was a weak willed and scared woman, and his father even more so, with a violent streak and an addiction to alcohol. He spent his childhood feeling helpless, dependent, and lost, three things he hated more than anything else. So when he was 13 years old and watched his mother walk out, leaving him with his three brothers and violent father, he was heartbroken. 
As traumatizing as it was to watch his mother give up on his family, give up on him, it taught Neil a valuable lesson. It taught him to never trust people, to only rely on himself, and as far as he was concerned it was the best lesson he could have ever learned. His father grew more angry, more violent after his mother left, and as time went on Neil became more guarded, and began to use his head as a means of survival. Being the youngest, it was easier for him slip into the background, forcing his brothers to get the brunt of the dysfunction. Neil learned to manipulate not only his drunk father, but his brother’s as well, all while he simply focused on getting out. And he did. At sixteen years old, he graduated from high school and emancipated himself from his father, his family.As big of a step as that might have been, the next challenge of course would be simply surviving. It was hard to make a living as a sixteen year old, even with a high school diploma. Eventually Neil simply resorted to any means necessary to get cash. Whether it was selling weed off the streets, hustling drunks at pool, pick pocketing wallets, and orchestrating few low grade street cons, he did what he needed to do to get by. It may have been crude and far from glamorous, but it was what Neil had to do to survive, and truth be told he was having fun. Still, if it hadn’t been for Marius Montgomery, there’s no telling where he would be. Marius was an older man who had taken an interest in Neil at a bar the blond had attempted to apply at with a fake ID. Whether it was the sassy edge the blond exuded or the fact that he’d managed to swipe the man’s wallet without him realizing it, the two of them seemed to click instantly. He’d apparently watched Neil from afar for a week or so and was impressed by the boy’s cunning mind and tenacious spirit… and he had an offer for him. He’d take the kid under his wing, invest in him, teach him how to really use his natural gifts, and in return he’d only ask for a cut of his profits, and his blood on a regular basis of course.It was Neil’s first experience with a vampire in person, and while it took him for the reality to sink in, it was a deal he couldn’t pass up. Marius cleaned him up, and taught him all about the life of a proper con. How to win others over, how to lie so well even you started to believe it, and how to shut off that part of yourself that cared. Neil took it all on board, it was the first time anyone had ever given a shit about him, wanted to help him, how could he not admire the man? What admired him the most, however, wasn’t the lessons Marius had to offer, but the immortality. The prospect of being young, beautiful, and powerful for eternity was incredibly seductive, and his obsession with that, with prospect of becoming a vampire himself one day only made him even more susceptible to the vampire’s tutelage. All it took was the promise of immortality for Neil to offer is undying loyalty. A decision he ended up regretting.Neil learned his lesson about trust a second time whilst in the middle of a long and particularly dangerous con. Marius had asked him to get close to one of his biggest rivals, a vampire with well over a million dollars worth of artifacts. It had been Neil’s job to get close to him, seduce him, and earn his trust long enough to get access to his fortune. Sex and seduction had never been an issue for Neil, but he figured out during that con that espionage and burglary wasn’t his strong suit. While he managed to access and hand the antiques over to Marius, hew as discovered shortly after and apprehended. Neil had whole heartedly believed Marius would come back for him, but he never did. As retribution, he was sold to the Chateau in Covaire to make up for at least a fraction of the fortune he’d stolen, never to hear from his mentor again.
It’s been a little over three months since Neil was taken to Covaire, and by this point he likes to think he’s figuring out the system. He’s long since passed the aggressive “rebellious” stage, and simply laughs at those slaves that fight it, at times he even encourages them for mild amusement. At this point his only goal is to get out. If getting claimed by rich master is what he needs to do then that’s what he’ll do. Despite himself, his sass and his unapologetic manipulation tends to get him in just as much trouble as he did when he was new and aggressive. 
Secret: To this day Neil still wants to be turned into a vampire. He’s tired of being weak, and views both werewolves and vampires as a means of getting his strength back. He considers being a slave just one big long con into getting what he wants.
Personality: From an incredibly young age, Neil was conditioned never to trust. In this world, people were out to use you, and then discard you when they were finished, so naturally he adapted that same mentality. As far as he’s concerned, if he’s not the one using someone, getting something out of them, then they’re the ones taking advantage of him, and one thing he’s always hated was being a victim. Despite his lack of faith in anyone but himself, he is unrelentingly charming and shamelessly flirtatious. He is, after all, a guy with needs, and he tends to thrive on attention whenever and wherever he can get it. When he’s feeling ignored or irrelevant, he tends to act up.
There was a time when loyalty was everything to Neil, and on some level there may be a part of him that still feels that way, but he’s been shit on by literally every single person he’s ever trusted, and at this point refuses to play a fool again. He has no problem lying, cheating, deceiving, or setting up anyone if it’ll get him what he wants, whether it be a quick fuck, a warm meal, or a warm bed to sleep in. He’s not a genuine person, as much as he might pretend to be. At the end of it all, however, he wants what most people want. He wants respect, he wants security, and he wants it on his own terms… impossible as that might be in a cell.


Quote: “Everyone’s a slave to something or someone. The smart ones just learn to choose their masters.”
  • Name: Neil Bedford
  • Species: Human
  • Age: 24
  • Sexuality: Homoflexible (will sleep with women if it’s worth his while)
  • Turn-Ons: Rough Sex, Light Bondage, Blood play, Dominance, Power-play, fighting for dominance, wit, rimming (giving & receiving), anal (giving and receiving), voyeurism, marking, biting, muscle worship, edging.
  • Turn-Offs: Bad Hygiene, Humiliation, feminization, humans, watersports, scat, hardcore bdsm.
  • Face Claim: Alex Pettyfer

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Name: Lorcán ‘Mal’ O’Malley
Species: Werewolf (Omega)
Age: 116 (Mid 30’s)
Sexuality: Pansexual
Turn-Ons: Rough sex (receiving), choking, biting, scratching, Bondage, mild violence, being penetrated, filthy talk, humiliation (giving).
Turn-Offs: Scat, watersports, vomit, bad hygiene, humiliation(receiving).
Face Claim: Tim Roth[[MORE]]
Background: Born right around the turn of the century to an Irish family living in London, Lorcán grew up getting a lot of shit for who he was. He got in scuffles a lot and learned how to defend himself quickly. When he got sick of schooling, he took a job at the factory with his father, eager to start making money and move out on his own. One night, as they were headed home from drinking with work friends, they were attacked. Lorcán grabbed a rubbish bin lid and fought the beast off, emerging unscathed. His father, on the other hand, was not so lucky.
What followed was a nightmare. The next full moon, Lorcán awoke to the sound of his father screaming. He witnessed him change before his very eyes. Terrified, he ran out of the house and up to the roof. His mother had been out fetching things for the family with his younger sister. He tried to warn them off when he saw them approaching, but the wolf that was once his father burst out of the house and attacked. Lorcán, frozen in fear, watched blood spray as his father ripped the throats out of his mother and sister. He stayed on the roof til sunrise, then went about burying his family. When his father returned, naked and confused, he lunged, beating him as the tears flowed. When his father stopped crying back, he ran.
He had nowhere else to go, and not enough means to leave, but he didn’t care. He spent nearly a decade on the streets, working odd jobs, stealing and doing what he needed to after he’d been let go at the factory. He got inducted into an underground boxing ring where he put his skills to good use, made himself enough money to live somewhat comfortably and get his name in the papers. Lorcán had almost moved beyond the horrible nights of his teenage years. That’s when his father started trying to contact him again.
Changing mailing addresses, moving, nothing helped, his father could always find him, always wanted to apologize. The man had become a drunkard, consumed with the grief of having murdered his wife and daughter, clinging to the thought of reuniting with the only family he had left. Lorcán wanted nothing to do with him, but the man was persistent, kept telling him he could always find his son’s scent. Finally, one night, he confronted him.
There was an altercation, he should have been paying more attention to the time of the month, but he was so angry and he only wanted to be left alone. As his father changed again, he felt teeth burying into his neck. With a swift kick, he ran to safety, bleeding. He knew what had just happened, he knew his father had just ruined his life.
Only, in some ways, he hadn’t. Lorcán’s strength and enhanced reflexes enabled him to rise to even more powerful heights as a semi-professional boxer. The Donnely family even brought him on as the head of the family’s protection. They didn’t know why he disappeared once a month, and they didn’t ask, that was the beauty of the Irish Mob. He worked at learning to control the wolf from inside and out. Even as a beast, he had one thing on his mind: Stopping his father.
Fast forward 50 years, he’s a successful promoter in the sports world, still tied to the Donnely family, and still doing the occasional clean-up from time to time, though he was a bit more hands- off. He came to Covaire and loved it, being master of a wolf or a lowly human, it was just what the control freak part of him needed. But he got cocky.
Too cocky. The human mob had no place within Covaire’s walls, and he had grown too accustomed to the protection that his mortal alignment had provided. One night, he’d found himself persuading a young man into bed with him. The sex turned rough and the wolf left him in a rather bloodied and broken state. As the morning came and changed to afternoon, he found that the boy he’d bedded belonged to another Master, one who didn’t like his property to be damaged without his consent. Instead of kowtowing to the request that he pay for the boy’s medical bills, he told the Master that he’d help. He broke the young man’s neck and left a note “Cheaper’n putting the poor kid through rehab”. For killing without permission, now sits in the cages, cheeky as ever, his pride not allowing him to make nice just to get rented. When he sees freedom, he takes it, and he’s quickly learned the ins and outs of being a slave in the City, how to get what he wants without breaking the rules, which friends to make, and what it’ll take another Master or Mistress to be able to purchase him.
Secret: He found his father after two years of searching for him. They fought and both of them were wounded. When the sun rose on their bloodied bodies, Lorcán picked up the nearest log and smashed his father’s head to bits. He came back that night to burn the body, spitting on it as the flames consumed it.
Personality: Even though he no longer has the privileges of a Master, he still doesn’t know how to control his sass. Sometimes, when he’s bored, he’ll provoke the guards for a beating, just so he can break the monotony. He’s charismatic, and can usually be seen smiling. If someone gets on the wrong side of his anger, revenge is second nature to him, and he knows how to push people’s buttons.
He doesn’t take the freedom of being rented or owned lightly, but he doesn’t make himself emotionally available. He knows what he wants in a Master or Mistress, and until he finds it, he won’t allow himself to be owned, pride still one of the only things he can cling to. Emotions run hot, and he puts all his energy into each emotion. Sadness is consuming, happiness euphoric. His own buttons are carefully guarded, but when they’re pushed, can cause explosive anger.


Quote: “Wot? You think I give a shit? Sod off.”
  • Name: Lorcán ‘Mal’ O’Malley
  • Species: Werewolf (Omega)
  • Age: 116 (Mid 30’s)
  • Sexuality: Pansexual
  • Turn-Ons: Rough sex (receiving), choking, biting, scratching, Bondage, mild violence, being penetrated, filthy talk, humiliation (giving).
  • Turn-Offs: Scat, watersports, vomit, bad hygiene, humiliation(receiving).
  • Face Claim: Tim Roth

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Name: Kira Sanada
Species: Vampire
Age: 191 (20)
Sexuality: Demisexual
Occupation: Accountant at the Dominion
Turn-Ons: Extreme bondage (giving), voyeurism, submissiveness, blood, punishments (giving), giving baths, combing and brushing hair, politeness and etiquette. 
Turn-Offs: Rudeness, misogyny, children, bathroom play.
Face Claim: Rinko Kikuchi[[MORE]]
Background: Kira was born with a different name, the third child and only daughter of a silk merchant in Edo. Her human life was nothing special, married to another merchants son when she was seventeen she bore the man a son and played dutiful wife. But something inside of her was empty at the monotony of her life, even being a mother she still felt hollow and unfulfilled. But in July of 1853 something happened that changed everything. After centuries of being closed off three great black ships from America came into the Bay, belching smoke like dragons. The sailors had come to strike a treaty with Japan to open it’s ports. And Kira snuck out to catch glimpses of these strange newcomers, always being careful to hide from them. But one on board was even more than what he seemed, a vampire explorer that had caught sight of the curious woman that moved like a ghost. Eventually the two met and they taught each other enough words to speak to one another. Kira became the man’s lover. A deep and shameful secret that also made her feel more alive than she’d ever been. They went on that way for almost seven months. Until the treaty was signed. On the night of the feast the man asked Kira if she would like to go with him. “Where?” She asked. “Anywhere we want.” When she agreed and he took her in his arms she hadn’t been expecting the bite or the pain that followed. But from her death came her real birth into the world. 
They left, moving deeper into Japan, traveling together until the time they could buy a passage across the sea to Shanghai. Kira lived for the adventure, the thrill of the hunt, learning to pass as a singer, a geisha, a fortune teller, every new port was a chance to reinvent herself. She and her Sire travelled happily together for many years. Every new place giving her something new to try and be and new skills to learn. They stopped in Covaire at the turn of the century, a city that left a very strong impression on the young vampire, especially since she came back and spent the years of World War II in the city limits, enjoying it’s relative safety. She grew to love the melting pot feel of the city, seeing herself in how the city, while always itself was constantly in motion. 
Once World War II was over Kira grew heartsick for her homeland and travelled back to Japan. Where she spent the next forty-five years, traveling around her homeland and back to Covaire when time permitted. On her latest trip back to Covaire she decided that perhaps it was time to truly settle for a little, her Sire long gone and taking care of his other children. She has just made the transition back to Covaire, purchased a home and has started working in the Dominion in the accounting department. 
Secret: Kira doesn’t actually understand the what her sexuality is. She finds it difficult to feel sexual desire for anyone without a deeper emotional or romantic connection. She still forces herself to have sex with slaves at times because she feels it is expected of her as a Mistress but would honestly would rather either tie a slave up and whip them or bake a cake with them than fuck them. 
Personality: On first meeting Kira often comes across as sweet and whimsical but this is merely the surface appearance. As often as she enjoys switching and altering her physical appearance her moods are just as changeable. After so many years playing different parts Kira has developed many personality facets, keeping pieces from each character she has played over the centuries. Even after so long she has a lust for existence and a curiosity about life that makes her seem much less jaded than many her age. She is deferential to the Alphas of Covaire and dutiful in her work, taking pride in her job at the Dominion and seeing it done well. But isn’t adversed to a good party. The very definition of work hard, play hard. 
In fellow Masters and Mistresses she respects strength and those who know how to use it with grace. Not impressed with boorishness and bullying tactics. With civilians and slaves she expects politeness as she sees Covaire as a caste system, everyone should know and embrace their roles, that is the way to true happiness. While she is, at first, always polite to those who are polite to her she can be very capricious when it comes to those she sees as the castes below her own but isn’t deliberately cruel for the sake of cruelty. That doesn’t mean that slaves haven’t suffered under one of her more heinous mood swings. She rents slaves often, for reasons varying from torture, to tea parties. Enamored at having a captive audience to her whims. 
Kira is difficult to get to know on any true level, always shifting and moving, a dynamic force but to those that have taken the time and weathered the storms she is a considerate acquaintance and Mistress. She’s currently looking for something to purchase, something worthy of her household and her name.


Quote: “弱肉強食”
  • Name: Kira Sanada
  • Species: Vampire
  • Age: 191 (20)
  • Sexuality: Demisexual
  • Occupation: Accountant at the Dominion
  • Turn-Ons: Extreme bondage (giving), voyeurism, submissiveness, blood, punishments (giving), giving baths, combing and brushing hair, politeness and etiquette. 
  • Turn-Offs: Rudeness, misogyny, children, bathroom play.
  • Face Claim: Rinko Kikuchi

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