(I know I don't normally post here..or haven't for a while.. but I thought a change wouldn't hurt, and I wouldn't mind seeing what kind of RP is out there.

...

Anyway, ish set in rural France, in an Astrology tower...the character in question being an Astrology professor.

Anyone can join, but don't just post ONE paragraph... that's..boring. -nodnod- )

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Stone walls seemed alive with the soft, intoxicating sounds of a violin... the music rolling as though water, over the heavy lavender curtains, that enveloped arching Renaissance windows; windows that threw out their gaze, over a landscape of furtile, Southern French fields. A tower overlooking fresh land, yet a tower of storming, desperate life.

A rose-wood desk sat at the furthest end of the circular room; scattered with yellowing parchment..reels upon reels of paper overtaking the smooth wood, until only a hint of wine-red was left to the naked eye. Pallid fingertips flexed... hands of a smooth alabaster threaded with light blue veins, that slid down towards a bone-thin wrist... becoming lost within draping sleeves, spun of a light vermilion cotton. Cobalt blue optics blinked, slowly becoming veiled with a sheet of deep violet lashes, that kissed at his cheeks; cheeks so well defined, that they seemed all but fit for a woman.

These days, nothing truly mattered; lies of self-conciousness had been overtaken with an egocentric form of arrogance, and the master vampire had woven his own dreams.

Exhaling sharply, those ebony painted lips formed a very delicate smile; either corner twitching, somewhat triumphantly, while a slim leg slipped from behind his desk...wreathes of blood-red material clinging to his upper thighs, before becoming a pool against his calves and ankles.. draped in Asian finery, as always; nothing seemed good enough for him, yet Azia prefered mere plain fabric...dissasotiating himself, entirely, from those of his creed. After all... he was above them. No matter whose name it was, carven into those oaken doors of the leaders office.

A dangerous self-confidence..

Sharp nostrils quivered, while that lithe form graced the heavy crimson carpets, that soon gave way to bare wood..soft, leather boots, barely kissing the ground; a state of panther-like elegance that held any observer in a state of hypnotic envy. Slowly, slender hands extended for the curtain; those fragile features hit by silken rays of moonlight, that swam over the room..locking it in a spell-binding night-time beauty.

"And where does my master dance, tonight, I wonder?"

The whisper issued forth from those raven dyed lips, almost as though nothing but a breath of air; a lost thought that stained his inner mind. That master...there had been one, even for him, no matter how long ago it was. A man who had given him this eternity; this power that he could still not decide, whether it was his curse or blessing. After all... five millenia was a long time to wait for the one who's blood still coursed through dead veins.

Long nails swept down along the window pane; curling together, and pressing to his palm, as if mimicing the expression, that now drew together violet brows...those luxurious purple tresses spread out along his shoulders, as to gather in the curve of his throat. A throat clad entirely in a stiff, starched vermilion cotton; laced tightly together with jet ribbons.

Every man had his secret...

Even Azia.

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Those who find ugly meanings, in beautiful things, are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. -Oscar Wilde-