[ Okay...this isn't a themed RP, nor is it a copy of any other series.
It's simply roleplay, and non-LotR related at that, and any original character is welcome.
Anyone is welcome to join, of course.
Literate RP is preferred.
Thank you very much. ]



Sweet music heralded the rolling of wheels, rickety across the cobblestones of the market.
As if providing some sort of fanfare to the arrival, a lithe boy stood amidst the market crowd, spine curling backward with the rhythm of his music.
His arm pulled backward, sweeping a long bow across the quivering strings of his beautiful violin, feet shifting.

As his head tipped backward, curls of deep red tinted hair were thrown between his shoulder blades; the clink of coins clattering into the case beside his feet.
Sitting to guard the case as it seemed was a younger boy, with similar almond eyes and tan skin; his hair pulled into a clipped ponytail, although escaping fast.
Suggestively, he carried a pottery bowl around, trying to collect a few extra tips for his brother's ample entertainment.

_________________
"Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination" - Oscar Wilde

So its just ordinary life yea? No particular plot??

Name: Amber.
Age: 15
Eyes: Beautifull hazel brown.
Hair: Very long, dark brown.
Appearance: Slim attractive figure. Body fit, from regular exercise.

Im afraid i cant post any more until i find out a bit more of the plot.

Sorry.

_________________

<center>


~Thank you to Estë Undómë for the Beeeautiful Banners & Avvie <3 ~

I'll join, love... Give me a day for a bio. Who do you wish for?: Dorian or another character?

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

[ Plotline is a vague, grey area of beauty... -smiles-
...Okay, about...16th-17th century, fantasy, busy city with a market.
Busking on the streets for personal earnings is somewhat illegal...
Enough plotline?

Seral, dear...It's up to you entirely. ]

_________________
"Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination" - Oscar Wilde

I shall join!

Name: Aetheron Malern
Hair Color and condition: Raven black hair, long and straight.
Eye Color: Normal: Crystal Blue, Angry: Blood Red, Happy: Dark Purple.
Age: 1005
Height: 6'2''
Race: Vampire

_________________



Siggy set made by the amazing Lembas!

[ Cool. Well, anyone is welcome to reply to the first actions. ]

_________________
"Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination" - Oscar Wilde

Aetheron slowly stepped in the streets, with the sound of a lonely violin, being carried by the slight breeze that was in the air. His face was covered by his black hood, so he seemed consumed by darkness.

Aetheron had excluded himself from the world, ever since his master died. He lost his bond. He had to fend for himself, but it wasn't working as well as he had anticpated.

He slowly walked towards the man and his violin. He stood in front of him and looked down to watch. He folded his arms and started tapping out the tune that the man was playing, with his fingers against the top of his arm.

From the tightness of his long trenchcoat, he was quite muscular, but slender. He stood at about 6'2'' and seemed that his slenderness made him appear taller than he truthfully was.

He sighed and smirked a little. His fangs would have shown, was there not a hood covering his flawless features. He watched the man, in wonder.

_________________



Siggy set made by the amazing Lembas!

Ardan made his way through the streets, the sound of the violin having reached his ears, even through the chatter of the crowds.
Auburn eyes came to rest on the violinist, causing a smile to grace his lips.
Something in that sound was so innocent, yet so heart-achingly painful, that the vampire could only stop and listen.
Moving a little closer, Ardan caught the younger boys hand, glancing into the bowl, his eyes sudenly sorrowful.
Stepping back, and releasing the boy, Ardan dug into the deep pockets of his jacket, pressing all the change he had, into the boy's hand.
The music hand affected him, in such a way, he felt as if he had to give something to these buskers.
His eyes wandered to the boy playing the violin, errant tresses of raven falling across his slightly bronzed face; he couldn't have been more than thirty.
His voice had a slightly exotic accent to it, as he spoke, perhaps a Spanish influence. Leaning close to the younger boy, he whispered, so softly, it seemed surprising;

"Do you have a place to go, little one?"

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

((i like! may i join?))

_________________
<center>“Envy consists in seeing things never in themselves, but only in their relations. If you desire glory, you may envy Napoleon, but Napoleon envied Caesar, Caesar envied Alexander, and Alexander, I daresay, envied Hercules, who never existed.”
at one point, I was alejandrah.

A beautifull young girl sprinted carefully down the busy streets. Dodging the crowds expertly, weiving (Sp?) left and right around them.
The pretty teenager stopped infront of a small shack, looking around her, she carefully stepped inside, a blade of silver glistened in her hands.
She stroked the small dagger softly, touching its delicate hilt, then the blade. The shininess, but under all that silver was nothing but murder, and the stains of death. The girl smiled, she had made it into the house easily enough, but that was only the first bit. She still had to find the man she had been so desperate to kill!

"Amber!" came a voice in the corner and the young girl jumped.
Her eyes focused in on the corner. Suddenly she felt a burning from inside her as she recognised the man as the murderer of her parents.
"Shut up!" she raised her dagger and pointed it to the strangers face. The fire swelling up in her chest grew and grew.
"Amber.. calm down! I only want to help!" replied the figure, only his eyes could be seen, the rest hidden by a dark cloak.
"You murdered my parents!!" screamed Amber, her voice full of anger.
A deep fire, spread through her eyes, as it overwhelmed the rest of her, slowly Amber raised the blade, aiming for the neck "You could never help me! With everything you have done!!"
The blade was brought down....

(( Amber is a young girl, whose parents were murdered in cold blood by this man.
Amber is a kind and beautifull girl, but the death of her parents tranformed her, now sheis a bloodfirsty killer, she aims to get help, but no one will listen... Any good?? Tell my if you would like me to change it a bit? ))

_________________

<center>


~Thank you to Estë Undómë for the Beeeautiful Banners & Avvie <3 ~

(( Uhmm...kind of off-topic, Nienna...to what everybody else is doing. ))

The boy draws out the note, long and wavering as he tilts back upward with a toothy, pearly grin to his audience.
Brandishing the instrument in one hand with ample care, he flourishes with his bow, one hand twirling royally.

His hand caught, mid-bow, cold coins pressed hard into the accepting palm. Long fingers curl, invitingly around the money, finding the hand still lingering.
Ra'ziel's eyes drift upward to Ardan with a raise of one thin eyebrow.

"Little one?" he quizzes with an air of amusment.
"Ah have a place, although ah travel where ah'm taken, yah see. All par' of life."

He passes a carefree grin to his accoster, and casts a wistful money-hungry glance toward Aetheron, chancing a one-sided and slow smile.

_________________
"Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination" - Oscar Wilde

Name: Evelyn
Hair Color and condition: golden blonde, long and slightly wavy
Eye Color: piercing green
Age: 23
occupation: dancer

--------------------------------------

As she walked down the busy market square she couldn't help but get drawn to the unique sorrowful sounds of a violen playing agaisnt the wind. She smiled as her body began to move slightly to the beat of the music as her feet carried her to a young boy holding a bowl while the other; presumably his brother, played the violen.

She bent down and tausled the younger ones hair before opening the small pouch attached to her hip and taking out all her coins and handing it to the youngling.

"You play beautifully...." She said in a soft voice before losing herself in the passing crowd. It was only when the soft music stopped that she turned to the buskers that she saw another man talking to them.

_________________

The waves that C R A S H E D upon
The R O C K S that you were trying to step along

And in my head I heard them play a S O N G

(*appears* So, can I join?..... *grins lopsidedly* All my characters are rather vagabondish, pick one.....)

_________________
For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him shall not die, but have everlasting Life. ~John 3:16~





~The Mercenary A-U Gentlewoman~

( Well, of course you can join. But pick a character yourself! ^_^ All are welcome! )


The glance drifts from Aetheron, falling across toward the current female company with a slightly wider grin, and a flick of his hair as Evelyn quietly compliments the playing.

As she drifts back through the crowd, his neck cranes slightly above Ardan to follow her dancing feet back between the rest.

_________________
"Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination" - Oscar Wilde

Auburn eyes glowed, even so slightly, at the slight mockery in Ra'ziel's tone when Ardan addressed the boy as 'little one'.
The raven haired vampire released him, and folded his slender hands, behind his back, head tilted to one side, as if considering the boy's words.
Yes, he had known the wandering life, but now he lived, if rather eccentrically, in this city. Wonderful, really, the riches, and fair people. Ardan the gypsy, and now Ardan the wealthy lord.
Shaking his head, sharply, the dark haired man looked back to Ra'ziel.

"Yes... I know that..." shrugging, ever so slightly, he glanced at the surrounding people, then back to the two boys. "Well, if you have need for a place to stay, call upon me," Ardan handed Ra'ziel a tattered piece of paper, from the depths of his pocket, an address hastily scrawled in black ink, "I will be there."

Taking a step back, Ardan resumed to watching the two buskers, his face serene.

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

Sorry Shadowstorm, im a bit of a dramatic writer, and im quite into murder and things like that at the moment. Sorry.

_________________

<center>


~Thank you to Estë Undómë for the Beeeautiful Banners & Avvie <3 ~