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I'll put my hand up for it hunni <3 <3 <3

Gwendolyn had awoken with a gentle yawn and bright eager smile. She felt good about today, as if something rather fun were to happen. But then again, she had felt the same way yesterday... and the day before... and the day before that. She arose from her hammock and shook away the thought, today she was certain something entertaining were to happen.

She dressed rather quickly but took the time to make sure she looked presentable. Gwen may have been at sea, but a lady of the evening should never be known to appear unimpressive. "I'm known as the siren of all seven seas; the breaker of hearts by the bay. So if you go swimming with bow-legged women, I might steal your weak heart away. A big-bottomed sea-witch may bob through the waves, and hope to lead sailors astray. But a true ocean goddess must fill out her bodice, to present an alluring display." she sang. It was a fitting song, all things considered, and one Gwen had no problem in being compared to. 

Clutching a bottle of almost empty rum in one hand, one of the last bottles she had managed to stash away for times such as this, Gwen proceeded towards the deck. The commotion aboard the ship was obvious as the men rushed about, readying a dingy for departure. She looked about the sea to eventually find the two marooned men.

She smiled to herself as she drained the last of her bottle before tossing it overboard. "Fun times will be 'ad for all I think." Following the crews lead, Gwendolyn climbed into the dingy and waited for the men to row them all to land. She hummed to them all as she stared out across the ocean, allowing herself to be hypnotized by the waves and the tune whirling around in her mind.

A few of the sailors joined in with her song, a shanty of Rum was always something able to lift the mens spirits.

"Come all ye bold 'eroes, give an ear to me song
We'll sing in the praise of good brandy and rum
There's a clear crystal fountain over England doth roll
Give me the punch ladle, I'll fathom the bowl

I'll Fathom the bowl
I'll Fathom the bowl
Give me the punch ladle
I'll fathom the bowl

From France we do get brandy, from Jamaica comes rum
Sweet oranges and apples from Portugal come
Ah! But stout and strong ciders are England's control!
Give me the punch ladle, I'll fathom the bowl..." and so it went as they made their journey, until the men finally made it to their desired destination.

They raided the stores there and a hearty cheer went out about the group as they found a treasure beloved by Pirates such as these. But her Mistress, her Capitan seemed displeased.

"Something wrong with the brandy Cap'in?"

(OOC:  lyrics taken from "Sirens of the Sea" from the movie Caroline and "Fathom the Bowl" by John C. Reily.)

[Age:]

Gwendolyn Silvia Bussiere
(Named for her mother "Gwen" and her Mistress "Silvia Bussiere")

Age: Twenty summers old
Sex: Female
Height: stands around 5 ½ ft tall
Weight: weighs around 100 pounds
Job: Look out, once upon a time however, Gwen was a prostitute, a thief, a beggar and a stowaway. But such things are better left in the past, no?
Vessel: The Outlaw Seraphim
Race: Human
Appearance: Click here hunni

Bio:  

Born to a whore of Tortuga who died three years later, little Gwendolyn's future seemed bleak. Entrusted to her mother's pimp, she was taught the ways of men, liquor and entertainment. She made her living there; performing on stages for those who enjoyed her arts as well as in the squalor she called a room for men who could pay the right price.  

It was not until her 17th birthday that Gwen started her life on the seas. She'd woken up one morning besides a drunken sailor on a ship which had already left port. Miles away from home, Gwendolyn found it unlikely that any Capitan would turn tail to return a drunken prostitute to her home. Rather, Gwen made no requests, merely announced her presence and offered to work in order for something to eat and a place to sleep. The next time they made port in Tortuga however, Gwendolyn found she could not bring herself to leave, despite how much she missed her Mistress and sisters. Ever since she has been a loyal member of the Outlaw Seraphim's crew.

True, she was better with her fists than with a sword, but Karita had found her useful all the same. Perhaps it was not such a bad idea to have a whore on board keeping the better looking crew mates from starting a mutiny, no? Having someone who cared little for sleep and was used to staying up all night made her well suited to the position of lookout anyway, why not keep the little stowaway on board?

As not many would know, Gwen still holds true to the three sacred rules she was taught by her Mistress; never get drunk, never get sick and never fall in love. On nights when the crew is restless and there is little entertainment besides a brawl, Gwen will entertain them as best they can (not with her body my dears, but with her voice).  

Personality:

Gwendolyn is almost never in a bad mood. Even while in the midst of a raid Gwennie will laugh and smile the whole way through. After years of living amongst the dregs of society, she has learnt through experience that there is no better life on earth than one spent sailing the seas. After living a life that strictly enforced an open seductive manor, it has become exceedingly difficult for the girl to act in any way that could be seen as negative or displeasing. She is a people person, and pleasing those she cares for is almost always at the forefront of her mind.

She enjoys her music, a fine pint or two, and the occasional bloody brawl. Sex, as it is, has become a rather meaningless experience. After all, she was always taught that her body was merely a tool which could be loaned out for a few hours in exchange for cold hard cash. It would take a determined man to ever change her mind.  Be warned however, if you touch the girl without her permission, be ready to lose a few beloved appendages along the way.

Despite this outward cheery show, Gwen is never afraid to defend herself all those she loves, or despise those who truly deserve it. Her loyalty runs deeper than most would admit, but her insatiable need for independence is second to none. Her one and only dream is to one day commander her own ship, and sail the seas until the end of her days.

She watched as he caught sight of her, his tall strong form changing direction in order to sit across from her in the quaint little café. Uriel sighed and brought the cup of coffee to her lips. Angels did not need to eat as humans did, but the occasional drink or piece of chocolate was something little Uri just couldn't pass up. It was a simple desire, not gluttonous of course, but Uriel always managed to moderately sate her hungers.

"At least you are a man of your word Donavon." She sipped at her coffee with silent grace, refusing to remove her glasses for fear of being lost in his eyes. "I would have thought Italy to be the very last on your list of country's to visit, after all, no one of your sect would willingly come to a place filled with so much loving faith now, would they?"

He seemed to be behaving himself at least. But still, he was a beautiful specimen... How anyone expected her not to be tempted was pure insanity. But it was not merely his appearance, it as his confidence, his warmth, his witty nature. What more could she possibly want in a male companion?

But such things were not to be thought of. Not when one was already paired, gifted to a man of her own importance. The Archangel at the left hand side of god, second only to the messiah. Uriel was lucky, the book of life had been merciful... so why did she still feel as if she were being ripped away from something her heart truly desired?

Had she been a weaker woman however, Uriel likely would have paid for her bill and run. But there was no point in weakness. Donavon could find her anywhere after all, and an Archangel would never run from someone of his circle.

"How have you been Donavon?" she asked in earnest; they were words most humans seemed to throw around without importance, but words she wished to hold honest curiosity. "I trust Lucifer is not running you ragged with his perverted little missions."

Thanks sweethearts! <3 <3 <3

*Secretly rapes Vega over in the corner*

Oh! And i already have shot you a PM sweetheart xx All about plotting ^^ <3 <3 <3

Hello All!!!

My Name is Uri <3 <3 <3

And yep, cause i hate introduction threads, this is mine.

Short and sweet, just like me and my characters

If you dont like it...

Well, too bad.

Donts:
Scat, watersports etc. (This stuff is fucking disgusting. Do NOT ask me to do such things, unless you want a big old smack in the face.)
Lolita. I will not role-play a child screwing with a 40yr old man.  If the characters are of the same age, or have a 1-2yr age gap, I'm okay with going as low as 16.
Mutilation. It's just a no go for me.

Do's
Anything and everything!
Personally, I have a fetish for paranormal and biblical creatures. Angels and Daemons get my socks off okay?
I prefer to play a female character, but am willing to have a go at playing a male role. The orientation doesn't bother me. You can be male, female or even transgender. It doesn't faze me.


Beyond that guys, let your imagination run wild!
If it's interesting, I'll do it. If not... well, don't hate me if I shoot you down in flames Though if you adhere to the above mentioned rules, I doubt that will happen.

[(Twenty Five Years Later)]

She watched her shadow disappearing into the crowd with angry confused eyes. He did that often; linger at the back of her mind, following her around like a shadow that refused to give her away. And sometimes, sometimes he whispered to her, whispered the memories of what had been, and what could be...

If she never saw him again it would be far too soon.

He made her wishful, hopeful almost. Donavon had been... exotic to her. He made her love on a physical level, on a primal needy level. It was... evil, primitive and completely beneath her. Or at least, that was what Gabriel would have said.

But Uriel knew once she returned home to her Beloved and her Father, all would be as it should. Perfection would return to her being and the filth Donavon dare impose upon her would dissipate back into the darkness from whence it came. But the idea of Donavon's disappearance... that thought alone made her stop and think. She felt for him, what she felt however, was unknown.

Love was impossible for the two of them. After all, love was a gift only the Father dare gift to her. Gabriel was her love; the Book of Life itself prophesied such a pairing. She needed no other, was to want for no other, and love no other than Gabriel.

But Donavon... there was always Donavon... Lingering at the back of her mind like a down cast shadow that refused to disappear...

And yet she would never want him to.

"I... don't want you to go." She whispered at last. He had been gone for a good five minutes now, yet Uriel had not moved an inch. She could not move...

'We do not feel contentment till we find that One. We die protecting that one, even against Lucifer himself.... True beauty, for a Demon, will be the calm in the storm.' He had said.

For a moment, Uriel wanted to be that One... But Donavon could not be calm; his heart was filled with too much passion, and his eyes, too much lust and longing. He could not be calm and contented as she... but Uriel would never want him to.

His love would not be that of Gabriel's all-knowing perfection, but it would be perfect, they would be perfect...

She shook herself of the thought and quickly scrambled away, leaving her heart and thoughts of Donavon far behind. There was no need for him where she was going... no need for love.

(Twenty Five Years Later)

"She will lead you astray Matthew, do not follow her down that road of sin and corruption." Uriel whispered as she held onto the wrists of a man across the table. He was human, but an important human of sorts. Uriel was never really sure, after all, who honestly followed human politics?

He was crying, soft clear tears were falling from his eyes as Uriel forced him to relive all the horrible little evils his beloved had committed against him. This was always the saddest part as far as Uriel was concerned, watching these humans as she replayed the most intimate of detailed memories through their minds. Watching them cry, watching their hearts break and reform before her very eyes...

To some, it may have even been uplifting when they chose a path of divinity over a life of perpetual self gratification... But such a thought always reminded her of Donavon.

Uriel sighed and let go of her charges wrists, allowing the images to slip away from his mind as she began to clear the misty indecisiveness from his conscious.

"Your right," he choked out between sobs, "She's an evil heartless bitch!" the word make Uriel cringe. Such a horrible thing, this cursing was. Why use such crudities when there were so many more suitable terms?

"Thank you," Matthew said as determination and a strong mindset bubbled over onto his face, "I'll do as you've asked."

Uriel slipped on her fake yet surprisingly convincing smiled and nodded her acceptance of his gratitude. One should never really smile unless they mean it, but these humans seemed to need the constant reassurance. A smile seemed to be as natural as breathing to them. It was quite annoying really.

He walked away, his form strong and focused as he disappeared into the crowd. He would forsake the woman and she would die a shameful death of those who dare forsake their true religion, sending her to Lucifer's realm. It was not Matthew's fault, but in the end he would take his own life in return. God had plans for him however; plans that would fall into place once Matthew met Saint Peter outside the pearly gates. It was an even enough bargain, after all, Angels were sent to keep the peace, not create perfection on earth. If fact, Uriel had thought it was these humans' imperfections that made them perfect...

Uriel sighed and slumped ever so slightly in her chair, she felt tired today. She had moved once again, as she did every five to ten years. She looked too young to pull off 30, but no matter where you went there were always more libraries to organize and books to restore. Prophesies were not subject to a time or place either and no matter where she went Uriel knew her Gabriel would be looking after her.

Italy was a nice enough place at least, though she did have many questions about its transport system, Uriel felt it to be... rather beautiful. The very atmosphere in Italy was preciously vibrant; it was as if the very country had a pulse, a loving heartbeat that thrived on passionate heat.

She was dressed appropriately enough, what with her black leather boots, white V-necked dress that rested delicately between her breasts and ended around her mid thigh, huge tinted sunglasses and a thick grey woolen scarf completed the ensemble. She had dressed as to not draw attention, and hide her scars of course, but even an Archangel could not fully hide her true nature.  

The quaint little café she had decided to visit this morning smelt of roasted coffee beans and fresh pasta. It was such a beautiful scent. And even though there was a coffee shop on each block, so far, this one had become her favorite. She allowed herself a small, dainty smile as she glanced over the many faces roaming past the café. They all look so determined, as if everyone in Italy had somewhere of momentous importance to be. She doubted these humans understood such a thing as Importance.

She read their energy, glancing from aura to aura, tasting emotion after emotion and falling deeper in love with their kind as each second past. There was something magical within these humans, something born of ignorance and a yearning to learn. They felt like newborns, like Cherubs that flittered about in a carefree beautiful manor.

It was not until a few minutes later that she noticed something different; a form that caged a wild beast who fed on love and lust, spitting it out like tobacco on the cool concrete below its feet with little regard for who may tread on it in the few short moments to come.

"Donavon..." she whispered.

As if their first test of loyalties had not been enough. 175 years to go. Why did he always show up when things seemed to just be getting easy again?

Uriel shivered when Donavon touched her skin. His fingers, still warm and rough made her ache from a place that had lain dormant for centuries. Uriel could not feel the warmth of the sun anymore, but this creature, this demon made her burn. He was evil, his lustful ways were nothing but pure evil.

Or at least, that's what she told herself.

She bit down on the corner of her lower lip at his words. A game, it was all just a game to him. It made her wish Gabriel had been allowed to teach her these demon's ways. Perhaps she would be able to resist much easier if he had. "Credit. So nice to hear you have your priorities straight at least." She said in that sing-song sarcastic tone of hers.

His questioning her faith brought flames to the front of her mind. Flames she had hoped to never see again. "You have no knowledge of what my kindred give me. Had you been born into that kind of eternal love and strength, perhaps you would not be as callous as you are now." Not that she really minded that aspect of him however. She found his crudeness... endearing, in an all too perverted way.

She tightened her arms around the books and allowed a small crease to appear between her brows. "There is more to eternity than Lust you know... Something's are supposed to be about the soul, not the body. If I had not fallen, I could show you that much. How to feel with your heart and see with more than just your eyes..." her words and fantasies had gotten away from her again. He had done that to her often, if Uriel were to recall correctly. She wished to show him what it was like to feel the Holy Spirit caressing your soul, filling you like a cup that could never runeth over.

She shook away the thought as a light blush crept over her cheeks. "But I doubt you'd be interested in eternal contentment. Your kind are too heartless to understand true beauty." She murmured, more to herself than Donavon. She glanced up at him and before she could stop herself, she smiled a good heartfelt twitching of the lips.

"Had things been different I would have shown you that much. Truth in itself is a difficult subject to master."

[you]

Uriel smacked face first into a broad chest of muscle that sent the stack of books she had been carrying flying about the square. "Oh dear, I'm so terribly sorry about that." She said as she bent down to pick up the ancient leather bound novels. She hadn't so much as glanced at the man before her, but something about him, his energy, just didn't seem human.

Not that she really wanted to be thinking about 'non-humans' and their energy right now. That path would merely make her think of Demons, and that would lead to thoughts of Donavon, and Donavon was the absolute last person she wanted to be thinking about. He ruined her, used her, stole her heart and had her caste out of heaven. Gabriel had been so terribly wounded by her betrayal... to think she could still see those amazingly tearful eyes as if he were standing right before her. But as she picked up the last of her books and glanced at the wondrously tall stranger. Her heart shattered.

"Oh my dear Father All Mighty!" she gasped in shock. "Why on earth are you here?" She stared at him for a moment, wordlessly.

He was back.

How was he back?

Why was he back?

"I... I thought you returned to your... Master." She muttered. Had he not been wearing shades, Uriel knew she would be as good as captured. He was attractive of course, tall and protective, the way she had always remembered. But those eyes, the bright green emerald of his iris allowed her to glimpse into his heart... a heart most would not believe existed.

Gabriel had given her a chance to return to her post. A thousand years of prophecy, protection and celibacy. If she were to abide by the Lords will, act the way an Angel of her standard should, perhaps the Lord would be merciful.

It had been 800 years since she had fallen.

And now... now that she was so close to her goal. It was fate that Donavon should reappear.