Phloem

You Get What You Give

Allan was oblivious, but not oblivious enough to recognise the signal telling him to drop the matter. Shrugging, he brought the coffee cup to his lips and took a small swig. He furrowed his brow, momentarily glancing down at the swirling, black liquid in his hands. His own love life was pretty much in shambles after that fiasco with his ex-girlfriend. Maybe he should work on getting it back on track instead of getting all up in other people’s business, but he wasn’t exactly excited at the prospect of getting his heart broken once again. This wasn’t the time to be upset, however, and he quickly pushed the thought to the back of his mind. All of that was in the past now, and Allan refused to cry over spilt milk. He’d never really given much thought about Aria… not in the douchebaggy way, though. Both of them have been friends for awhile, and Aria had never seemed interested in having a relationship with anyone. Of course, she’d been a target of Allan’s customary flirting, but that was that. Gulping down a mouthful of coffee, he rolled his eyes at Marian’s jape about him being too much trouble for her to handle. Though a wry smile remained present on his face as he did so.

“Oh, yeah! Aria could take me!” Allan exclaimed a little too loudly, right when Aria draped her arm over his shoulders. He sounded like an excited five year-old who’d just found out that he was going to Disneyland. His own hand went to grab the other’s shoulder, giving it a chummy squeeze once his fingers found purchase. It was almost like they were posing for a photo… also at Disneyland. He made sure to let go before things awkward, but not before flashing a grateful smile at Aria for her offer to bring him along. Turning his attention back to the conversation, he raised an eyebrow in confusion. He had no idea who this ‘Bonnie Taylor’ was, apart from the fact that she was rich, and that neither of his companions seemed to like her very much. Which was understandable, to say the least. Not everyone who’s filthy rich was as down-to-earth as Aria. Granted, he hadn’t met many rich people in his life, but it was enough for him to get an idea.

Clapping his hands together, Allan’s face split into a toothy grin. “So, it’s settled! Hope you two are ready for a good time because yours truly,” he punctuated the sentence by pointing two thumbs at himself, “is gonna be there.” It didn’t hurt that he never stayed sober at a party either, even on a job. What can he say? He was just that good. Even when he was drunk, he always managed to shimmy a fat Armani wallet out of some bigwig’s pocket.

Look at this pleeeeeeaaaaase! I suck at titles!

I'm interested, probably gonna write up my CS after I get home. :)

You Get What You Give

I'll post once I get home from class tomorrow. :)

You Get What You Give

“Alright, alright. Whatever you say.” Allan raised his hands, palms facing outwards in a surrendering gesture. “But all I gotta say is this: search your feelings, you know it to be true.” Clearly, he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Marian without any backup. And so, he resolved to put together a grand scheme for getting the two of them together. Since he wasn’t able to have a successful relationship on his own, he’d be damned if he let these two down. Maybe he could even rope Aria into collaborating with him. He was pretty sure that she knew about Marian’s crush, and it couldn’t hurt to have one more person on board with the plan. For the millionth time, Allan thought that this ‘secret identity’ thing the Merry Men practiced was more of a hindrance than benefit; all it did was get in the way of their personal lives. Sure, it threw off the cops that were after them, but why they even needed an alias in the first place was beyond him. Historically, robbers and thieves weren’t exactly known to have fancy nicknames.

So engrossed in this train of thought, Allan didn’t even notice Aria’s presence until she sidled up next to him with his long-awaited cup of coffee. He’d say something about her awfully close proximity, but to be honest, he was just glad his coffee was here. Mumbling a quick thanks to Aria, he dumped a diabetes-inducing amount of sugar into the coffee. He was going to need the sugar-rush if he was going to survive the day. It was still early in the morning and he’d already used up a good chunk of his energy. Taking a sip of the piping hot beverage, he listened to Marian talk about some fancy ball she was invited to. Allan really didn’t pay much attention to it at first, mostly because these events weren’t really this thing, but his eyes lit right up when he realised what this could mean for the Merry Men. It being masquerade-themed was only an added bonus, they didn’t even have to risk their covers getting blown. A surreptitious sideways glance at Aria, and he was sure that she was thinking the same thing as well.

“Aw, hey. Aren’t you gonna invite little ol’ me?” Allan said to Marian with a pout. Heaving an exaggerated sigh, he leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms and shaking his head. His expression was forlorn, as if he were utterly devastated at being abandoned. Of course, he wasn’t all that upset that she didn’t ask him to go, but he really didn’t want to have to pull a Mission Impossible style break-in when he could just walk right in through the front door.

You Get What You Give

Posted, sorry it's kinda short.

You Get What You Give

The corners of Allan's lips turned up into a knowing smirk as he listened to Marian speak. Leaning in ever so slightly, he raised an eyebrow in amusement at her explanation. Try as she might to defend herself, he saw right through her. He didn't quite know why, but he always had a knack for this kind of thing. Unfortunately for Allan, it was a pretty useless skill to have now that he was no longer an obnoxious, gossipy teenager in high school. He could still be obnoxious most of the time, but that was besides the point. The fact was, he always knew a crush when he saw one. Maybe it wasn't a full-blown 'oh-my-god-let-me-kiss-the-ground-you-walk-on' just yet (he really doubted it'd ever get to that point), but he could practically see Cupid's arrow lodged in her back. Allan wasn't sure if Robert felt the same way, so he quickly filed a mental note to wheedle it out of him later.

"Oh no no no, Marian. You can't hide it from me, I can see it in your eyes." Allan nodded sagely, as if he were the world's greatest love expert... though the effect was largely ruined by the mischievous smile on his face. This was too much fun, he almost forgot how hungry he was and how he was still in desperate need of a coffee. At least Marian wasn't trying to hide her crush, since she'd probably only dig an even deeper grave if she tried. Just then, a metaphorical lightbulb lit up in the recesses of Allan's mind. What if, just what if, he brought them two together? Some would say to just let destiny take its course, but Allan had never been a patient man. "Marian, you are so deeply in love with this man I am actually a little embarrassed on your behalf. You know... I could arrange an introduction of sorts. I'm sure you crazy kids already know each other, but a date wouldn't hurt, don't you think?"

You Get What You Give

Yup, I did see that. But I just figured I'd answer both you and Rowdyruff in one post. I'll get on it after I have a shower, since Rowdyruff doesn't seem to be back yet. Apologies for the delay, just give me a little while to work on it. :)

You Get What You Give

I was actually waiting for Rowdyruff to post, but I'll write something soon, I guess? :U

Forgotten (Vampire Roleplay)

Finally done with this, hope it's alright. :)

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Name: Christof Jakobsen

Gender: Male

Age: 251

Appearance:

Christof

Christof stands just shy of six feet, and weighs in at about 170 pounds. Whilst he isn’t the beefiest, he makes it up with his viciousness when fighting. His dark hair is usually left in an unruly mop, since he doesn’t bother with it too much. On the days where looking presentable is a requirement, he just slicks it all back with some hair gel. While he isn’t one for dressing up all fancy (his wardrobe consists mostly of t-shirts, leather jackets, and washed-out jeans), he isn’t against putting on a nice suit once in a while. Christof also wears a lot of jewelry for a guy, string, leather, and beaded bracelets carved with pagan symbols being his go-to choice.

---

Personality: In his human life, Christof had a heart of gold, but all of that was in the past now. The transformation changed more than just his body, it also changed his nature. Abrasive and hot-headed, years of being dead doesn’t seem to have dampened his fiery temper. At first glance, one would assume his feral nature has taken over his ability to reason and talk his way out of a problem, however he is quite charismatic when he needs to be. The only downside being the scathing sarcasm that comes along with it. Most call Christof the atypical asshole without realizing who he is underneath the layers of barbed distrust and anger. At the core, he is broken and quite serious despite how he jokes and makes light of everything. If anything, Christof hates himself more than anyone ever could and is nowhere close to forgiving himself for the past. He is old fashioned when it comes to honor, believing his word when given is law, and never makes a promise he does not intend to keep. Yet beneath all the flaws, he is unflinchingly loyal once you’ve earned his trust and his respect.

Likes: Animals, violence, classical music, gore, cold weather

Dislikes: Bigotry, warm weather, people who talk too much, cowardice, arrogance

History:

ohgod wall of text

The year of 1763 brought the world Christof Jakobsen. Growing up, Christof never found himself without a meal in his childhood. The family of five were well-off enough to survive any harsh Norwegian winters that were thrown at them and the dry summers that threatened to destroy their crops. The young Christof never hesitated to help out with the work, enjoying the simple life he had in the village. Although he kept it a secret, he found himself attracted to those of the same sex - knowing that such a thing was unheard of in this day and age, he kept it a secret from everyone. Christof soon found another that seemed perfect for him, and they fell in love quickly. Secret meetings were arranged between the two and every week, he'd look forward to their illicit trysts under the cover of darkness.

Unfortunately, good things were bound to come to an end. Three days after his twenty-fifth birthday, his family finally found out his dirty, little secret. Disgusted and disgraced by what their son had done, they quickly got to work in an attempt to straighten him out and cleanse him of his so-called sins. It was simple for his father to kill the man that held Christof's heart, disguising his death as nothing more than a hunting accident. His father then dragged him to a whorehouse, forcing women after women on him - making him fuck them until he was “normal” again.

After that fateful day, Christof spent many sleepless nights by himself, pining for his lost love. It took him a while to decide, but he finally resolved to end it when it all proved too much for him to bear. He planned to kill himself, to erase all evidence that he ever existed. Stepping off the wooden bridge with a large, heavy rock tied around his ankle, the last thing he remembered before the darkness finally claimed him was a piercing pain in his neck.

To Christof, it felt as though he was only unconscious for a moment. When he woke up, a warm liquid was trickling pass his lips, and soon, he found himself sucking hungrily from his maker’s wrist. The taste of blood was both revolting and intoxicating. As much as Christof wanted to pull away, once he tasted the blood, there was no stopping. He knew what he’d become - stories of blood-drinking creatures stalking their prey at night... He had always dismissed it as an old wives’ tale, but now, he knew better.

Christof’s maker urged him to take revenge, to kill all the people who had ever wronged him, and he complied. Within a few days, he had brutally murdered his family, but the bloodlust inside of him didn’t stop there as he continued to hunt down the entire village, tearing limbs from the bodies he had once known well. For decades, the newly-turned vampire travelled with his sire across all of Europe. The only thing that kept Christof going was his rage and an uncontrollable lust for blood. The desire to kill and feed was too intense and he relinquished control of his actions completely. After murdering yet another unfortunate family, Christof was ready to move on to the next, but the excitement he once got from each hunt had faded. The fact that it was always the same made it less enjoyable and more of a chore to him than anything. He needed something new, something to excite him once again. The lust for blood was still there, but he no longer found entertainment in killing indiscriminately.

When Christof first learnt of his bloodline, he was somewhat skeptical of it - but the idea seemed so enticing. It didn’t take him long to find out more about this coven, and it was only a matter of time until he felt it was time to leave the nest. His maker didn’t take kindly to such a sentiment though, and thus, Christof set about quietly planning his disposal. It was one week later when he finally carried it out. It was almost too easy, really, perhaps the elder vampire had grown fond of his offspring, and no longer expected any betrayal from him. Unfortunately for him, that was not the case, Christof only had to catch him unawares during his daytime slumber, shovelling burning embers from the nearby fireplace into where he laid. His screams were unearthly as he tried to extinguish the flames before they fully consumed him, but Christof did not relent, only stopping when he was sure that his sire was no more. And then, it was off to see his new family.

You Get What You Give

“Mmm, I dunno,” Allan drawled, palms facing upward in an exaggerated shrug. There was literally zero chance of him ever cooking something successfully, but it was actually kind of fun to mess with Marian like this. The look on her face when he first mentioned making something himself was so priceless, and he couldn’t help but try to elicit another similar response from her. Some good-natured teasing never hurt anybody, right? “I’ve actually been watching the cooking channel a lot and I’m pretty sure I could make one of those fancy-schmancy soufflés if I really tried.”

Just a few seconds later, Allan burst into a fit of thoroughly unmanly giggles. Yes, he was that kind of guy. The kind who laughed so hard at his own jokes he couldn’t ever finish telling it. The thought of himself making a soufflé was so improbable, so absurd, that he just had to laugh. He didn’t want to look too crazy, though, so he stifled his laughter the best he could, and crossed the room to Aria in a few long strides. Clapping his hands together in what he hoped was an apologetic gesture, Allan flashed her an endearingly lopsided smile.

“I’d love a short stack, and maybe a black coffee to go with it, if you’d be so kind. You’re the best, Aria.” Allan said, that smile on his face morphing into a shit-eating grin. However, his expression turned into one of mock indignation when Aria said he looked like a loser. He placed a hand over his heart, as if overcome with emotion. Two could play at that game, and Allan never was the one to back down from a challenge. Well… this wasn’t really a challenge, but his ego demanded he respond in kind.“That really hurts, Aria. I’m the coolest kid around! Everyone knows that! You know what? I take it back. You are not, in fact, the best.”

In spite of all this, Allan still made his way over to the booth where Marian was sitting. It was starting to get busy, the rest of the diner’s staff slowly but surely streaming in. He smoothly slipped into the booth, hands resting on the table, fingers steepled. Allan listened to her talk about the Finnigan job with an eyebrow raised. Of course, he’d heard about it. But that was Robert’s shtick, and intel-gathering wasn’t really his job. All Allan could do was hope that their glorious leader didn’t fuck things up, because if he did, it would no doubt be disastrous. Speaking of the devil, there he was right outside, throwing a slight wave their way. Allan returned the gesture, arching an eyebrow at his slightly ridiculous disguise.

“You’re right, he was a creep. But he got what was coming to him.” Allan spoke up suddenly, deciding to make some small-talk as he turned back to Marian. Mindless chatter was his forte, after all. Talking about someone they just robbed was not the most exciting subject though, and he was more than glad when Marian changed the subject. Her stenographer comment brought Allan flashbacks of high school. Passing notes in class, slipping a love letter into your the star quarterback’s locker when no one was looking… Ah, teenage love. “Ooh, now I’m interested. A crush? Don’t be afraid, you can tell Papa Allan everything.”