Name: Adrien Alexander van Aelst

Age: 106; But looks more like 19

Gender: Male

Breed: Vampire

Rank: Leader

((Since no one is coming on {future members are always welcome} I guessI give the say so to start, but I could use some help to liven up the plot a bit. Any idea's? Send an rMail to me. Thanks. Here's the intro. I'll use Captus as he's my only charrie currentely, although I may choose to take on another.))

The war was getting harder

Berated with blows which can't seem to touch my icy cold, pale and pasty skin, I march forward. I show no fear. No mercy. I plot. I picture my enemy as the monster that I have become. I let my sense's go, and I feel all loss of hope. I'm ready, for war.

My troops of blood-thirsty, pale vampires march forward, without feeling, without a sense of dignity, of reality. Feeding, has become harder. The whole vampire race has noticed. That is why we are here. We must kill, to live. I still have some sense to my rage's. I don't need as much. That marks me as an outcast.

Still, they march, onward. Stepping over the bodies of those gone before them. Their eyes don't even glimpse at the carnage. The blood bath. They simply march. I do notice. I've always noticed. 

I can't stop the oncoming rush of guilt as I see the bodies. Some of them I knew. Most of them, though, are nobodys. No one knows who they are any more. Their blood has been sucked until they run dry, their muscle and fat has been eaten by demons and werewolves, their very bones have been cast away. Their souls, if they are still left, are sent to Hell.

Ever since the war for supremecy, the Angels left heaven. Without them, the gates have closed. No one has been allowed in heaven in years. Hell is the only place left. That's where the demons rule. If they don't drive you crazy, your tortures will.

I force my eyes to look up. The sky is grey with the drifting clouds that seem to be no more than a wisp of smoke. There hasn't been rain in three months. The werewolves are suffering. No one will offer them help. Just as no one will offer us Vampires help. It is a dog eat dog world.

There's one golden rule; You Live, or You Die.

Name:

Jade Aleara Simons

Nicknames: 

Allie

Age:

21 years

Gender:

Fae

Breed:

Werewolf

Rank:

Alpha

Human Form Looks:

Jade has medium length, dark red hair, with a mix of brown in it. Her skin is pale, dotted with simple brown freckles, and evenly placed, slightly impressioned dimples when she let her too shiny smile show. Her canine teeth seem just a little bit too long, and her teeth shine unaturally, even without the help of the sun, when it shows, at least. Her eyes are almond shaped, with long black eyelashes, and purple irises brought on by the shift. She has dark red circles that surround her eyes in a thin circle, and extremely dark red pupils, all brought on by the shift. Her eyes used to be a placid mottle brown in color, but when she became a werewolf, they changed, along with her complection. Her cheekbones seem to high up on her face, and stand out just a tiny bit. Her arms are long and wiry. Her legs are also long, yet they have nicely toned muscle. She is skinny, but you can't see her ribs or anything. Even when your on top of a kngdomnd you lead the pack, you get all of the best meat.

Looks:

Her wolf has a mixed color pelt. On her back in long streaks of fur is a black color. Then, along her sides, is a red tone. Under neath and on the underside of her tail and belly is a cream color which doesn't seem to fit. None of the colors match or blend into the other extremely well, and her fur, although smooth and well groomed, is bristly and bushy. Her legs are long and have good muscle tone on them, especially on her flanks and shoulders. Her ears are large and rounded at the tips, with slightly brownish red fur coloring them. Her eyes are mostly the dark dark red of her human formpupil, except there is a flash of purple somewhere in there. Her tongue is pale pink, and her gums are almost white at times. Her chest is thin, yet not starved. Her tail is bushy and covered in a mix of black and red fur, with a thin cream streak underneath. She stands tall at 6'2", and she's quite lengthy at 7'3". Although being big comes with the shift.

Personality:

She can be nervous and mistrusting when meeting newcomers for the first time. She will not accept strangers in to her Pack Kingdom. Not unless they some how proove their worthiness to her. She can even suspect a newcomer's motives if she finds them fishy enough.

She tends to be a little bit impatient, although she's working on it. Unlike some other leaders, *cough*demonessHannah*cough* *cough*, she can choose to be fair, although she does have a short patience. You would be wise not to anger her, because her size in wolf form gives her the advantage if it comes to a fight.

She tries to be just and kind, although she hates continuous arguments. You can bet she will get invovled, and the wolf who did wrong will get punished.

She hates fighitng without cause, and often decalres her and her Pack Kingdom Neutral when war breaks out between two of the other kingdoms. This is to protect her Wolves from uneccessary battles.

Relationships:

N/A

RP Sample:

See Captus's RP Sample.

The day was slightly overcast but rays of sunlight perked through the clouds at random intervals, coloring patches of earth a deep golden tone. Quick pawsteps sent up puffs of dirt as a lithe sandy-furred form strode out of the woods, a small contigent of various animals streaming out behind her. Head held high despite her small appearance the female caracal's quick gray-blue eyes surveyed the scene in front of her in a detached manner, as if she did not care to be here at this time. With a flick of her tail she summoned the two other shapeshifters to follow, their large figures, a wolf and mountain lion respectively, casting a shadow on their leader.

Long legs strode forwards resolutely as the caracal's shape twisted slightly, melting into the upright form of a rather tall human. Without breaking her stride the woman grinned, waved a hand and then headed up a cobbled path that lead to the war counsel. Sandaled feet slapped echoingly as Gellyn strode forwards resolutely, her face falling slightly as the building came in view. 

It was a long log-house sort of structure, though fashioned out of finely hewn rock. The sides were mottled gray and rose to support wooden beams that created the four walls. A fine shingled roof topped it off. Pushing her hands into her pockets Gellyn sighed heavily and walked up the stairs slowly, her feet dragging slightly. A loud cough from one of her followers sped her up slightly and Gellyn padded into the spacious room with a quietness that was characteristic of her species. Her mouth twisted at the sight of the Demon Queen, who had already settled in the largest chair. Raising a brow at the fair-skinned lady across from her Gellyn draped herself gracefully on the cushioned seat, slumping slightly with an air of boredom surrounding her.

Oh, if only she could be somewhere else. 

Jade felt her thin wolf body bear the unual rise in temperature. It was hot, but there was no sun. 'Ironic' Jade thought, her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she panted for breath. Before her stood a building, not fancy or anything, but important enough to still be standing.

Jade pelt microscopic beads of sweat drip slowly down her muzzle and face. 'Why is it so da.mn hot?' she thought. There was no answer to her question, and she quickly moved on.

She let a slight rippling sensation pass through her body within a few seconds, releasing her anger, and just relaxing. Instead of the red wolf standing on the burning tarmac which burned her paws, was a woman, dressed in ripped jeans which were so tattered from use, and a t-shirt which said in faded blood red letters, 'Led Zepplin'. She had stolen it off some dead kid.

Jade made her way forward towards the building. Unlike some posch Leaders, she had chosen to come without a whole array of bodyguards and servants. Up the stairs she travelled and she stood facing a metal door with no windows to see inside. This was for secrecy, but it was also so she couldn't see who was already in the Meeting Room. It was a rather crude invention by humans, but it had its uses.

She pushed gently on the doors, and then harder as they didn't open on the first try. The door swung open and she nearly lost her balance, but quickly regained her pride by not tripping. Jade walked rather quickly and took  seat next to a rather nervous looking shape-shifter. Conversation wasn't available, but by the looks of the shape-shifter over the demon, she would take the shape-shifter any day.

Jade resigned herself to staring at the metallic gray doors, willing them to swing open and break the awkward silence that crowded the room.

Name: Michael (like the archangel)

Nicknames: None

Age: 483

Gender: Male

Breed: Angel

Rank: Leader

Looks: Michael is a tall and handsome man, looking to be in his mid-thirties. The leader of the angels is a towering 6'5, eyes a striking bright blue. The span of his snowy white wings is twice that when fully extended, filling any space quite easily. Usually he only extends them in flight, though is not afraid to use them as a form of intimidation, since the sight of their heavily muscled mass can be a bit imposing for one who isn't used to the sight.

His body matches his wings as far as build is concerned, making him look rather like a moving mountain. A broad chest and wide shoulders meet the eye level of the Archangel's number one foe, her Majesty the Demon Queen. This suits him just fine, as it forces her to look up quite a distance to meet his cooblue gaze. Those electric eyes provide a sharp contrast against the shaggy black waves of his hair and the Grecian bronze cast of his skin. He is in every way the Demoness's opposite,and plans on keeping it that way.

However, similar to the Demoness, Michael chooses a more archaic style of clothing, preferring the style of a Renaissance lord to more modern styles.

Personality: Again, complete opposite of his nemesis, the Demoness. Michael is a gentle, compassionate, and caring leader. He despises unnecessary violence, and should hate war. But Michael was appointed by God to be the War Leader of the angels, and so some small part of him longs for the dreadful thing. This has created smething of in internal struggle in the Archangel. On one side, what angel relishes the rush of battle, and seeing the enemy cowed before him? On the other, he was built for war. He is the Sword of God, with a name that, in the old tongue, means 'Who is like God'. Then, if he is like God, is it the merciful God of the New Testament, or the wrathful, jealous God of the Old?

This has plagued Michael for quite some time, making him emotionally unstable and quick to snap at the slightest provocation. Only one thing is certain to him, and that is that evil must be eradicated at whatever the cost. Usually Michael does his best to hide serious breakdowns from the public eye, but things have been getting steadily worse since hemade the decision to remove the angels from Heaven and their usual tasks to focus on the war. Without the souls, angels have been dying without replacement, while his enemy's ranks expand. It makes him feel terrible, knowing that he is to blame for the torture of innocent souls, only adding to the guilt and pressure weighing down on Michael's considerable shoulders.

Family: The Archangels are Michael's only family, with the exception of God the Father. So: Gabriel, Uriel, Chamuel, Raphael, Zofiel, and Zadkiel, the oter six archangels.

RP Sample: See Hannah's example