Ab Antiquo

Posted: **Fri Jul 12, 2024 9:42 pm**

***MATURE | Depictions of violence, blood, and sexual content are detailed below in this character sheet.***

一 SKILLS
Spoken languages: Portuguese, English, survival Japanese
Charismatic: easily disarms anyone when wanted; gift of gab |
Resourceful: problem-solving skills even in stressful situations |
Leadership: personal laws applied to self and those around him, delegates tasks, promotes teamwork |
Traditional & graphic art: despite no formal training is naturally talented in practical arts |

二 STRENGTHS
Confident: self-assurance from within and outward physical appearance |
Protective: willing to defend those he deems worthy |
Self-sufficient: unburdened by the needs of others |
Courageous: not dissuaded from dangerous situations |

三 WEAKNESSES
Vengeful: emotionally driven, any little perceived slights earn his wrathful retaliation |
Reckless: lack of foresight even if behaviors aren't appropriate |
Confrontational: attacks issues and problems immediately without allowing for the full concept to register |
Immoral: willing to push his own or others beyond boundaries, repercussions not an issue |

四 VIOLENCE
Accidental kills: one |
Purposeful kills: numerous |

五 MISCELLANEOUS
Sexual orientation: predominantly homosexual, only incidentally heterosexual |
Kinsey scale: 5 |
Astrological sign: capricorn |
Dominant hand: right |
Alignment: lawful evil |

Posted: **Mon Aug 05, 2024 7:47 pm**

Posted: **Mon Aug 05, 2024 7:56 pm**

"I am the punishment of God. If you had not committed great sins, God would not have sent a
punishment like me upon you."

Genghis Khan |

一 THEN
Outside, thunder boomed, lightning struck, and rain poured relentlessly from the sky. The San Diego summer of 2003 was proving to be a contender for strong storms and even stronger parties. The natural sounds from outside didn't penetrate the thick, concrete walls of the club. On the exterior of the building the brick was dirty, deteriorated, and ugly, but inside there was a flash of bright colors, the throbbing of deep bass, and the pungent sweat of too many bodies packed inside a too-small space. Hardly anyone escaped the heat and pulse that night to even grab a cigarette outside. With how packed the place was, people smoked inside, daring anyone to throw them out and with them, their limitless pockets.

Roque's heartbeat drummed as desperately in his ears as the music did. He danced with every woman that pushed their bodies up against his, shamelessly grabbing their asses when they didn't object to his touch on their lower back. These were his peers, people he should have been in university with but wasn't. They were his friends that he never brought over to meet his mother, guys from the fraternity he told his father he was part of, classmates, teammates, and so on.

He flipped the woman around so her ass ground against his crotch, but he felt nothing, not even a stir. She didn't notice, as it wasn't her goal, but it was all he could focus on. His arms locked around the front of her body so that they moved to the beat together, but when she lifted her chin to try and catch his lips with hers, he lifted his head too. Across the club, he locked eyes with a man he didn't notice before. The flashing lights broke their concentrated stare, but when they stayed on for longer than a few seconds, he was still there, not dressed for clubbing, eyes heavy and dark, and standing. It was the fact that he was so clearly out of place that drew the ire of four random men, all from the same Kappa Sigma Delta that Roque's father thought he was part of. He was supposed to be studying for a law degree, something better for himself than they ever had. That's what the American dream was about, not wasting time painting or drawing. There was no use in art and no money in any profession that you didn't wear a suit in.

The lights flashed again, this time cutting out for the laser-only portion of the night. In the dark, exclusively aided by neon strips of light, Roque barely saw the fight starting at the bar. One minute he saw the deep sadness of a man he wanted to know more about, the next all he managed to make out was the four blond white men, arms and fists coming in all directions. The bouncers of the club were on the group in seconds, shoving the five of them out the back, into the alley, and the storm outside. Roque's heart beat harder and faster for a different reason, as his partner noticed, he wasn't dancing anymore. She slapped his chest and moved on to dance with the next willing man. He could have been anyone for her, but he wasn't interested.

He pushed through the crowd, towards the door that the staff tossed the five men out of, but they stood taller, broader, and angrier than he did. He cursed them but made his way to the entrance. Behind him, the heavy door shut, silencing the music and crowd, only to be replaced by the deep boom of thunder and quick crash of lightning. The rain cooled his skin, a welcome relief from the stifling heat inside. He went around the corner and down the alley he thought they must have been or, rather, he hoped.

At first, he heard nothing but the sound of the storm overhead, but then his ears picked up on the sound of wet flesh smacking against one another and the telltale signs of a fight. His pace quickened until he could put faces to the senseless curses and grunting. The second the first slur came out of one of their filthy, rich mouths Roque threw a punch at the back of one of their heads. It landed with a sickening crack and the man went down.

"Say it again," he dared, but was already punching the next guy in the jaw after easily dodging one of his sloppy throws. Down he went too, but his friends found new slurs to call Roque and the beaten and bloody man who Roque was attempting to rescue.

The sight of the innocent man bleeding, coughing, and laying helplessly on the ground, conscious, earned Roque quick punches to the gut and face from the other two combatants. He spit blood and the rage boiled over inside of him, forcing out a yell that lasted as long as he beat the man closest to him. His friend stumbled back when he fell with Roque on top of him, who didn't stop burying his fists into the guy's face with all of his strength. By that time, the first two started to stumble up, looking on in horror at the mess of bones, blood, and carnage that was now their fraternity brother's face.

"He fucking killed him!" one of them shouted and for fear that his rage would soon end and turn on them, the three of them ran.

Roque kept punching, well past when he should have stopped, only hesitating when he heard the innocent man cough and try to speak. His fists trembled, and for the first time, he saw the mess of what once was a face. He never saw such butchery up so close, let alone at his own hands. There was no doubt this man was dead. Roque scrambled backward off of the body, scooting until he was next to the stranger he killed someone over.

"Thanks," the man said, his voice strained. "I... I..." he stuttered, cut off by Roque.

"We have to get out of here," he said urgently, finally forcing himself to stand and then help the stranger to his feet.

"I'm Hiram," the stranger said.

"Roque," he answered, hoisting Hiram up to carry the brunt of his weight. |

二 AFTER
The only thing louder than the pounding on the locked front door was the early summer bugs that screamed incessantly outside, even in a city like Ravenblack. With several windows on the first floor of the too-large estate open, the smell of the outside became tangled with the blood and carnage on the inside. Roque paced, barefoot, back and forth across the dirty, sticky carpet, his enhanced supernatural senses flicking from one sound to the other, only forgetting both when his fangs came back out at the thick scent of a fresh kill. The woman lay across the expensive sofa at an unnatural angle, her beautiful green eyes staring blankly up in Roque's direction, blood trailing from several spots on her body in rivets down her arm until they finally dripped off and landed in a puddle with a plop.

"Takeshi?" called an unfamiliar female voice from outside. She knocked on the door again, perhaps sensing the urgency of her client's call. This was the first time she met him anywhere that wasn't a dirty motel and the first time she could put a structure to the building he described to her many times over the last few years of their affair.

Roque's eyes snapped over to the door, but it was Hiram who moved to open it finally. Their argument was still fresh, clinging to the air around them and charging it was a dangerous violence.

"Hello Elodie," Hiram said, the weight of each syllable hanging in the air.

"Elodie!" Roque exclaimed, clapping his hands together once before opening his arms up as if to embrace her.

"Is that...?" she mumbled, asking Hiram.

"Roque," Hiram answered.

"We were just having the best conversation about you and I had to meet you," Roque explained to the human woman, whose hairs were standing up on the back of her neck. Shortly after, her eyes caught sight of the dead woman strewn out on the couch behind Roque. She stammered and took a step backward into Hiram's chest. "Takeshi?" she choked out, but Hiram said nothing.

"No, no. Come in, please. Sit down," he ordered, pushing the woman off the sofa and onto the floor. The once pristine couch was soaked and stained with blood, but Roque acted as if he couldn't see it when he pointed for Elodie to take a seat.

"I'm not sure what's going on, but I haven't told anyone that you're vampires! I swear, I wouldn't. Takeshi is very dear to me--" she sputtered, getting cut off by Roque's interjection.

"Sit!" Roque commanded.

Elodie hugged her purse closer, carefully walking over to where Roque pointed. When she sat, she felt the hot, wet blood start to seep into her pants, coating the back of her thighs with sticky.

"Tell me what he told you," Roque demanded.

"Not much, I swear! Just that you're vampires and there were others, that you both made. That you run a business together!" she trembled.

"What kind of business?" Roque snapped.

"A-an art business! You're partners. You're an artist and he's a dealer. He helps to take care of the selling of your art so you can focus on painting. Takeshi, I swear--" she started.

"His name is Hiram Matsuda, not whatever lie he's told you too!" Roque exclaimed, all the while his attention solely on her and not the silent figure of Hiram standing by the door, with his hands in his pockets.

Realization dawned on Elodie's face and she looked between both of them. "I didn't know," she whispered. "I didn't know when he said partners, I thought business partners! I didn't... He didn't... I..." she stammered. "Please, just let me go and I won't say anything. We can all forget about each other! I had no idea, Roque," she begged.

Instead of answering her directly, though his eyes stayed on hers, Roque said, "I'm hungry. I'm not full from earlier. Are you hungry, Hiram?"

"I'm hungry," Hiram said without a fight, though with far less enthusiasm than Roque.

"Takeshi--Hiram! Please! You know my mother won't survive if I'm dead, please!" she begged, the full fear of her predicament settling in.

"Well, I don't want to do that to your poor innocent mother," Roque said as if he were truly regretful. "I have a better idea," he said, ignoring Elodie's pleas for her life. "I think it's time Arturo learned responsibility," Roque said, finally turning to look Hiram in the eyes.

"Roque..." Hiram warned, ready to start up another argument about how they both slept with their progenies.

"Call him," Roque demanded, leaving the worst of what could happen if Hiram didn't comply unsaid between them.

Their eyes stayed locked while Hiram hit the button to call Arturo, phone to his ear. Roque could hear every little tender tone shared between them and it made his stomach twist up. He gnashed his teeth together and ground his jaw, but waited patiently for the confirmation from Hiram that Arturo was on his way and would be joining the three of them shortly.

Before Arturo showed up, the formal living room started to populate with other faces that Elodie didn't recognize, several of which were women and the other vampires that Hiram always spoke about. She could almost put names to their faces based on their descriptions.

Suddenly, the front door opened and closed, followed by the gentle sound of another man's voice. "Hiram, what--?" Arturo started to ask, taking just as much note of the others there as Elodie did. Finally, his attention settled on her, the only human there, shaking and sitting quietly on a bloodied couch, but it wasn't her blood. Not yet.

"Tell him Hiram," Roque demanded. "Congratulate him."

"No," Hiram refused. "I won't do that. He doesn't want that--"

"Tell him," Roque said, more forceful than before. They shared a silent stare, but it was Roque who won out in the end. It was always Roque who won.

"Meet Elodie," Hiram said as gently as he could, turning to face Arturo fully. "She's joining the family," he explained slowly, watching the expression of confusion change on Arturo's face to that of horror.

"No," Arturo whispered. "I won't. I can't."

"You will. You're ready," Hiram urged as Roque watched on with satisfaction.

Arturo's attention left Hiram, to the women at the back, one of which was his long-time girlfriend turned-wife, Daniela. Not even she gave him a sympathetic look. He looked to Carrot, who always treated him kindly, but neither she nor Saito said anything. They were all in agreement that he would do this, that he would turn this woman, all because Roque demanded it. He shook his head, swallowed, and took a step back, but Hiram reached out and caught his arm.

"You must," Hiram pleaded, clearly more fearful of Roque than respecting Arturo's wishes.

Arturo ground his teeth together, much like Roque had earlier, and this little switch gave Roque some pleasure he was seeking. "Fine," he grunted.

"Wait, what are you doing? Please!" Elodie pleaded, pushing at Arturo who easily overpowered her. He didn't take his time in biting down and draining her blood, forcing his own down her throat, and killing her.

"There," he grunted, wiping her blood off of his mouth with the back of his hand. No matter how much he wanted to get up and leave her, or wish she never woke up, he was invested now. His blood filled her, his poison changed her as she lay there, dead. Lovingly, he gathered her up in his arms, holding her head with a gentleness against his chest as he stood with her in his arms.

"Now that wasn't so hard," Roque smiled. From the back of the room, Daniela made a sound and left, followed closely by Emilia and Sisilia. The rest of the Matsuda lineage filed out shortly after, none of them congratulating Arturo, nor saying anything cross with Roque. "Take her up to a room and wait for her to wake up," Roque commanded, watching as Arturo did as he was told, without another word or struggle. Finally, it was just Roque, Hiram, and the body of the woman who previously owned the estate they temporarily claimed as their own.

"Fuck you," Hiram muttered.

"Fuck me? Fuck you!" Roque spat back.

"He's never going to forgive me. I betrayed him. You made me hurt him," Hiram said.

"No, no, no," Roque said rapidly. "I didn't do anything," he said, putting extra emphasis on himself. "You did it. You told him to do it. You could have told me no, but you didn't. You wanted him to do it. Or you wouldn't have made him," Roque explained.

"That's not what happened," Hiram argued, the stress of the situation finally settling into his body. He rushed Roque, shoving him with all of their combined force hard against the nearest column. Roque quickly grabbed Hiram by the throat, flinging Hiram off of him to the wall and the ground. When he growled, he bared his fangs at Hiram, who answered him from the floor with his own growl and show of teeth. If it was a real fight Hiram wanted, he would have it.

They traded blows back and forth, more of Roque's landing than Hiram's, furniture around them breaking, expensive items crashing to the floor, shards of glass sticking like needles to a pincushion in the flesh of the deceased woman. Just as their fight started to escalate, Hiram grunted out, "Fuck me!"

Roque grabbed him by the throat and squeezed. "Fuck me, Roque," Hiram pleaded, that time making it clear what he wanted. With another growl, Roque pushed Hiram down over the back of the sofa, grabbing the fabric of his cheap suit pants. He waited only a moment more before actually following through by tugging at the fabric until it split and came off Hiram in shreds. |

三 NOW
Neon lights flashed at slow intervals, turning from all shades of pink to green in a wave made of rainbows. The steady beat of a bass thumped against Teddy's ears thanks to the headphones he wore, enveloping him in the moment of his gaming session. He didn't hear the tap of knuckles on his door, or notice Kiichi and Roque were in his room until he felt Kiichi's hand on his shoulder. Quickly, he exited his guild's raid, assuring himself that he would apologize to them later. The beat continued to thrum out of his headphones even as he set them down on his desk, swiveling in his chair to look fully at both men in his room.

"On your way Kiichi," Roque instructed, watching as he left Teddy's room and eventually, their shared apartment. "Don't get up," Roque said to Teddy, holding his hand out to stop him from moving.

"I, uh, I--sorry, why are you here?" Teddy asked, despite the lump in his throat that welled up. He wondered what he failed to do and how long he would have to explain before his head was separated from his body.

"I need a favor. Something only you can do. Trust me, I hate being here and asking as much as you love me in your room," Roque stated blandly. "I have a special job. One you can't tell anyone you're involved in, Theodore," he said, not explicitly stating the threat that loomed between them.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, go ahead," Teddy sputtered.

"Can you hack into the systems that the local hunters and paladins run on? See the information? Get information to them?" Roque asked.

"Uhm, yeah. Should be able to... I don't see why not. If they run on the same systems as we do, they should have access to everything we do. Cameras, data mining--" Teddy rambled.

"I don't need to know every detail. Can you do it or not?" Roque asked.

"Yes," Teddy replied.

"Good. I need you to get a message to their systems. Tell them where to find someone," Roque said, now looming over where Teddy still sat in his computer chair.

"Who do you--" Teddy started to ask, but Roque cut him off with an address. He stared right past Teddy and at the computer screen behind him. Teddy knew who lived there and the implications of such a bold move. He didn't dare question Roque further. He turned around, tabbed out of his game, and went to work hacking into the systems of their enemies, only to feed them information on the whereabouts of vampires in their lineage. He did as Roque demanded, making Arturo and Elodie their prime targets, but these mortals lived by their own code. No one was safe and others lived there too.

Teddy felt like his heart pounded in his chest, like he could hear it in the space between his ears where his brain still was, only, now he couldn't say for certain that he still had a brain. This was, by far, the dumbest thing he ever did, even if it meant his survival. He was wrong for it, selfish, and weak, and Roque knew it.

Months passed in silence, with only the first incident and point of contact between paladins and vampires being on the verge of the worst-case scenario. Much to Roque's dismay, Arturo survived each attack, killing every hunter or paladin that came after him until he became a target for them on his merit as a paladin killer.

At first, it seemed to work, to drive Arturo and Hiram farther apart, but as time is known to be cruel, the constant danger only brought them together. The night Roque found out they were bound together in blood, despite Hiram obeying Roque to sever Arturo from the lineage, was the biggest blow in their fight over Hiram.

Instead of enraging him further, it began to pacify Roque, who never wanted Hiram to not be his, to not want him, and put him above anyone else. What did the binding in blood ritual that Hiram and Arturo did even mean in comparison to how Roque and Hiram bound their blood? Or what happened when you created another vampire? There was something different about it, something rooted in truth and love, not just selfish need. It scared Roque so much that the ledge looked less like a dive into a river of life-blood and more like a fall into a deep pool of darkness, of emptiness, of nothingness. It didn't matter that Teddy completed his task as far as they were both concerned, or that they stopped sending tips to the paladins, they came nonetheless, and they came incessantly for Arturo, who spent much of his time sneaking off with Hiram.

Hiram was always careful to never lie about where he was going, but omit the truth that Arturo would be there waiting for him, where they would find comfort in each other's bodies, each other's lips. It was a knife in Roque's back, in his stomach, in his entire being that started to break him. He hated Arturo. |

Posted: **Mon Aug 05, 2024 8:03 pm**

一 NAME
Carrot | Aimee |

二 PRONOUNS
She/her |

三 DISCORD
carrotfield |

四 CONTACT
Preferred contact is through PM on this forum |

五 LIMITS and BOUNDARIES
Absolutely will not write sexual or romantic relationships |

六 THREADS
- Work in Progress |

七 CREDITS
Character sheet layout design by: Broccoli/Jamie |
Character diamond portraits design by: me |
Header image edit by: me |
Section line breaks by: Broccoli/Jamie & Carrot/Aimee
Section title gifs by: Broccoli/Jamie |
Gifs: Vampires the Masquerade Bloodlines 2 & Cyberpunk 2077 |

Ab Antiquo

Roque

Roque

Re: Roque

Re: Roque

Re: Roque