History is in Blood [OPEN]

[GAVRIIL RASPUTIN]

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=style, width:300px; background-color:#222; border-right:4px solid crimson;] HOLY WATER CANNOT HELP YOU NOW -- Rubbing the back of his neck in aching pain he finished writing down on the board the homework assignment for tonight expecting it done and ready to be handed in tomorrow as the bell rang, “In addition I vant you to read chapters three and four. Failure to do so may result in failure of a test.” He said as the groans echoed throughout the students. Sitting down behind his desk, he watched them filter out one and one, before sighing as he pushed up the rim of his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. History was a fine subject, needed for in his point of view, but since it was such a...'normal' subject, many students called it 'boring' and rarely showed up for class. As a result a good number of them were failing his course, he'll have to talk to the headmaster about this. There was also the fact that Rogues were increasing their attacks on the school so that even STUDENTS aren't safe. If things continued on the way they were even Gavriil HIMSELF will have to start protecting them. Not that it was a problem, being from the ex-military he was trained well and those skills had yet to fade since the war ended. There was no problem with him holding his own as he is an empowered himself. Despite his rather ordinary class, he, himself, was anything but, he had a power just like the students in the school. The difference though is that he just didn't use his powers as often as they did or as the teachers themselves did. Turning back to the papers on his desk, he began to mindlessly sort them, even as he heard a small childish giggle. “Hello Papa...”

[/b] that hauntingly familiar voice said which never failed at catching his attention. Tightening his grip on the papers he took a deep inhale before letting it out, “Hello...snowflake.” He greeted, speaking in his native tongue. There was another giggle as he saw from the corner of his eye the white dress that she wore, that she always wore, a contrast to his bright blonde hair. He wanted to look at her, but he kept his eyes firmly on the papers before him, he couldn't be tempted.

If anything however, his stubbornness amused her as she draped herself over his back, watching as he clenched his jaw in response, “Papa...You love me right?”[/b] She asked, which was silly, they both knew the answer; of course he loved her, his child, his treasure. “You know I do, snowflake.” He answered back, feeling her small hands on his shoulders as she leaned closer to his ear, “Then how come you don't kill anymore?”[/b]

That made Gavriil jerk as he lifted up his head to stare straight ahead, his hand clenching into fists, throughly crumpling what he had in his hands. Golden eyes peered into his own as the baby fat filled face grinned at him with his pink rosy cheeks. She would be adorable if it wasn't for what she just said. “Why do you deny yourself Papa? You aren't like the others, you cannot be like them. You love blood, the color, the smell, the [/b]taste.You can't really believe you can be a sheep...”[/b] She gestured around the building before moving back and standing in front of her father with her hands on her hips, “I know because I am your daughter.”[/b]

His dead daughter, one that didn't see passed her fifth birthday. Absently he reached up and gripped the side of his scarred face in an attempt to keep those thoughts back, ones of blood, of destruction, of DEATH. He loved those things, almost to an...obsessive level, but he could never act out on them...he couldn't, they were wrong, forbidden!

But that didn't make it any less tantalizing to actually try and do. [/div]

i've come to burn your kingdom down.

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MADE BY RIVER!, WHO GOT GANGNAM STYLE

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[CAPRICIA GIOVANNI]

[atrb=cellpadding, 0, true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px; padding: 5px;][STYLE=background-image: url(http://subtlepatterns.com/patterns/dark_wall.png); padding: 17px;][STYLE=font-family: georgia; font-size: 17px; font-style: italic; line-height: 20px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #FF4D00; text-shadow: 1px 1px 0px #495454;][STYLE=font-size: 60px; float: left; text-transform: uppercase; margin: 8 -5 0 5;]N[/style]ow I must admit that I have played a part,[/style][STYLE=font-family: georgia; font-size: 8px; margin: 0 10 5 60; line-height: 8px; text-transform: uppercase; color: #FF4D00; text-align: justify; opacity: .9;]In the way that things have gotten out of hand But it's escalated almost to an art I want to fix him but I don't think I can I'm falling deep into a pit of vipers Ov``er me, over me and I can't break free Secrets run deep when you're in a pit of vipers Slithering, whispering, feel the venom poisoning me[/style][STYLE=padding-left: 10px; border-left: 1px dashed #FF4D00; border-bottom: 1px dashed #FF4D00; border-radius: 10; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; color: #cccccc; margin: 5 0 0 50; padding-bottom: 60px;]It turned out that her encounter with the Rogues on the rooftop was only a mere introduction. The attacks that followed were causing a lot of trouble for both faculties and students. Capricia loved it. The peace and quiet was nice for awhile but after all these years just incredibly boring for the daughter of a weapon merchant. Not to mention it wouldn’t be good for the family business. A ghost of a smirk crept on her face at the thought. Honestly she had been looking forward to this brewing war for quite a while now. She longed –craved for the blood and chaos that would surely come with it, before all this normality drives her into creating her own riot. Val probably wouldn’t like that. The Rogues had caused plenty of trouble for him already and as much as she loved to play with the headmaster (though the man would probably argue that she was only being distracting) Capricia thought she’d cut him some slack today. Maybe she would swing by later and offer him a massage, but for now she needed to find a new source of entertainment, and she knew just where to find it. The clacking of her heels echoed in the hallway until the blonde stopped before a specific classroom. She knocked, then let herself inside the door before hearing any reply. There was a charming curve on her lips as she closed the door behind her. “I hear that you requested my presence, professore.” Capricia purred and approached the teacher slowly. It was a lie, of course, although she’d imagine a lot of the teachers would want to see her since they barely did during class times. He had a serious look on his face when she walked in, distraught, even. Did she come in at a sensitive time? Blinking in slight annoyance Capricia decided to do what she did best, distract others and pull their attention on her. “Soooo,” she sat on the edge of his desk, peering down at the black-haired man with a teasing mezzo, “am I in trouble? Or do you just miss me too much?” (NOTES) i....i don't know. .______。 [/style][STYLE=margin-left: 310px; border: 3px solid #FF4D00; margin-top: -50px; background-image: url(http://i800.photobucket.com/albums/yy290/rgd-l/Vorona/vara95.jpg); height: 100px; width: 100px; border-radius: 50px;][/style][STYLE=font-size: 8px; font-family: tahoma; color: #999999; text-align: center; margin-top: -15px;]TEMPLATE BY PEBBLE OF BTN[/style][/style]