first-born-of-a-lost-hive

[first-born-of-a-lost-hive]

Is it normal to be denied sendin someone asks through a sideblog ? It's been quite a while since I've had a side blog, so not sure if it is a new feature, an old one I done forgot, or what ??

[first-born-of-a-lost-hive]

Not me cacklin in lost sanity as I make people fall for this cocky bastard one play at a time. One server at time. At this rate, I'm convinced he has more rizz than his maker. What say ye Remmi ? 🤣🤣

[first-born-of-a-lost-hive]

"STOP PUTTING YOURSELF INTO DANGER!" PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue for expressing your fear that the person you care about might get themselves hurt if they keep acting like this, adjust as necessary

i thought i told you to stay back.

i love you too much to let you get hurt like this.

this affects me, too, you know.

every time you leave, i sit up all night waiting, praying you'll come back alive.

you keep pulling stunts like this and something bad will happen.

do you have a death wish or something?

this isn't fair to me.

i deserve better than this.

i didn't get any sleep last night because i was so worried about you.

you promised me you'd stop going out at night.

i don't like hearing this.

you've been risking your life, and for what? so you can feel like a goddamn hero?

i said i would handle it.

what the fuck are you doing here?

you told me you'd stay put.

so much for laying low.

you remember how bad it was last time.

seems like you haven't learned anything.

i believe you promised me you'd lay low.

i can't keep doing this.

don't give me that look.

we'll discuss this later.

this stops now.

i'm tired of picking up the pieces once you've left.

you keep throwing yourself into danger.

you don't give a shit about yourself, do you?

i'm sitting here, worried out of my mind, while you're out doing god knows what.

that was really stupid of you, and you know it.

i thought you knew better than this.

what's your excuse this time?

you do realize what this does to me, right? seeing you get hurt like this? you know it hurts me, too?

you really don't give a shit how this affects me, huh.

that was the dumbest possible thing you could have done.

i need you to stop throwing yourself into harm's way.

that was completely unnecessary.

they had it handled.

you didn't need to step in like that.

why do you think you're invincible?

the last time you pulled a stunt like this, it nearly got you killed.

i can't just sit here and watch you get hurt.

what are you trying to prove?

you just like fucking with my heart, don't you.

this shit hurts me, too, you know.

you're not the only one affected by this shit.

you've got a lot of people counting on you to come home every night.

what happens if you don't come back?

you think we can just carry on without you?

you think i can handle things if you end up dead?

i'm not sticking around to watch you get hurt.

you're not even slick.

you think you're invincible, don't you.

quit pretending you've got everything under control.

let someone else do it for a change.

you can't keep putting yourself through shit like this and expect me to just sit back and watch.

i'm done with this.

next time you do this, i'm not coming back.

promise me this is the end.

look me in the eyes and tell me you'll stop doing this.

let the authorities deal with it.

you're making a big mistake.

is it worth dying for?

i've dealt with enough pain over the years.

[first-born-of-a-lost-hive]

"You claim your loyalty lies with me, yet your behaviour says otherwise." / remmick :)

The younger Irishman wasn't for sure how to take such clock. Removing his hat respectively, but nervously a hand combed back through unruly tresses. Yet his feigned composure tracked impassively aloft his expression presenting. Whilst currently racking over his thoughts for any ill received behaviors he may have rubbed the other man wrongly over. Ciarán depicted such wash of unease when he could not track this misbehavior, as if he were being scolded over the mere bustle that went lost upon recollection. " -- but I am loyal ! " Like a child becoming argumentative in fearful recession. " Be I missin somet'in 'ere ? What behavior ? " Curled his tongue in an eager steadiness for resolve. Suddenly curating defensively himself.

" Rem' , I've been not'in but loyal. I 've searched fer ye, y'know ? Wit' our connection somewhat banjaxed , made it a lil ' harder te locate. Surely yer not angry 'bout how long it took fer me te find ye'se. C'mon now, cut me sum' slack " he intended on satirizing rile to be resourceful on lightening the mood. Yet he fumbled more along the hitch of a plea.

@anthologicals

[first-born-of-a-lost-hive]

Politician Sentences, Vol. 15

(Sentences from various sources for politicians and/or muses in political spaces. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Men like us cannot be deterred by bureaucracy!"

"Don't ever tell me what I can and can't do."

"Does brevity exist in your repertoire?"

"I'll go along with your plans, but I want you to admit the truth."

"This will not be going away."

"I assume you've been briefed about the actual facts - or, are you too junior for that?"

"If it's something I need to hide, then I don't want to know about it."

"You're a desperate man, aren't you? You feel your position weakening."

"When you say no, it must be the death of the question. If there's even a hint of maybe, the questions won't stop until they find something they can't say no to."

"What's more surprising to you: that someone made an attempt on your life, or that it hasn't happened more often?"

"I asked you here today to see if you'd come, and you came. I respect that."

"If you make things difficult for me, it won't end well for you."

"You said you liked to back the winning side?"

"How long are you going to make me stand here before you offer me a drink?"

"How can such a shrewd politician be so blind?"

"I love the way you talk - using 40 words where four would do."

"This is personal, isn't it? Finally, after all these years, you've gained a position of power over me, and now you mean to humiliate me."

"If I tell you, what do I get?"

"I'm trying to forget how much I hate politics."

"Believe it or not, not every decision is made for the greater good."

"You claim your loyalty lies with me, yet your behaviour says otherwise."

"When you go to war with someone, you want them emotional. You want them angry. The more they feel, the less they think."

"You know what's so dangerous about you? You justify every act before you commit them."

"So, I take it you've seen the coverage in the papers and on television?"

"You might not be able to control what happens, but you can control what people think about it."

"The best politicians are narcissists."

"Have I missed word of your appointment to some position of authority?"

"At the minimum, for the career to which you aspire, you show the requisite presumption."

[first-born-of-a-lost-hive]

just gunslinger things

[first-born-of-a-lost-hive]

When the falsified lights finally bathed the other Irishman in it's illuminating glow, Ciarán's lips had twitched; a clear indicative amidst subduing another smirk of his own, which wanted to formulate it's slow crawl to an supplementary tease half led unspoken. Yet he refrained, biting the inside of his cheek with serrated edges. " People talk, " he'd more ushered toward an explanation. " Kinda o' big deal fer t'aht many people te go missin' all at once. T'ink t'ah proper term would've been hysteria, Remmy. Hell, m' not one te lay in a squabble o'er it , yer t'ah bossman in t'is matter. But .. " he wavered on a heavy pause. Pursing tiers in this mild distress. " What in t'ah seven hells wer' ye t'inkin turnin' t'aht many -- all at once .. again ? "

Still the first born couldn't help but comb his gaze across his maker's hampered stance, corking a frown abroad his onslaught of taunts. Taunts that clearly clarified how delighted he had been of his return, soon became the riddled verse of worry, and it defined soon his brows whilst they branched together in course of a stern gaze. " An' I t'ought I was s'pose te be t'ah reckless one. " " Just passin, never stayin'. " He emphasized over it immediately after it had been asked. " At least not long enough fer t'ings to get half fecked, y'nno ? " Though, the younger male wanted to desperately scold in all the equal amounted contradictions that Remmick had gone committed against their guidelines as a hive, back when they were connected, to the appointed matter that nearly ended the Elder. In comparison. But for once he had feared ledging out of line over the matter. Fearing repercussions in bringing up what he thought to be error, besides there had been a lot he was missing on this escapade of his. A lot he couldn't even begin to fathom. So they'd only rack the hall of his second thoughts.

However he'd cater to its lingering souse registering with worry by promoting it aloud over a simplified , " -- still.. it's good te know yer still wit' us. " Only partially concealing his relief that might as well be evidently exposed by the fragments of his consolation amidst his glance he purposely veered when he felt the emotional pull. Tutting between jagged teeth. In true Ciarán nature; the man child who feared his own attachments and emotions -- with relief starting to churn into something too near endearment, he'd shift the subject over something entirely bent for distraction. " Hungry ? "

The First Turned and The Maker (Closed RP)

@first-born-of-a-lost-hive

"We'll now.....ain't this a nice surprise" Remmick hummed, leaning his left shoulder against the building - bango resting on his back, and hands in his pockets - eyes shadowed given the lack of light as the area was fast asleep in the middle of the night. However, his eyes could be felt on the familiar face and one could tell there was a bit of a smirk on his lips just by his tone "and here I thought all ya'll died at morning on the ship...."

He had caught the scent before coming across the young man, someone he had not seen in decades - but something was slightly different about remmick. When he pushed off the building he'd been leaning against lightly, the vampire grunted a bit as if he was wounded or still healing "Hello Ciarán"

[first-born-of-a-lost-hive]

The First Turned and The Maker (Closed RP)

@first-born-of-a-lost-hive

"We'll now.....ain't this a nice surprise" Remmick hummed, leaning his left shoulder against the building - bango resting on his back, and hands in his pockets - eyes shadowed given the lack of light as the area was fast asleep in the middle of the night. However, his eyes could be felt on the familiar face and one could tell there was a bit of a smirk on his lips just by his tone "and here I thought all ya'll died at morning on the ship...."

He had caught the scent before coming across the young man, someone he had not seen in decades - but something was slightly different about remmick. When he pushed off the building he'd been leaning against lightly, the vampire grunted a bit as if he was wounded or still healing "Hello Ciarán"

[first-born-of-a-lost-hive]

Ꮯꮖꭺꭱꭺ́ɴ Ꮐꭺꮮꮮꭺꮐꮋꭼꭱ

First Born of a Lost Hive

[ He's going to have a lil bit of Cassidy ( From the show Preacher ) inspiring him. So yeh, he's whimsical. But he also has a mouth on him and a temper to boot.]

Ciarán is affiliated before his death and rebirth with the early stages of the IRA that was originally Irish Volunteers who hadn't quite been established until 1913. But were merely the whispers of their beginnings in formed rebels against the English boot up until his immigration into the Americas in 1911. Stealing from the rich to feed the poor. He had met Remmick through these exploits. The young man was part of his first hive coming into America. He was beguiled and turned by Remmick at the ripe age of twenty. His metamorphosis had also been before the voyage into the states. So he walked onto that ship, the Celtic Hare, with his maker. Both as predators with an agenda shared through their hivemind link. Purpose driven. Hunting as one. They had turned that entire ship amidst their gluttony. Under promise of family, community to thrive on the echoes of home in a foreign land. However, as the tabloids reveal -- it didn't quite work out as planned. Most perished to flame set ablaze by the sun's early rays. To the public it had been discarded as engine failure that caused this unexplained fire to erupt. To quell hysteria. He was thought dead after their arrival. Split apart by the fiery star . Yet he had managed to seek shelter through soil. For a time he laid within river clay earth , nursing those wounds. His connection with his sire had been lost upon this hibernation. Neither of them knew if the other had survived. It wasn't until his awakening , that he began to hear tales . Whispers of an incident down south, down amongst the Mississippi ridge. Seeking answers, he pursued the trail of stories. He was born December 15th in Carrigrohane (Carraig Ruacháin), Co. Cork , Ireland, 1886 to a family of two other siblings. Their father had been abusive to him and the youngest of their liter, whilst leaving his eldest brother on a pedestal built for favoritism. He shot and killed his father one night over these abusive episodes. Protecting himself and his little brother. Thus leaving their mother a widow. For she soon blamed him after in doing so, not listening to reason over why he had done what he done. Thus a mother's love churned sour and he left home to rebel out on the front against the English oppressors. He never saw his brothers again after. Age : Looks forever Twenty. Real age about forty six. Species : Vampire ( First Born to the lost Hive prior to the Celtic Hare ) Height : 5'11 Weight : 185 Eye Colour : Grey scaled crystalline blue. Reflective sheen upon a predatorial edge simmers upon gradient amberish marigold. Flecks that imitate cooled embers. This becomes semi permanent within the iris when the beast's true nature takes hold. Hair Colour : Clove brown Ethnicity: Irish Stature : Athletically lean, though more on the lanky side of things. Favourite meal : The blood type 0 / 0 negative, or blood with high levels of alcohol consumption. Since alcohol has lost it's natural taste since his rebirth. Peculiar traits : Always seen wearing a revolver tucked away within an gun rig across his hip. Fond of the flat billed short top hat, hardly seen without it. Surprisingly an excellent marksman. An remarkable fiddle player, and an exceptional uilleann pipe player. Occasionally seen with a tin whistle or flute when drawn upon a session. His lineage can trace back to the Filidh, quite possibly the reason Remmick had his eyes on him. However, those traits waned by his generation. As for the story of him obtaining an American gun rig and revolver. He stole it off a British officer, who in turn won it on a trip over seas. After that officer had told stories about gunslingers and outlaws in the Americas. A very young and impressionable Ciar fell in love with those stories , and in his obsessions, they became the sole culprit why he acts and dresses the way he does.

Follows under @soil-from-slaghtaverty . This is a side blog. All are welcome as long as they're of age. Duplicates are most welcome. OяɪɢɪηαƖ Cʜαяαᴄᴛєя from ᴿʸᵃⁿ ᑦᵒᵒᵍˡᵉʳ'ˢ Ꮪꮖɴɴꭼꭱꮪ ᴿᵒˡᵉ ᴾˡᵃʸ ᴮˡᵒᵍ | Rules and Guidelines | Multi / Semi paragraph | Multiverse | Alternate Universes | Cross - overs | Mature Role Play 18 + / Mun is 30 +

This blog is ONLY  made for those who are  over the age of eighteen, no minors will be permitted to take part. Mature Content inside. Dead Dove : Do Not Eat. Devouring flesh, drinking blood, other visceral gore depictions and real life horrors ( racism , colonization ). These subjects will be present on this blog; I must stress, please do not follow if you are not comfortable with these topics. I feel I must remind some, that I do not condone the actions of this character written; his actions do not reflect the writer of this blog. He is an antagonist, and villain to some --though tragic, but still a villain in his own right and a monster in most light.