The Prelude

Posts : 10 Soul Currency : 90 Join date : 2012-04-10

The footsteps of the Russian echoed throughout the long and wide corridor of Castle Blanks. The Russian whom had recently returned from his mission was currently on the West wing of the castle. Many would say the mission was a success for all those concerned. And with a minimal amount of casualties to go along with it too. The comrades that the Bount had lost on this day was nothing more than canon fodder in his eyes. Equally, they were of the lower echelon as far as the Brood was concerned. The Russian was the least bit phased by these loses. The spiritual vampire had successful secured Aurora. And now the girl will be used as per the reasons behind her creation. She was a lost gem to the Russian, having been captured by the Shinigami so long ago. But they made a mistake in not destroying her. Or could it be that they had failed to realize her potential? Whatever the case, the Russian was truly grateful to the Shinigami. Too bad it was impossible to settle things in a more amicable fashion. The Russian walked as casual as ever, his pale white skin almost glowing. He was no human, and in the world of the living, any human around would deem him to be a vampire.

The handsome devil was currently being followed by two attendants. These two were Shinenju, born in the valley from an accumulation of Blanks. These attendants were of the opposite sex to each other. A male and a female, personal attendants to the Russian. The Bounto was currently heading towards the meeting area. His purpose and presence there was to have a meeting with 'The World' as their renowned leader is often referred to. The Russian has long jet black spiky shoulder length hair, with blond streaks running through it in small portions, taking up a few noticeable strands of hair. The Bount also has piercing blue eyes that are most alluring, hypnotic and equally intimidating too. The Russian's gaze is known for unnerving the sturdiest of men and women alike. The Russian has a pair of two inches long black earrings in the shape of a cross, these of course being worn in his ear, hanging from his earlobe. The Bount leads by example as far as attire is concerned, sticking to the formal dress code of the Harbingers. The Russian wears a modified Chinese Mao suit, a black one of course like every other Bount. The Bount's Mao suit was modified to resemble that of a sleeveless vest, with the typical white Mao suit frog buttons, at least seven buttons going down the vest in total.

The Russian wears a pair of black trousers, with a black belt with a raven on the belt's buckle. The Bount also sports a pair of black men boots, with the legs of his trousers covering a portion of the boots. The Bount's trousers appear a lot like combat trousers with pockets around the thigh areas and in the most typical of areas, just below the hips. Taking it one step further, the Bount also wears a long black overcoat, one that has a high collar with white tassels on them. A pair of black gloves on both hands no doubt. There is also a militarized white chord that is worn around his left shoulder. A set of military like stars is worn on each of his shoulders.

There are times when the Bount will be seen wearing a military fashioned officer's hat, a black one of course with a silver bad on it. And this was one of those times, since he is sporting one of these hats. The Bount also stands at six foot fives inches tall, and is of a muscular tone, a man of great power in mind, body and soul. The footsteps of the Bounto would take him to the meeting area. The large black and white doors opening up before him. The Bount with piercing blue eyes smiled a little as he stepped inside. His attendants had stopped following, after the Bounto had reached within twenty meters of the meeting hall. One may deem this to be a meeting hall, but it was the place they often went to in order to consult with their leader. The floor beneath The Russian's feet was most unusual. Unlike the white tiles of Las Noches and the boring oak wooden floors of the Seireitei. The very floor beneath the Bount's feet told stories. There were drawings depicting past battles, telling tales. This so called meeting room also acted as the throne room. The spacious throne room remained as magnificent as ever. The ambience of light just right as usual. Twenty paces in front of the Bount were the black steps leading up the platform in which the leader sat upon his throne. This golden throne, with red and black velvet material was vacant for the moment.

There were carvings of the valkyrie on the throne. And all around the room, there was depictions of the the norse mythology. A multitude of different components was on display. The Bounto remained silent for the moment, now awaiting 'The World' to make his appearance. Not only that, but the Bount was also expecting a few other comrades to make an appearance too. There was much to be discussed it would seem.

Posts : 7 Soul Currency : 61 Join date : 2013-09-13

At first the Russian Entry seemed to have disturbed the peace. His soulless body the only presence in the room. Only the Blonde Beauties referred often to as Bombshells would be his only accomplish. The breed of pure white skin, stunning blue eyes and a healthy color of blonde for hair. It was always a fascinating place to be, the art work was truly magnificent. The drawings had more life than the Bounto themselves. It was not only a rich vibrant history but also the memoirs of the Bounto. There were times when they were revered has Kingly beings. Those who lived in the ghastly Castles, feeding upon the pure blood of untainted beings. Yes. A giggle would disturb the Russian semi-trance. The mass banquet table, currently devoid of all food save for a bottle of wine and some assorted fruits, was taken by Another Bounto and his servant. The German as per usual was present yet not. He sat upon a chair of ancient oak.

He had taken off his smart suit attire. The occasion had called for the stripes of the Brood. Combat boots with the black trousers covering half of it. The Very east Asian shirt replacing the dress shirt and black waist coat. The long sleeves were neatly folded up above his elbows. His usual messy blonde hair was streaked backwards neatly and spiked backwards, revealing his forehead and ears. The German wasn't the type to follow a uniform especially in attire but occasions called for such. Upon the table was a Vulcan Standard hat, creased and crisp like a Nazi Officer's. His overcoat of dark black hanging on the chair.

The giggle came from a female attending the German. Whether she was another bounto was unclear, her spiritual presence at a bare minimum. She stood with her back to the table and her attention gathered upon feeding the unattentive German, grapes. The man was handsome as the next, taking a different style from the Russian. While the Russian was the Cold City boy, the German was the Smooth Eccentric. However the contrast between their own styles could not be more ironic and at the same time cliche. The Russian you see, like the German and most Men, loved women. Living in the Euphoria of beautiful women. but, if one factor set them apart was that the Russian was not mean to the current women he made love to. The German however, had a sadistic nature when it came to women. Putting them on a throne of gold but the next moment dropping them lower than the remains of a bacteria. No one knew why he was like such. He seemed to lose interest quickly.

"Take your leave." He smiled with a wink. She giggled once more and began to leave. Her apparel and sexual appeal was unimportant, at least to the German. As desirable as her red hair and smoother skin was, he had other things on his mind. For a change he seemed to be in a foul or let down mood. A dragon of Ash climbed ontop of his Coat, crawling towards his shoulder. It was no small or big dragon. Perhaps the size of large puppy dog. The red eyes glared at the departing women. Upon close inspection the Dining table had another inhabitant, lying right in front of the German was the Second Dragon. A thin layer of Ash around the German.

"Logia Brandt, I've been undercover for so long I've almost forgotten my name Comrade. Months and Months on end, having to stand the stench of ugly men and women really does send an itch up the back of your hand." His gazed was looking at his pet dragon upon the table. For a moment he waited then began to pour 2 glasses of Fine wine. He motioned for the Russian to sit in front of him. The Right of the thrown with himself on the left. The one cup would be for the Russian the other for himself. "When was the last time you got cut?"

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