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-Mona Marie-


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Born: November 18, 2018 Forum Topics Started: 0
Race: Witch Forum Posts / Replies: 0
Affiliation: No Affiliation Mail Replies Sent: 257
Home City: New Orleans Mail Sent: 24
In Union With: Not in Union Last Login:
Currently Online:
05/15/19 at 4:06 pm
Current Mood: Mischievous 

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Black Lord


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Last five threads posted in:
AJaye Michaels 04/22/19 Miss Mona, Miss Mona ....yes ma'am I will definitely follow your advice. That was not fun at all.
Roman Godfrey 04/16/19 The faint allure of jasmine washes over his senses as the petite woman approaches him. Something about her presence enthralls every ounce of his attention. Glancing down, he notices ruby nails tapping a snug corset. He can't help the smug smirk that graces his features.
"You think I'm delectable? Sweetheart, have you seen yourself? It's enough to make a man's mouth water."
Lightly grasping her dainty hand in his own, Roman gingerly brushes his lips against her knuckles. Glancing up at her, he admired how sinfully scrumptious her pout was.
"It is an absolute pleasure to meet you, Mona. I'm Roman. I'm sure it'll be a pleasure later as well."
Thorne 03/14/19 Perhaps her mother was right, perhaps she couldn't kill her from a simple feeding, but the witchling would rather not take that chance, instead reaching for the extended hand like it happened to be her only lifeline. Standing, her legs shook and pain shot up her spine and across her nerve endings, making her jaw clench and a grunt escape her.

"I... I think that would be... preferable than consuming you entirely..." Heavily Mara leaned against Mona, letting the older woman lead her to where she needed to be, wherever this.... him was.
Thorne 03/14/19 There was a dull ache within pale pink gums and the younger of the pair rumbles a soft growl that sounded more of a pained groan and she shifts away, gripping the sides of what was, effectively, an open coffin, arms shaking and hold white-knuckle tight as she forced herself up.

"I... can't... not you, Mother... I'll not kill you to... sate my hunger.." Ever so stubborn, first borne of Mona.
Thorne 03/14/19 Each touch the woman gifted her with sent shocks of sensation skittering along nerve endings, such things overwhelming the once Dreamer and her body would arch, almost as if trying to move away from such things before she slumps over and the sheet that had kept her modestly covered within her place of rest drifted down, pooled at her hips and gave just the slightest hint of creamy expanse, pallid, yet still creamy.

Before she could gather her wits about her, something else made known and another groan, soft, raspy, escapes creaking vocals and her entire body shudders.

"I.. hunger."
Thorne 03/13/19 Time seemed to have flown differently in the Nothingness the witchling had succumbed to, had been forced into when she had lain in her bed, years ago, and had been cruely ripped from this plane of existance by... by... Who was it that had ended her life? And why?

Broken from confused musings, the sound of something click, click, clicking in the dark across pavement, slightly muffled by grassy terrain thereafter had the awakening female perking up, well as best as she could perk up given the lethargic feeling that bid her struggle to chase from her mind's eye, eyes fluttering beneath closed lids before blinking open, pupils wide within the darkness that cloaked her.

Where was she? Or, better yet, when was she? Memories were slow to rouse from the re-awakened and she felt a retardation to her senses, sluggish, hampered, thumb of left hand giving a sudden twitch as sensation began to trickle into her bit by bit, her very nerve endings firing overload and causing a soft groan to rumble from depths of disused, dry vocals. Beneath her she could feel a silky softness that didn't feel quite like fabric, a cushioned embrace that tickled at bare body and caused the synapses in her brain to fire faster.

Distraction came in the distorted form of a woman leaning over her and drawing her into embrace, of the warmth of familial kiss pressing to brow and the witchling, was she a witchling?, yes, witchling, uttered a soft rasp of sound.

"M-Mother..." Ah, yes, Mona.
Actives (19) Fresh Blood (1) View All The Fallen (1) Graveyard
Harlowe mac Lir, London, LillyEmperium, Victor Lockheed, King Blitzkrieg, Smith, Elysia, Maeve, Flahme, Ronan Boru, Cristina Scabbia, Dexter Gein, Katrina , Kristoffer Forsetti, Greer Luin, Beau Theroux, _author, Naberius Reum, Mallory Quarters  London  Allissia 
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