The Napoleon

theestaterpg: In a world with primarly Dominant and submissive...

Tue, 05 Feb 2013 01:23:12 +0000

In a world with primarly Dominant and submissive relationships, everyone needs a place to escape. The Estate was set up by a rich couple to serve as a retreat for D/s couples. Some stay for a weekend, and others stay at the estate permanently, finding the place more like a home. Herriot House is an old stately home with a small surrounding village, less than an hour away from the coast. The estate is popular among wealthy male couples looking for a place to escape. The estate and its surrounding buildings were converted by the current owner to create a haven for Dominants to bring their submissives and relax and enjoy life. As well as the massive house at the centre of the village, many of the old buildings have been converted for the guests pleasures, including the ever popular club and the neighbouring sauna house.
At The Estate guests come first, Dominants may do as they please, treat the house as their own paradise. Both Couples and singles frequent The Estate, along with plenty employees, trained in pleasure.

The Estate is a Male D/s roleplay group. Created by OC’s but any fandom characters within reason are allowed, as well as all pairings and kinks. Applicants may either apply as a Dominant, a submissive, or one of the pre-made accounts, and are encouraged to let the mods know their ideal pairings + kinks.

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The Resistance Base

Sun, 14 Oct 2012 14:17:33 +0100

Only The Pure Survive || Jim+Sebastian

Sun, 14 Oct 2012 14:12:54 +0100

asksebastianmoran:

Sebastian isn’t surprised that Jim remembers the knives in his boots, the amount the man had watched him fight was too many after all. He doesn’t kneel, he stands in his spot, eyes on Jim.

“I am not going to kneel down.” he says, taking a step forward, raising his hands and not even looking to the gun in Jim’s hand. He wasn’t scared of a bullet, and if it was anyone that was going to shoot him dead it would be Jim Moriarty. “What are you really going to gain from this?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in question.

Jim couldn’t think straight. He trembled as Sebastian stepped forwards, cursing himself inwardly. The man was a trained killer, Jim right now was just a fool waving a weapon. But both of them knew a fool was more likely to squeeze the trigger than someone acting rationally.

“On your fucking knees Moran!” He all but screams, pressing the gun further up into his chin, his eyes full of darkness. He needed this leverage. And Sebastian knew he was here, he couldn’t just let him walk away.

Photo

Wed, 10 Oct 2012 18:52:12 +0100

Supplies || Jim+John

Wed, 10 Oct 2012 13:53:17 +0100

nightpatrollerjohn:

Former doctor John Hamish Watson pulled his arms around himself, rubbing lightly. It was a particularly brisk night, the air was crisp and cool around him. Leaves crunched lightly beneath his boot, they were just beginning to fa— hit the ground. It had been years, but that word still made him cringe. Swallowing hard, his blue orbs swept the area. It wasn’t the most active of nights, but for that John was glad. He was bloody knackered, he nearly always was these days. Long days and late nights had lead to deep purple undereye circles that framed the man’s now haggard face. The lines that had been present before were deeper, and instead of laugh lines, he now had frown lines. So was his life.

His keen ears picked up on rustling in the shadows from around the corner. He rounded it, and kept his eyes peeled. Who could possibly be out? Most people weren’t idiots, they didn’t want to be caught out after curfew. “Okay, listen. Whoever you are, just come out.” John said, resigned. “I’m not going to hurt you, I’m not like the ones who decide to beat random civilians. I’ll just send you back home, no harm, no foul. Just come out. I’m tired, you’re tired, let’s not play games, hm?” His doctor voice now had a new purpose, and it came out smooth and calming.

That voice would have worked, if the people were others. If it wasn’t Jim Moriarty and John Watson. Because he immediately tensed, he knew who the voice belonged to, and he had a feeling if he did step out, Watson wouldn’t hesitate to call the Corps, or to gun him down in self defense. But he was right. Jim was tired and hungry. But he was also armed. He knew questions would be raised if he appeared with the Corps Issue stungun, so he took hold of one of his knives, readying himself to go down with a fight.

“Get out of here,” He growls from the shadows, not making a move just yet. Part of him hoped John would just keep walking, just move along and let Jim be. After all, he might not recognise his gruff voice. He might just be too tired to arrest anyone tonight. “Just keep walking, and you won’t get hurt.”

Only The Pure Survive || Jim+Sebastian

Wed, 10 Oct 2012 13:47:51 +0100

asksebastianmoran:

Sebastian slowly steps back, not even flinching at the gun pressed under his chin. He raises an eyebrow at the question, he tries to read Jim but all he can see is that desperation and it’s overshadowing anything Moran might’ve been able to read off of the criminal.

He glances up to the ceiling, pressing his head against the wall some more. “Two guns, one stun gun and a knife.” he counts, and perhaps he didn’t mention the knives in his boots, but that wasn’t important.

Jim immediately starts taking the weapons off him, everything going in his pockets, guns down his trousers, knife up his sleeve. He keeps his revolver pressed against Sebastian’s chin, the dark look in his eyes showing he means business. After all, like the man said, it’s all about survival. He didn’t want to kill Sebastian, but if he was going to be an enemy, Jim was going to win.

He pauses, looking him over. He was so tired he almost missed. But he knew his former employees old tricks, he knew how he took enemies out. He reached down and pulled both knives out of his boots, sticking them in his own, staring back up at him. He recalled those nights watching him work, it was a beautiful dance watching men drop when Sebastian played for him. He doubted if he would ever see him crouch and strike like that again.

“Hands above your head, on your knees,” He orders, his voice cold and determined. He could use Sebastian, no matter what his mindset was. He could be a bargaining chip, because no matter where the man was, he was dangerous.

Go wish Sebastian Happy Birthday

Tue, 09 Oct 2012 23:01:44 +0100

Go wish Sebastian Happy Birthday

x

Tue, 09 Oct 2012 18:11:53 +0100

x

Only The Pure Survive || Jim+Sebastian

Tue, 09 Oct 2012 17:54:25 +0100

asksebastianmoran:

Sebastian eyes Jim, it had been months now and he’d seen him around the raids before, not as close and not such a close call as this obviously had been for his former boss but he’d seen him and ignored it, letting Jim get out. The fingers on his scar, cold fingers, rough fingers and not as well kept as he’s used to those fingernails being.

“I have a job, work to do, Jim. I need to survive this hell hole and you, you need to get out and keep yourself away from my men.” he says, eyeing Jim still. “I can work better from the otherside, either way.” he adds.

Jim is cold to the bone, starving, tired. But hes a fighter, and he wont give up. But he’s running out of options, and he can’t build up a resistance if they have a sniffer dog like Sebastian on their team, someone who’s just going to come and cart away everyone. A job. Sebastian didn’t have a job. He had a crime against humanity to commit. All the murders they did, all the double-crossing back in the day, it seemed like tiny little crimes in Jim’s mind compared to this.

He steps back, as if he is about to grab his stuff and run, before his hands on the revolver, bringing it up to Sebastian and pressing it under his chin, walking forward until the former soldier is pressed against the wall. “You’re not going anywhere Sebastian Moran,” He hisses under his breath. He wouldn’t waste his only bullet on anyone but himself, but he was known for being reckless, Sebastian didn’t know he wouldn’t shoot. Especially in such desperate times, with such a wild look in his eyes. “What weapons do you have on you?”

livewithoutfearrpg: Mycroft Holmes - Leader of The Government -...

Tue, 09 Oct 2012 11:21:52 +0100

livewithoutfearrpg:

Mycroft Holmes - Leader of The Government - FC: Mark Gatiss [Up to player]

Open / Taken / Reserved

When Mycroft saw the opportunity to take Britain into a new age, he grasped it with both hands. The Prime-Minister had been driven out of office, the country was in financial ruin, and he saw himself as the man to save it all, to turn his beloved country into a utopia. But power corrupts, and a utopia cannot be a paradise for everyone. Soon Britain became a controlled state, the Corps taking away those who partook in unapproved acts, and were send to the Correction Facilities that Mycroft had created. All the Leader can see is a glaze of sunshine. There is no crime, no war, no poverty. People smile at him when they see him. But even he knows, somewhere out there, people are trying to destroy his dream.

Codename: [Up to player]
Ships: [Up to Player]
Side: Government

Photo

Tue, 09 Oct 2012 11:10:38 +0100

Only The Pure Survive || Jim+Sebastian

Tue, 09 Oct 2012 11:08:56 +0100

asksebastianmoran:

“Surviving, Jim. That’s what I am doing. And keeping you from getting your arse shot.” Sebastian says, ignoring the third and second question.

He would rather not talk about the correction facilities, he didn’t have much morals but the correction facilities reminded him too much of something from the history books, something from around World War 2.

Jim knew when Sebastian was evading questions. He was a good liar, and Jim hated lies, he always tried to spare him that. But right now, he did want to know. Everything, everyone was so different. He didn’t know when he started caring, when protecting people became a priority for him. Perhaps when he saw that they couldn’t protect themselves. He didn’t understand Mycroft. It was like a cat playing with a dead mouse. A whole country full of them.

He looked up at his face, studying every detail. He had started to think he would never see his face again. Did he have fewer lines now? He was sure Sebastian wouldn’t take very kindly to him asking if he had some work done. But, didn’t everybody now? The Gov Scientists seemed fixated on such things. His scar was still there, it seemed fainter, though he wondered if that was just a trick of the light. He closes his eyes, reaching up to run his dirty fingertips over the long scar, sighing quietly. “You can’t go back up there,” He murmurs. “You can’t leave me for them.”

Supplies || Jim+John

Mon, 08 Oct 2012 23:37:43 +0100

Jim knew it was dangerous. But his food supplies were low, and his morale was even lower. He couldn’t hide knowing he was going to end up starving, when he knew he could do something about it. Apart from a run in with a certain Corruption Guard that he couldn’t talk about, he had managed to stay clear from the Corps men, and he intended to keep it that way.

He waited until curfew was over, checking his wind up radio to see if any raids had gone off near Mayfair, deciding the coast would be clear. He put on the uniform coat he had stolen, emerging from his station hideaway as quietly as he could. He stuck to the shadows, glad that the street was free from patrollers. It was only a few streets to the store, if he made it there in time they would be delivering goods, and he could steal things off the lorries without anybody seeing him.

Only The Pure Survive || Jim+Sebastian

Mon, 08 Oct 2012 22:51:18 +0100

asksebastianmoran:

Sebastian rests one hand on Jim’s lower back, firmly and keeping him close, not that he thought Jim would move away.

“You know I’ll survive, you really think I’d just let them re-arrange my brain?” he asks, amused laughter escaping him for a moment.

Jim takes his other hand, running his fingers over the chip imbedded in his palm. He knew if he stayed here too long, someone would pick up his signal being irregular, and the Corps would descend to find out what’s going on.

“Why are you working for them then?” He asks, puzzled. “Is this what you do, take people? What do you do to them after that?”

Only The Pure Survive || Jim+Sebastian

Mon, 08 Oct 2012 22:45:21 +0100

asksebastianmoran:

Sebastian should leave, he’s already ticking behind, not that they have any right to come and search for him on such short notice. But still he reaches out, grabbing Jim’s hand and letting him close the distance, leaning in the last few inches for a firm but brief kiss.

“Jim, you have to go.” he says.

That kiss took Jim’s breath away. He clutched onto his uniform, balling the neat grey fabric in his hands, staring up at him with fierce eyes. He knew Sebastian was right, he knew he should flee. But he would come back here, now it had been raided, it would be months before the Corps checked here again.

“I can’t,” He says, swallowing, shaking his head at Sebastian. “I thought you were dead. Or worse.”

Only The Pure Survive || Jim+Sebastian

Mon, 08 Oct 2012 22:40:04 +0100

asksebastianmoran:

Sebastian furrows his eyebrows at that, hearing that whisper even though he’s not very close to Jim now. He turns back around, eyeing the broken man in the corner.

“They haven’t done anything, Jimmy.” Sebastian says then, nodding towards the gun, with his usual smirk. “Now get the gun and get out of here.” he repeats.

That did it. That smirk, no Cleansed person smiled like that, that smirk that said they had a little secret. Jim couldn’t get out of there now. Once upon a time, yes that had been violence hungry criminals, but they had adored each other, in a sense. And Jim couldn’t go anywhere.

“Seb…” He croaked, holding out his hand, ignoring the gun, taking slow steps towards the man, closing their distance.

Only The Pure Survive || Jim+Sebastian

Mon, 08 Oct 2012 22:34:01 +0100

asksebastianmoran:

Sebastian doesn’t unload the gun as he would to any other patient, well Jim wouldn’t be a patient, he thought as he eyed the gun for one more moment and tossed it onto the bed.

“Get out of here.” he says, stepping back and turning around to leave. He couldn’t be too delayed after all, they would ask questions.

“Sebastian what have they done to you,” Jim whispers, his voice hoarse from using it so little, mixed with the horror of seeing him turned into a mindless product of the government.

He wondered what the Correctional Facility must be like to break a mind like Sebastians. But was he truly broken? He hadn’t grabbed Jim, hadn’t carted him away like they were clearly doing to everyone else who lived here. All those poor people.

Only The Pure Survive || Jim+Sebastian

Mon, 08 Oct 2012 22:29:40 +0100

asksebastianmoran:

In a swift step, he moves to the side to step inbetween the revolver and Jim. He let’s his gaze fall on the man, on Jim Moriarty, his former boss and… and the highest on his priority list. Not quite in the government’s sense, but still highest.

“Let’s avoid that.” he says, reaching over and picking up the revolver from the makeshift bed, eyeing it. At least Jim had kept his advice.

Jim flinched at the sound of his former snipers voice. It wasn’t that he was really terrified of him, he was just a shadow of the man he used to be. He was cold, hungry and tired, this wasn’t the life he was used to, but it was the only life he would live, considering the options.

He rose to his feet slowly when Sebastian picked up the gun, though he didn’t raise his hands in submission. Dressed in jeans and an older thick jumper which might be familiar to the Corps man, he backed himself into the corner a little more, his gaze flickering over to the door, the exit.

Only The Pure Survive || Jim+Sebastian

Mon, 08 Oct 2012 22:24:16 +0100

asksebastianmoran:

Sebastian enters the room, calm steps as the light from outside lights the room up somewhat. He steps further into the room, walking slowly and he glances around, the noise of his boots minimal but quite loud in contrast to the silence of the abandoned station. He clears his throat, he knows there’s someone here, of course he does he isn’t an idiot.

“Clear!” he yells to the rest upstairs, knowing they will simply leave with the others and let him come behind if he says it’s all clear.

Jim looks in absolute terror as the door is opened, shrinking himself further into the corner. But once the Corps man stepped further in the room and he dared himself a glance up, he recognised him instantly. His hair seemed a darker blonde, softer than before he wondered. His face was a mask of conform, everything about him was, from his perfectly ironed uniform, to his polished boots.

He stole a glance to the makeshift bed, to where his revolver sat. He slowly attempted to inch himself towards it when Sebastian turned around to yell, silent as possible, moving to grab his only way out of this.

Only The Pure Survive || Jim+Sebastian

Mon, 08 Oct 2012 22:16:59 +0100

asksebastianmoran:

It hadn’t been a walk on roses to work his way in, of course his strings and connections and his over all reputation for survival did indeed get him thrown into one of those correctional facilities. He had easily worked through it, easily gained a mask and his own rank into the workings of the government. It had been surprisingly easy, in fact. Raids here and there, gathering up patients and wrong doers was quite every day now. Jim Moriarty on the highest priority list, not that that list was quite the same in his head. Highest priority to pretend not to see the man perhaps.

He kicks in the door to the underground station, stepping inside, gun in hand as he glances around the station. Dark and silent, except for the clattering of shoes, obviously hiding people. The sound of his combat boots is softer than usual, brown leather and his uniform is neatly paid attention to in every detail as he always had to do before he left. There was no room for sloppy coys in his mask. He gestures for the men to get the obvious hidden room as he heads to check for the more smartly hidden places, kicking another door open with his food, perhaps not as dramatically as the entrance but still.

Jim leapt to his feet at the sound of the door slamming open upstairs, immediately going to snuff out the candle. The people down here with him were good people, some recruited, some just seeking sanctuary, but all wanting to resist the Corps, the Facility, the madness.

He scurried himself into the corner, making himself as small and as inconspicuous as possible, his black eyes watching the room, fixed on the door the furthest down the tunnels where he his alone. All those people. They would be bagged and dragged off to be corrected. And Jim was next. He didn’t want to be, he didn’t want to be next.