We'd absolutely love to have you as part of our crazy family, please be aware that this site is intermediate to advanced and is STRICTLY 18+ due to the mature content on this board. Happy viewing friends!
10/04 New and simplified application template now up!
06/04 Glitch fixed, feel free to fill in Mini Profiles.
05/04 Working on the Mini Profile glitch, will let everyone know when it's sorted.
04/04 New skin YIPEE! Please let Bex know if you see any glitches in the skin. You have two weeks from now to sort out your character's mini profiles, my apologies for the change in avatar size! Hope you enjoy the more up to date look of AMoC!!
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❝Someone To Hear Your Prayers, Someone Who Cares❞
When her boys asked to see her, Mathilde never denied them. She was their humble servant, a vessel in which they could pour themselves into, in order to seek clarity, peace or even violence. Like her mother before her, she knew her destiny was not for herself, it was for the Sons and for the people of the Voodoo faith.
It was late when River called but she answered it swiftly, telling him too meet her in the little side building, where she took worship every Sunday and where her office was located. It was far enough from the main house to give her privacy and was where she’d been spending a lot of time these days, praying over Lazarus and Solomon. Helping River would be a welcome distraction from her own problems, which she knew should have been frivolous. It was not the done thing, a Voodoo Queen shouldn’t let matters of the heart distract her from the purpose at hand, and yet the twins pulled at every stray string within her mind, unravelling her with echoed laughter.
She shook their images from her mind and continued to light the candles within the room, whispering soft prayers to herself in order to let her focus remain. The brain and spirituality where all just muscles and she needed to exercise both of them more, she couldn’t allow herself to become weak.
The Son called her name and she extinguished the flame, setting down the still smouldering match and heading to the main room in order to greet him. Long chestnut hair hung well passed her breasts, while the white lace dress flowed freely behind her. She wore no make up, her feet bare and the material on the dress was thin and see through in parts. It was easier to talk to God this way, in nearly completely naturalness. “River, Cher, welcome.” She purred in a thick Louisiana drawl, wandering over to him and gently clasping her hands on either side of his face, leaning forwards to kiss the biker’s forehead.
“Come, let’s go out back so we can talk, I ‘sume it’s somethin’ important if you called me this late.” She gave him a reassuring smile and took his hand, leading him towards her private office area.
She offered him one of the sofas, like many things in the main house it was antique French styling, made slightly more homely with a few throw blankets. Mathilde did not sit immediately, instead poured them both a stiff drink and lit herself a cigarette. “Ok Suga’, I am all ears what can I help you with?” The woman asked, handing him one of the glasses and setting herself down on the opposing couch.
❝Someone To Hear Your Prayers, Someone Who Cares❞
Mathilde frowned when the blonde Son informed her that the men he and her brother-in-law had roughed up for the club, had taken out their vengeance on Leo. That was a precedence the Voodoo Queen was not going to allow have set. Once you were in the fold of the MC and by proxy, the Voodoo faith, you were protected. There was a level of respect the Louisiana people usually bestowed upon those aligned with the charter. She was not naive to the fact, that was a widely touted value of all MC’s but she’d seen that fall by the way side when push came to shove. In SAMROU it was different, their faith was a thicker glue, and harming someone who mattered to both River and Emile, that could not go unpunished. To let such a grievance slide would be a slight against her club and against her father’s name.
She did not interrupt with her slow rising ire, her emotions were not the ones needing to be voiced, it was River who was obviously aggrieved. Did he have feelings for the Hangaround? Her womanly intuition said yes, but that could easily have been misconstrued with strong platonic emotions.
Calmly she sipped at her beverage, her manicured brows the only sign in reaction to his tale.
“She’s not a club member I know... and ... I know I can’t ask to do this on behalf of the MC ...I know they have dealings ... I ... I just fucking want to rip their heads off”
River’s rage manifested, as any other man’s would and she watched it coil up his throat and spill out of his mouth, like a snake. He was beseeching her for answers, a way to reconcile his personal emotions with that of his allegiance to the club, a club that was his family. Many times she had seen the same internal war wage itself upon the SAMROU Sons, and many times she had ripped it out of them. They were a different breed after all, set apart from the rest of their brethren within the Sons MC, Mathilde had never curtailed their baser desires, never stopped them from being the perfect savages. She did not speak for a moment, instead drained the liquor in her glass and set it down on the table between them. “You are hurt by her pain are you not? And you are a part of the club. Your blood is that of your fellow brothers, is it not? There fo’ any pain done to you and done to the people you love, is a strike against the club……that I cannot let go unpunished. We are to be respected.” Mathilde informed with a terrifying coldness.
Slowly she rose, fingers at the buttons on her loose gown. “Don’t be afraid fo’ what comes next, Suga’.” She assured, peeling off the gossamer and letting the dress fall into a puddle at her bare feet. “Come.” Mathilde whispered holding out her hand for him.
Now naked she led them over to the corner of her room, “on the floor.” Mathilde instructed, grabbing two candles, an ornate wooden box and turning the rest of the lights off. The Voodoo Queen came to sit on the floor, once again opposite the Son. She breathed deeply, trying to empty herself. She did not need any guidance from the Loas tonight, the she had already decided on what course River should take. She lit the candles and then from out of the box she pulled an antique looking blade, holding it up to the Son, she took his hand. “She is of your heart, you ache to replace her pain with your own, the thought of her anguish continues to stab away at your mind.” She explained, bringing the blade to her naked torso and slowly dragging it across her dark skin. The pain was sharp but slight, nothing compared to the man’s before her.
Once the shallow incision was made, she wiped the cool metal against it, covering the knife in her blood. “If she is of your heart, than you must cut out theirs, an eye for an eye. They damaged yours so we will burn theirs.” She hissed, handing him over the weapon.
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I also have an unhealthy obsession with Dungeons and Dragons, Critical Role, Macaroni and cheese, collectables and candy mints which are super tasty and delicious and Bex is just jealous (I Bex, hate how many mints he brings home after we visit a restaurant and he ALWAYS leaves them scattered on our desk).
I'm still writing things here because Bex didn't give me a lot of reference on what's meant to go here. Now I'm gonna list some of my favourite shows and movies. Spider-Man: Homecoming, Kingsman, Guardians of the Galaxy, The Losers, King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, Batman Beyond, The Office, Brooklyn 99, Daredevil, Punisher, pretty much any Godzilla movie, giant monster movies in general.
I read a lot of books, my favourite book series is The Dresden Files. My favourite superhero is Moon Knight. Bex have I written enough yet? Can I stop now? (Yes you can stop now, you wanker)
I like doggos and dramatic plots, fuck realism let's do some Young and the Restless shit with our plots, lets go balls to the walls, lets (in the words of Olivia Newton-John) get physical. Let's cry and rage and swear out our plots!! On the flipside happy to do chill threads too. People say I'm indecisive I have no idea what they're talking about.