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 The Coffin House is a sprawling mansion in Goochland county, along the James River outside of Richmond, Virginia. Originally built in rural Massachusetts by Henry James Coffin, a Bostonian millionaire, the mansion was transplanted stone by stone to its present location, where it was merged with an existing Gothic Revival mansion. The Coffin House is now almost as large as a city block, and includes a chapel, theatre, ballroom, library, gallery, and rooms almost too numerous to count. On the edge of the sixty-acre estate is the New Salem School, an elite private high school.  Marcus Agrippa Young is the current owner of the estate and the patron of the New Salem School. Like Henry Coffin before him, Young is building his legacy in Virginia with material transplanted from other places. In this case, a group of teenagers whom he is fostering as a single parent and enrolling at New Salem. That’s where you come in. Every teenager has problems, but yours are a little...extreme. And your parents, well--maybe they’re dead, maybe you never knew them, maybe they just didn’t know what to do with you. Whatever your story, what you have in common is that you accepted Marcus Young’s offer to live in his mansion and attend his school. You don’t know how you came to his attention, but when you were at a low point in your young life, he visited you to introduce himself and offer an alternative to another foster home, to juvy, or perhaps just a family that was ready to give you up. You still don’t know much about your new foster parent. He seems warm and indulgent, but lonesome...when he’s around. In the few months that you’ve spent living in his house, you haven’t seen much of him. He appears to have more money than God. “I’m not God,” he once said to you, “but He told my grandfather to invest in shipping containers.” In his frequent absence, you are largely left to your own devices. For company, you have your fellow “wards.” (Who does he think he is? Batman?) Not to mention the housestaff and people from school. Marcus receives occasional visitors, who know the housekeepers and claim to be his cousins. They come from all over the world, and like him, they all seem to be unmarried and childless. Some just want to use the pool.  The New Salem School is an elite (that is, expensive) private high school. Established on the grounds of the Coffin estate in the 1980s, it quickly established a reputation for providing a traditional, academically rigorous curriculum and excellent college preparation, with no religious component whatsoever. Some 800 students attend the school, and its reputation and acceptance policies make it significantly more diverse than the surrounding suburb, which is about 75% white, 15% black, and 100% scared to park in downtown Richmond. Students wear an old-school uniform, with blazers and neckties, that incorporates the school colours, black and maroon. The New Salem Spiders have many opportunities to pursue music, sports, club activities, and each other, despite the watchful eye of principal Memphis Lee--another ostensible cousin of Mr. Young. Welcome to the Coffin House. This is a Monsterhearts game where the PCs are not only troubled teenagers, not only monsters, but thrown together in a palatial Gothic mansion with little or no parental supervision. However, I don’t expect this “twist” to be vitally important, nor the NPCs or the setting. I want this game to be about the PCs’ personalities, first and foremost, and to be flexible depending on the Skins. (A Chosen needs action, a Mortal needs a messy relationship, and so on.) But this is Monsterhearts and that means it’s about sexuality, maturity, and finding your own way and each other.  Ground rules! 1. Monsterhearts is, in its own words, “unabashed about its subject matter: it’s a teen sex horror story. It revels in codependency and untenable promises.” This game is about sexuality and immaturity, and deals with difficult subject matter such as alienation, bullying, bigotry, and unhealthy relationships. There’s a fine line between “provocative” and “upsetting” and if anything in the game upsets you, please let me know, either in the OOC thread or by PM. Respecting boundaries is more important than a game. I encourage everyone to check out Safe Hearts (PDF), a guide to these issues in the game. 2. Skins: The core skins, the Hollow, and most of the Second Skins are available. (The Angel, Serpentine, and Heir probably won’t work since you’re all in foster care, and the Neighbor isn’t screwed up enough to be here. If you really want to use one of them or a third-party Skin, well, talk me into it.) I won’t accept more than one of each playbook. 3. Post your character sheet, background, and a picture! I encourage photographs, whether you want to use a stock image or “cast” a celebrity as your character. After PCs are chosen, we will do Backstory and I will ask you for input on NPCs and the like. Characters (except the Mortal) need a supernatural origin. 4. Describe a "tell" that gives you away as abnormal. A Vampire might have visible fangs or no reflection, a Chosen could have a tattoo, a Witch might have a strange mark or blazing eyes when they're angry. It could be an effect that shows itself when you lose your composure, or a physical mark that is hidden most of the time. (The Mortal is an exception to this one, if you choose.) 5. To start, answer these two questions. First, why did you accept Marcus’ offer? Second, tell me about an interesting room/place you discovered in the mansion. 6. Post! I want to run an active game, so be prepared to post at least daily. Don’t get stressed if others are posting more frequently or elaborately, just post! The game will slow down during my honeymoon in the first week of March. Besides that, post! You all moved into the Coffin House some time between June and October, and you just finished the first semester of your freshman year at New Salem. You've been in homeroom together this semester, and the game will start after your first Christmas break. (You also live in the same house, but it's big enough to be like staying in the same hotel.) You’ve laid claim to a room and enough space for all your stuff (such as a Witch’s Sanctuary). You haven't discovered that the other PCs are monsters yet, except where backstory says so. Halloween Jack fucked around with this message at 19:44 on Dec 31, 2014 |
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Dec 31, 2014 18:00
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 Toby Hawke, Mortal Toby's Tumblr profile posted:13 / VA / white. Faepagan demiboy; he/him or ze/zhim pronouns please Mom doesn't understand me. How could she when she spends all her time flying around the world on Mr. Young's errands? She even missed my birthday this year. I tried to be the perfect daughter for her, but I couldn't. When I figured out I was trans, I tried to be the perfect son instead. But nothing's easy, is it? I tried to tell Mom about what I felt, that I was a boy sometimes and something in between other times. But she didn't get it. She let me buy a binder — I don't need it all the time, but it helps — but she said she won't help me get the hormones or surgery until I figure out what I want to be. Why can't she understand I know who I am? Mr. Young brought a bunch of other kids to stay in the mansion, so at least I'm not all by myself all the time. It's nice to have people to talk to. Maybe one of them will understand what I'm going through? I hope so.
Toby didn't exactly accept Mr. Young's offer the way the other kids did; his mom moved him into the mansion when she let the lease on her apartment expire. In one of the stairwells, the stairs lead up above the top floor to a door that's been painted over. It took a lot of force and made a noise he was afraid someone would hear, but Toby got the door open. Inside was a tower room, the windowsills and floor covered with dust. There were scratches on the floor where furniture had been. Symbols were painted on the walls; most of them were nonsense, combinations of different alchemical and zodiacal signs, but some of them reminded him of signs he'd seen in his wicca books. Toby cleaned the room up and now uses it once a month for a ritual where he lights a purifying candle and lets it burn down to cleanse his spirit. inklesspen fucked around with this message at 23:34 on Jan 8, 2015 |
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Dec 31, 2014 19:58
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Thinking of making a Werewolf that's a little worried about his temper.
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Dec 31, 2014 20:16
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  Violet Chambers, the Infernal https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9hLcRU5wE4 I'm told my mother was some kind of addict who stumbled into the hospital and died from 'complications' during birth and that my dad was probably a junkie or dealer somewhere. That's what the people at the foster home told me anyway. Either they didn't know any better or they lied. Wouldn't surprise me, they were full of poo poo anyway. Of course they figured I'd just buy it, but I had someone telling me how things really are. Someone who knows things, especially about people. He'd tell me when they were lieing to me and when I got old enough he told me the real story. How my mom was part of a coven and one night they took a pair of goats into a hidden grove in the woods and they spilled the goats' blood, danced around a bonfire and called Him down from the stars to ask Him a favor. That favor is me and now He looks after me, always has which made foster care a little less lovely cause hey, I didn't get abandoned like all those other poor fuckers. They might call me crazy but I know the truth. I'm special. I'm here for a reason, though I'm not really sure what that reason is. That and his name are the two things he's never given me a straight answer for. I heard that when you know a demon's real name that gives you power over them, so I figure that's why. I used to call him Mr. Sparks when I was little but now I just think of him as Mr. S or the Nameless One when I wanna be all ominous and poo poo. No one ever tried to adopt me. Couple people came close, but they'd take a close look at me and change their mind. Served me just fine, I already had someone looking out for me, I didn't need two strangers trying to save me or some poo poo. I get by just fine by myself, so what if it takes a little lieing, stealing and flirting, I know how to get what I want. You got a problem with that? Didn't think so. But then Marcus Young showed up one day. I could tell something was different about him. He came for me specifically, as if he knew I was there and that I was different. The words "wholesome family" or "home" never crossed his lips but man, he sure had an offer. I thought he might be some creepy gently caress but I could tell he checked out and I figured maybe Mr. S send him to take me out of this dump. Because that's what the orphanage was compared to Young's digs. I mean holy poo poo, that place is balls to the wall fancy, how could I say no to that? There's a couple other kids here and I figure there's probably something special about them too, right? There's a small chapel in one of the wings of the mansion. It's kind of tucked away to the side and everything inside was covered up with sheets and layers of dust. First I felt kinda queasy in there, but it's out of the way and one night I swiped a bottle of wine from the kitchen and got a little messed up with Billie Patel and I had this awesome idea. So I dragged him off to the chapel and we fooled around for a while and I ended up giving him a handjob right on the little altar. That felt incredible for some reason! Now I'm thinking this place would make a great room to hang out if I clean out some of the dust and poo poo, push the couple benches to the side and such. Maybe put some posters or something over the windows though, cause when the sun goes down and hits the big stained-glass window all the little eyes of the figures on there almost look like they stare down at you. Gives me the creeps. quote:Look: Distant, Burning Eyes Atropha fucked around with this message at 06:38 on Jan 6, 2015 |
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Dec 31, 2014 20:30
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Yeah on second thought naw, probably not gonna make anything.
AlanWhats fucked around with this message at 23:51 on Dec 31, 2014 |
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Dec 31, 2014 20:36
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Gonna make a mentally ill teen with paranoia. Would Chosen be best or should I pick something else?
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Dec 31, 2014 21:26
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 You don't know poo poo. You're still living in a world where the worst thing that can happen to you is your credit card getting declined. But three years ago, I learned that there was so much I didn't know. If you can believe it, I had a family. A normal life in a sleepy Connecticut town with cartoons, friends and begging to go to the mall. But one night, I woke up in bed to loud noises. While I hid under my bed, I heard muffled chants and the screams of my parents through the carpet. I told myself I'd stay there until it was over, but then whoever they were set the place on fire. The second floor collapsed when I tried to make my way out, and before I passed out in the rubble, I saw strange human-shaped things with claws, hoods, and grey skin darting off into the woods. After some time in the hospital getting pieces of my house pulled out of me, my mom's family put me in The System. They were steamed with getting stuck with the medical bills or something. Or maybe they just didn't care. I promised myself that I'd fight whatever those things were the next time They came - because mark my words, they are. Training, weapons, research. When I turned twelve, I started sneaking out at night looking for them. Someday, I'll find them. Maybe I'll find something worse.  quote:Jackie DeSilva, the Chosen 1) Why did you accept Marcus' Offer? I think it's because he understood me. I had a string of foster homes where the constant exercise, late nights, and, on one occassion, the discovery of one of my knives, had me thrown back into the system real quick. What was I supposed to do? Tell them about the frayed edges of this reality? He didn't ask questions - and he must have known about my "previous activities." They keep records of that sort of thing, don't they? 2) An Interesting Room/Place You Discovered in the Mansion Under the ground floor, there's this foyer where a bunch of cellar rooms or whatever meet, and there's this big fountain of a woman pouring out a jug of water. The whole thing looks freshly tiled, and still works. Sometimes, I go there to think. The sound of the water helps calm me down. 3) Tell: She has quite a few scars and burns all over her body (from the incident in Connecticut) that refuse to heal. Jolinaxas fucked around with this message at 00:34 on Jan 9, 2015 |
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Dec 31, 2014 21:33
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My name is Luka. I was born with two mommies and two daddies. One of them's the same person. Or thing. The other two, the 'real' ones, sold me to them before I was even conceived. "On spec," as my creepy aunt-uncle, or OtherFatherMother, oh-eff-em, likes to remind me. This presence follows me around, literally hiding in the shadows--mine, others', or no one's--whispering into my mind. Steal this, do that, keep your eyes open, don't look away--we all used to do whatever they said--well, mostly. My biological parents did everything they were told, even putting me up for adoption. I was always more of a monkey paw, although I can never predict how OFM will react to my rebellions. Sometimes they back me up, even if I'm doing the opposite of what I thought they wanted; sometimes they hang me out to dry, even if I follow the orders to the letter, even if i thought it was the most innocuous little thing. gently caress... at least I'm choosing what I do though, using what little freedom I have. Even if before Marc adopted everyone it looked like I was gonna be aged out of the system, and become another statistic. "36% of foster youth who have aged out of the system become homeless, 56% become unemployed, [...] less than half of emancipated youth who have aged out graduate from high school, compared to 85% of all 18- to-24-year-olds; fewer than 1 in 8 graduate from a four-year college; two-thirds had not maintained employment for a year; fewer than 1 in 5 was completely self-supporting; more than a quarter of the males spent time in jail; and 4 of 10 had become parents as a result of an unplanned pregnancy." That's what my chances are if I blow this school thing, which I might, because OFM isn't as absentee a parent as Marc is. Their last task has been "steal some hearts and see if you can break the weak ones." I've been doing everything I can to not do that without breaking any rules, and trying to come up with loopholes and stuff. In both. OFM's of course are harder to cheat, because they change on a whim, but institutional rules... my God. Take the school dress code. What can and can't be worn and how to wear each and every piece of clothing is laid out in pages upon pages of rules, with a cherry on top of making it "the principal's, or their designee's, discretion" to determine what is or isn't appropriate. Since I know who the principal works for, so I only wear what's appropriate for that day. Some days it's the uniform with the skirt, some days it's the one with the pants. Today I got a size larger of the former and wore both at once. I get looks, but thankfully not interested ones. Nah, OFM's are by far the creepiest. They think it suits me, and added a task. Now if I ever find I "like someone who only wears one uniform," I have to "get them into the other." Ugh. My response to that task has been to be as unlikable as possible. If no one likes me, they'll all treat me like crap, and they won't make me like them by being nice or interested in my toxicity. Just being cagey and walking out on people has been doing well, and if they're dumb enough to follow me I get in their face, pull hair or knee junk. Nothing that'll make a mark, or get me in real trouble. Loopholes. Deniability. The problem is that no matter who it is that gets too close, that I fight off, they always have enemies, who then admire me for being a jerk to someone they thought had it coming. They appreciate me for being a violent loner because I hurt someone they don't like. The idiots inevitably decide they have to thank me or let me know. Tomorrow, it's them I have to deal with in the same way. God, how can everyone be so stupid! They're just queuing up to get hurt, and making my self-imposed task a Sisyphean one... But I won't crack. Oh no, don't feel sorry for me, or I'll make you sorry. quote:Luka Fayerweather, The Infernal The tell The Trickster has complete control over all shadows, especially mine. They like trying to distract me and others with them. The adoption Did you read those statistics? I'll try my damndest not to end up as one of them. The room Okay... I've got one friend at school. His name is Mark, he's the guy in charge of the conservatory, and secret moonshiner, I later learned. One day he caught me smoking out there, and slapped the Camel out of my mouth and stomped on it. "poo poo, Luka. You're better than that!" No one had ever stopped me like that before. I whipped off my belt and got ready to fight him, but he just pulled out a yellow horn pipe and beaded buckskin pouch instead. "It's sacred, the plant and the act, you can't half-rear end either. Not by the plants." We had a little peace pipe smoking ceremony right there, with his home grown tani, tobacco. Talked about everything. His secret Chemistry degree, and the bullshit laws about tobacco and stills and taxes that kept him from using it to help the world. My hatred of everyone I ever met starting with my mother and ending with him. I think he's the only person I respect. The only person who can grow and create and work and create beautiful things and give them away. Of course, OFM wants him. Goddammit, whenever we send our hopes and prayers riding to heaven on our tobacco smoke that rear end in a top hat just puts a giant glass over us and lets us choke on them. slydingdoor fucked around with this message at 21:48 on Dec 31, 2014 |
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Dec 31, 2014 21:44
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 Victoria Owens, Queen (C) With friends Karen Lackoff (L) and Amanda Sterling (R) I never had family. Sure, sure, I did technically have parents, somebody who spawned me and somebody who birthed me. I never knew them, all I knew was that they came from money. Lots of money. The Trust kept me in the best boarding schools, the best summer enrichment programs. My friends came from the best families, families I'd go diving the Great Barrier with, or a month at a Chateau in France. When it came time to move up to high school, Mr. Young made the most compelling pitch. The New Salem School, it's up and coming, a growing force for the best. My first week, I threatened everything. Have you seen me? Yes, yes, boys wanted me, girls wanted to be me...and wanted me. The ones I couldn't seduce I froze out. God was it wonderful. Now I'm running the Alpha girls here at New Salem. My girls, I can feel them, in my mind. It was strange at first, but I've started getting used to it. I know exactly when Karen's freaked about an exam or Amanda's getting hot and heavy...here I am, queen of my own little hive! quote:Name: Victoria Owens The Tell Victoria seems to be distracted at times, as if she's listening to voices only she can hear. The Carriage House An auxiliary building that predates the movement of the Coffin House to the property. It was used as storage for many years, until Victoria cajoled the school into letting it get turned into a lounge. And who has keys? Well, Amanda, student council and all that, which is close enough to Victoria having the keys herself. It's become a favored location for after-hours hijinks - mostly casual drinking and sex - and so far the school's looked the other way. Platonicsolid fucked around with this message at 02:35 on Jan 1, 2015 |
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Dec 31, 2014 22:09
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Thanks everyone for the submissions! I'll provide a question for everyone when I return from a New Year's Party tomorrow afternoon.
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Jan 1, 2015 00:08
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slydingdoor fucked around with this message at 04:31 on Jan 1, 2015 |
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Jan 1, 2015 00:24
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 When my parents dropped me off at Coffin House, they told me never to leave the grounds. As long as I stayed here, Mr. Marcus would protect me. I asked why I needed protection, and my Mother kissed me on the forehead, and told me she loved me and that I'd understand someday if I was a good girl. Then... she left. It's hard not knowing where my parents are, or if they're OK. For a while they sent me letters but then they... didn't anymore. I couldn't really write back because they were traveling, the postmarks were from a lot of different states, and then from different countries too. I didn't have a phone number or even an email for them either. It's not bad living here, but I miss them, and I miss our house out in the country in Michigan. At least the animals here are nice, (most of them anyway.) I'm not so lonely thanks to that. The staff keeps their distance from me, mostly. I try not to make too much trouble for them or the other kids. Oh, yes, there's other "wards" here too, and we go to the same school. Some of them are OK and some are kind of scary. I was home-schooled when I was younger so I don't always know how to act around them, but I think I'm getting better about that. I'm not shy really, just careful. I haven't got the courage up to ask Mr. Marcus why he's protecting me, or what from. I don't think I'll like the answers. quote:Name: Thea Ashton, The Unicorn Why did you accept Marcus’ offer?- I didn't, not like the other kids here. My parents approached Mr. Marcus. Father told me so, while we were driving out here. It's strange, everyone else acts like this is the biggest opportunity they've had, but I feel him looking at me sometimes... Like I'm an object instead of a person. I wonder what they paid, or... or maybe he paid them... How else did they get the money to travel all over like that? Tell me about an interesting room/place you discovered in the mansion.- There's an old greenhouse on the back of the house. It was unused when I first moved here, but I talked to the gardeners and we've started to plant flowers and vegetables inside. It smells so nice and earthy in there, and there's butterflies- I don't know where they came from but a whole bunch of butterflies moved in all on their own! It's still small and not finished but that's where I go when I want some peace. mistaya fucked around with this message at 04:29 on Jan 1, 2015 |
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Jan 1, 2015 01:56
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 Zachary Hunter, Werewolf Every kid dreads getting "the talk" from their parents. But when it includes "if you're not careful, you'll turn into a raging death machine", that's a whole new level of awkward. You see, long long ago some ancestors of mine were granted a sort of "gift" by the Moon. Yes, the actual moon. I don't know either but at least it's better then a lot of myths and movies portray it. You can become a wolf whenever, you get better senses (and you don't even have be wolf form to get them either!), and the Moon has a lot of interesting things to say and actually likes to chat. However there is the whole "getting too angry makes you go lose control" bit, which is why my parents constantly tried to make sure I knew to keep my temper in check. I've always a hard time with that though. Of course, there's also things werewolves don't have. That whole bit about only silver being able to kill a werewolf and otherwise they're immortal is bunk. You can still die from a regular bullet, or a fall, or a drunk driver slamming his car into yours in the dead of the night. I can still remember fighting to get out of the wreckage, and seeing my parents lying there, unmoving. The other driver stumbled over (of course he was completely fine), and goes "Oh poo poo", as if he accidentally spilled his drink on someone at a party instead of carelessly slamming into them with his car. I look at him, and then back to my parents, and then him, and I'm getting angrier and angrier and then...I changed. At first when the police arrive they figure I had been the only survivor by sheer luck. They had no idea what to make of the other driver and his injuries. I had blood on me and my clothes were torn up so they take me to the hospital. But when they see that I'm actually uninjured, they start asking pointed questions. I was able to delay actually answering but things weren't looking too good for me, until Mr. Young came in to talk. I didn't know who he was, but he offered to take me in. I was hesitant at first but soon agreed. Didn't have anything to lose really. And besides, this new place is quite nice - I should be able to unwind and relax here. quote:Look: Wiry, wolf eyes Tell: Eyes very briefly turn red when incredibly angry Questions: First, why did you accept Marcus’ offer? The police couldn't really pin anything on me, but it was obvious they were going to try for something. Besides, Mr. Young seems to be a nice enough guy - the Moon itself approved of him. "I'd take Young up on his offer kiddo," it said. "This is probably a once in a lifetime chance. Of course, that's just my advice. Feel free to do what you like." Second, tell me about an interesting room/place you discovered in the mansion. Way up on top is an observatory. There's a really great telescope, and the shelves are lined with books on astronomy and even astrology. When I really need to talk to the Moon I like to do it here. We can chat anywhere actually, but the Moon and I feel it's always nice to be able to look at who you're talking to.
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Jan 1, 2015 01:58
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Alex Phane, Ghost of the 90's  Theme Song: Creep by Scala & Kolacny Brothers I guess it sounds stupid now, but I didn't see any reason to go on living after Kurt Cobain died. It wasn't just that; I mean, it would be pretty dumb to kill yourself just to be a copycat to a musician, even if he was the best musician who ever lived. I guess the first thing was when they opened up my locker in gym and found my notebook where I wrote down song lyrics, and the jocks all took turns reading them out loud and laughing. And then my mother found one of the letters I wrote to Janey, and threatened to send me to one of those Jesusy camps where they fix kids who... aren't normal. And then Kurt killed himself, and if he wasn't strong enough to stand up to stand up to the world... well, who was I? So Janey and I made this pact. Her father collected guns, and we each got one, and we made things up real nice, dressed all fancy and with music playing, and we... and we... Well, it's not really suicide if you do it that way, is it? Not if you don't point the gun at yourself. Only, I couldn't. But Janey... I guess it sounds stupid now, but I didn't see any reason to go on living after Kurt Cobain died. It wasn't just that; I mean, it would be pretty dumb to-- Sorry. Sorry. I get stuck in a loop sometimes, and if I don't concentrate really hard, I keep doing the same things, over and over. And I guess I did that for a long time, because I don't really remember dying, or what happened to janey, but the next thing I do remember is being in an old, abandoned house. Just completely empty; even the electricity was off. But it was my house. I found some belongings in the basement, but they weren't mine, or even my parents. They were some boxes of clothes and pictures, of a different family. I guess the house changed hands several times. I guess nobody wanted to live in a haunted house. I guess... I guess it sounds stupid now, but I didn't see any reason to go on living after Kurt Cobain died. Mr. Young says that it's been twenty years since he died. Since I died. I didn't believe him, but he showed me the newspaper, and the president was a black guy. So I guess it really is the future. He found some of my old things, and brought them to his school. I can only stay somewhere if it contains a tie to my life, like my old guitar I keep in my room. Mr. Young is nice, but everyone I remember is old now, and everyone I meet is new and scary and different. But I have to become different too, otherwise I'll keep stuttering forever. And that's worse than dying. quote:Alex Phane, ghost. Why did you accept Marcus’ offer? Well, what else did I have? I don't know what happened to my parents, and they're 20 years older now, and they were really lovely anyway. At least Mr. Young can always see me; most people forget I'm there if I don't remind them. And I can't get very far away from my possessions without feeling... this really awful feeling. So I'm pretty much trapped here. Also, the people here are really weird. I've been watching some of them, when they don't know I'm looking. Second, tell me about an interesting room/place you discovered in the mansion. Did you know they have an entire room full of computers? Some of the computers are so small you can hold them in your hand, and they all connect to one another. And there's music in some of them; like, an infinite amount of music, and you can listen to as much of it as you want, for free. Since I don't sleep anymore, sometimes I go down there and listen to it all night long. Old Kentucky Shark fucked around with this message at 21:37 on Jan 3, 2015 |
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Jan 1, 2015 03:48
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 Kara, the Ghoul  with special guest Hash-Ak-Reth, Subduer of Unseen Ages Let the masses tremble, for my coming heralds a bloodstained dawn against which no man may hope to wait no hold on come back I think I've got this under control. We should probably get this out of the way, I'm kind of maybe a little dead. You can blame my parents for some of that, they were in deep with this cult-type thing - Age of the Devourer, and yeah, I know it sounds like a band - and from what I've figured out since then, they had this great idea to summon their demon master or whatever into somebody. So of course, because nothing can ever be simple, they did this hundred-year breeding program to produce...I guess the perfect demon vessel. What exactly do genetics have to do with magic demon stuff? Aren't those pretty much opposites? Sorry, anyway, the point is, apparently that was me. A hundred years of work and screwing and little boring me is what pops out. I can't imagine they were proud. So a few years back, it was my 13th birthday, and they're supposed to do a ritual and stab me in the heart with a special knife, and then the demon takes over and something something thousand years of darkness something something. And they're waiting in our living room with the rest of the cult, you know, waiting on me to get home so they can do the ritual, and I'm crossing the street outside and I step off the curb without looking both ways and just get plowed by a semi. I know, right? A hundred years! And a truck just undoes all the machinations that they, in their hubris, dared to....I'm doing it again. I'm really sorry. I should probably explain - I was lying there in the road. Dying, obviously. And my parents and a bunch of people in red robes and pointy hoods (I would have made a Klan joke but I had other problems) came running out and freaked out about it, and while I was trying to figure out what was going on, I just kind of...died. I was slipping away and there was a light at the end of the tunnel and a bunch of distant voices chanting 'Hash-Ak-Reth', and then apparently somebody stabbed me with the knife right as I kicked off. So this turned out to be a pretty bad idea, because the explosion killed all of them and put a giant hole in the street. City of Miami's probably still trying to fill it in. Another reason it was a really bad idea was...well, apparently it didn't totally take. I mean, I woke up again, but at the core I'm still me. ...I think. See, I may be...stay with here, okay, I promise it's not gonna be too bad...very slightly...a little bit demon-possessed now. Just a little! Don't go! It's not like the Exorcist or anything, he's just...in here. Whispering to me. Sometimes he takes over, but not as much now. I mean, at the beginning, we fought all the time and more often than not, he'd win because I had no idea how to deal with this kind of thing, and then I'd be setting stuff on fire or talking like Skeletor or...seriously, look at my hair. Not my choice. All him. I used to be totally normal-looking! I've gotten better at keeping control of myself, though, so things are more even now. We're in this together, I guess. He needs someone to 'sow the terror of their rightful masters within the souls of the cow-eyed mortals', and I need somebody to keep me alive, so I let him take the reins sometimes. It's not so bad - Hash-Ak-Reth knows a lot of stuff, which definitely helps in history class, and he usually doesn't do anything too bad, just...kinda like pranks, really. I can usually shout him down if he tries to go too far, I've been getting a lot better about that ever since I got put in the Coffin House. I, ah. I don't actually do that a lot, though. To tell you the truth, I...kind of like when I've got him going full blast, sometimes. He's confident and he doesn't take crap from anybody. And he makes people afraid of me, just a little. It makes me feel powerful. In control. Kinda sexy. I mean I'm not going to wear any more pentagrams than the one already around my neck and start going 'hail Satan' and do all this stuff on my own, just...maybe I don't mind so much if he does it. I could do without telling people I'm going to burn their fields and spill my seed in their women, though. I wish he'd stop that. quote:Kara del Rey, Ghoul The Tell You've, uh, probably figured this out, but Hash-Ak-Reth comes out a lot. Not necessarily takes over, but we're...it's kind of an equal partnership. Really. So he gets some time at the wheel, especially when I'm stressed out, and he talks...pretty much like you'd expect. It's really obvious. I think the only thing that's saved me so far is that he makes me kinda scary. Mostly through yelling. Lots and lots of yelling. The Offer Wouldn't you accept that offer? I'd been in and out of something like eight foster homes in two years. It's really easy to get labeled 'totally incorrigible' when the demon inside you tries to use a switchblade on your guardian because he doesn't like the idea of lights out at nine-thirty. So I was a little suspicious at first - it seemed too good to be true - but I couldn't risk turning that offer down if there was a chance this thing was legit. Which, don't get me wrong, it's been legit so far. Mr. Young's taking on some serious challenges, but he's been patient and pretty fair, all things considered. I didn't want to, but I respect the guy. Weird enough, so does Hash-Ak-Reth. The Place Enough of this farce. Too long has the vessel attempted to muzzle me - to duel in wills against a creature that was ancient when your world was yet newborn. Preposterous. I, the Slavemaker, the Subduer of Unseen Ages, the Scion of Mortal Terror, will answer your supplication. When first we came to this 'Coffin House', I embarked upon a hunt for places of power - places that, with the wisdom of ages, one might possess to twist the fabric of the mortal plane itself to one's will. A mile north of the main garrison-- Dorms. They're called dorms. Be silent. A mile north of the main...dorms, one such place exists - a grove, tinged with diabolical ether and strewn with the stone remnants of what must have once been a shrine of sorts. Ancient and dilapidated to the point of total destruction, it nonetheless poses interesting questions. What transpired here? Were there principalities of ages past in this realm? Do they yet linger? Perhaps most importantly, could the grove be turned toward a renewed purpose? Imagine what could be done with a place of power. The quailing masses, stricken blind with terror, casting their children into the Moloch-fires so that the eyes of Hash-Ak-Reth might be turned away. Marvelous. Yes, I have found many avenues of inquiry.
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Jan 1, 2015 05:05
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 Matteau Aimesbrook, the Sasquatch Houdini - Foster the People All I Want - LCD Soundsystem Matteau. Matteau. Aimesbrook. Aimesbrook. Huh? Oh. This is kinda embarrassing. See, I tend to forget a lot of things when I'm under stress, like what I'm supposed to be doing here, where the doors in the mansion go, what my name is. Mah. Toe. Aims. Brook. It's a little complicated, for a name. Not like John Smith or James Dean. Two syllables. Mine is four. And uncommon. Uncommon describes a lot about me, I think. Anyway, that's only if I'm under stress. The problem is, it feels like I'm always under fire sometimes. Always. Everything is like a big test and it's hard for me to study while I'm already fifteen questions in, y'know? I mean, if the years of my life were questions on a test, I wouldn't be even close to finishing my chapter 15 test. I already made that metaphor, right? Sorry. See? I just worry all the time. I can't stop it, and why shouldn't I, really? I'm faced with a lot of big questions, all the time. Like, why am I here? I don't mean the school--I know that part--but on the Earth. I don't have parents that I can remember and I was never in foster care as far as I can remember, so that just leaves... school. I was in school since the beginning of, y'know, school. Preschool, even. But I never made any friends, and nobody tried to talk to me. I was a body in a seat. They knew someone was there, but it was never me. They called me by other kids names, if they ever did. Then my home is... a blur. There should have been a mom and dad, from my experience or lack thereof, but it was like I fell asleep and woke up back in school. I watch a lot of those ghost finder shows. Maybe I'm a ghost... (gasp) (gasp) (gasp) Ha-a-a-a... I can't be a ghost. You can feel me, right? Here, my hand is real, my hair is real--if it ever decides on a color--and my face, I'm--ow, ow. New piercings. Sorry. I could be a robot... Uh, no, I bleed like a human. (gasp) Ha-a-a-a-a... I have proof of that. People tend to think I'm a gas leak, but--Nevermind. You know what? I think I'm a golem. I'm just, like, made out of anxiety. I'm a walking worry wart. Sorry, that sounds really dumb. I'm just clueless. Hopeless, even. I know I have a name. Matteau. Aimesbrook. (sigh) Matteau Aimesbrook. I couldn't even tell you who gave it to me. It's just the first thing that comes to mind. Most of the time. quote:
The Forgotten Room: How did I get here? Well, I... I was on a field trip to this mansion, for my middle school. Mr. Young invited us to tour New Salem. School, I mean. It was really cool. And I liked it so much I guess they left me here so I could keep enjoying it. I definitely panicked a lot. Actually, funny? No, not funny. A story about that. I got really lost trying to find my classmates and... don't even ask me how I did it, but I found a room with no doors in the mansion. It does have a window facing out toward one of the courtyards, but it's on the third floor and... I think it was walled up for some reason. There was a door frame on my side of the wall, but when I went to look for it again all the doors were accounted for in the hallway it's supposed to be in. It's not like it's completely abandoned--I mean, it's got sunlight coming through it, and there's electrical outlets and stuff. Nothing to sit on. Makes me wonder why it got that way in the first place. Anyway, I started crying, and I called the school but I couldn't even make out a word. I was hyperventilating, probably. I was just left to wallow in my... pain? No, I wasn't hurt. Just... hurt, I guess. And then Mr. Young put his hand on my shoulder and talked me through my panic attack... It was really the first time I was noticed by an adult. Or anyone, in a really personal way. I couldn't say no. I really do like it here. How did I get up there anyway? A tree? Yeah, a tree, I think. Probably climbed there from a branch, like a cat. Polecat. I get told I look like a polecat, or skunk I guess. Thought that would be... funny. Double May Care fucked around with this message at 21:38 on Jan 1, 2015 |
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Jan 1, 2015 06:16
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 Lazarus Robertson, the Witch Do you have any idea what's going on? Any idea at all? Of course not. You, just like every other mindless drone who serve under the secret masters of the earth, think the worst things in the world are just humans, with their human weapons, and their human institutions. No, my friend, it goes far deeper than that. Far, far deeper. For me, It all started when I found an old book my birth parents owned. It was a guide to the dark secrets of the universe, what was after us, and how protecting ourselves from it was not a matter of might and justice, but of subtlety and manipulation. I studied it and taught my self how to perform hexes, and I studied the world for signs. You've heard the lizardman conspiracy, right? Well what I believe we're dealing with is something a lot more terrifying than a lizard, and far more sinister. I think a lot of the other conspiricies are right, too. The chemical trails left by planes, the mind-control substances in the water, the AIDS virus, the secret meetings disguised as think tanks and Bilderburg meetings. The Freemasons and the Illuminatii might have tried to stop it, but they're long gone. I tired teeling people I could trust, but my parents pretended they didn't know what I was talking about, and my friends thought I was a liar. One night, they came for us. At least, I think they came for us. It could've just been some poor fool with more ammunition than sense. But my parents were dead and I was hiding with a book tucked away. I was made a ward of the state, and the book was consfiscated. I thought it was all over, and I had lost. Then one day, a man came and said he would place me under his care. A man of wealth named Marcus. Something about him said "Yes, I know everything, and I can help". I knew I had to be with this man at all costs. I chose my words very carefully, to be certain he wouldn't change his mind. And surpisingly enough, I'm now a student at a school for the wealthy and living in what amounts to a castle. More importantly, I have found a hidden library on the occult in the bowels of the estate. I've also made it my place of magical practice, and my place of conspiracy study. I've been very careful. I have to act like I don't know. It's been enough that some people don't look at me and call me a crazy person. Maybe, just maybe, I may bring this world back into the light. Witch Moves Sympathetic Tokens: You gain power from sympathetic tokens - items of personal significance that you take from others. Each sympathetic token counts as a String. Hex-Casting You can cast Hexes. Choose two that you know. To cast them, either expend a sympathetic token during a secret ritual, or meet the target’s gaze and chant at them in tongues. Then roll with dark. On a 10 up, the Hex works, and can easily be reversed. On a 7-9, it works but choose one: - the casting does you 1 harm; - the Hex has unexpected side effects; - trigger your Darkest Self. Sanctuary You have a secret place for practising witchcraft. Add 1 to all rolls you make within this space. Hexes Ring of Lies Whenever the person attempts to lie, they hear a piercing ringing noise. Big lies will often make their knees buckle and disorient them. Severe lies can cause harm or even brain damage. Watching You enter a deep sleep, and begin to see the world through the eyes of the hexed. You can feel their reactions to and impressions of what they are seeing. Sex Move After sex, you can take a sympathetic token from them. They know about it, and it’s cool. Darkest Self The time for subtlety and patience is over. You’re too powerful to put up with their garbage any longer. You hex anyone who slights you. All of your hexes have unexpected side effects, and are more effective than you are comfortable with. To escape your Darkest Self, you must offer peace to the one you have hurt the most. Tell: Has a crazed look in his eyes, wears a loving trenchcoat, and covered in occult symbols.
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Jan 1, 2015 08:09
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Okay so it turns out I lied. Sorry about that. Cole Burnett, the Vampire. "I close my eyes and seize it / I clench my fist and beat it / I light my torch and burn it / I am the beast I worship." Sure is some aggrandizing poo poo to say about yourself, I know, but I can't help but identify just a little bit with it. Maybe it's just me remembering the bad days. Hard to tell sometimes. Yeah, I wasn't exactly from a foster system, but in some ways I got it worse. I actually got to stick around to watch my family crumble to ashes rather than get pulled out and stuck with a bunch of equally victimized children. Mom started drinking, Dad got to his mid-life crisis at age 34 and went off with a dumb barely legal racist and took them both off the cliff with their no down payment Maserati. I started getting...pangs shortly afterwards. Nothing that told me anything, just pangs for no reason. I started noticing people started acting weirdly around me too. I mean sure, I was always complemented for stuff like "having a strong voice" and "being assertive", but at the time it was more like people just shut down when I got in the middle of their business. Then one night I just started...remembering things. Things I shouldn't have known. It wasn't focused, like someone put a modern spin on a historical documentary on stuff like, I dunno, say the Black Plague or the Salem Witch Trials. But that night I went home, and that was the night Mom wound up throwing the bottle at my head. She was hysterical, said she knew what I was, kept going on about how the family was cursed. If that bottle had been chucked just an inch more to my left, I'd probably be dead right now. Instead, I got a scar on the side of my head, and a very, very intense realization of just who I was. I still remember what my own blood tasted like. I remember the intensity of the visions, the memories of the lives I've had before. I remember that I saw my name, the name I had before, but hell if I can remember it now. I understood a little bit more about what my mother meant. This wasn't the first time I was here. I dunno how I was reborn, but I could see things differently now. People got a lot more transparent to me, a lot less...real. Skin started looking more like plastic, like a glorified IV bag made to preserve the bullshit they kept spewing. I'm still not entirely sure they're not sometimes. I tell you though, I'd probably be a hell of a lot poorer son of a bitch if Mr. Young didn't show up. Somehow he managed to look past all of the horrible nonsense, all the nihilistic grumblings I had to spew, and decided to hook me up with a way out of that hellhole. To be honest, I'm not sure he understood just who he brought in. But you know what? That's alright. I tell you, as much as I can complain sometimes, it's good being here. It took a little while getting used to all the nice clothes, all the cutting edge gadgets everywhere, having an OS newer than Windows Vista, but...well, let's just say it ain't that hard. If there is one thing I don't appreciate though, it's all the plastic poo poo. Not like, physical plastic, social plastic. I still see the IV bags sometimes. Maybe it's this weird new perspective, but man I forgot how much my generation is full of poo poo. I mean have you seen some of their social media timelines? Nonstop passive aggressive headbutting because someone dissed their video games. Over video games for Christ's sake, and it's still going! And don't even get me started about that poo poo about what happened in downtown Richmond. At least they shut up when I tell them to. quote:Cole Burnett, Vampire 1): I realized there wasn't going to be anywhere else to go after that night. Sure, I could've bummed around in whatever the hell the government had set up for poor souls like me, or what they think I am anyways. Honestly I ask that myself when I see the dumb poo poo some of my "classmates" end up saying. But the truth of the matter was, no matter how I looked at it, this was a better life for me. Actually, come to think of it, it was something Marcus said. I don't even know if he really wanted me to focus on what he said, but I still remember it; "Too many people think they're damned, when all they really are is lost." I know this sounds weird but...I know I heard that before. I know I heard that before. And when I heard it, for whatever reason, it gave me just enough hope to sign up. 2): There is an honest to god aquatic ecosystem installed here. You know down by the labs right? You go down, hang a couple rights and go down a couple flights, there's an unmarked door right by maintenance. Head in there, go past a couple of empty aquarium tanks, and right there is a practically self-sufficient aquatic biome. Just right there! And I'm not exactly a biologist or whatever, but some of the stuff there looks positively ancient. Thing is, I hardly see anyone head down here anymore. Figure that means I can go down there to get away from all the stuff upstairs, you know? Of course, lately I've been seeing a couple things that I don't remember leaving there...
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Jan 1, 2015 08:45
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Ooh, this looks interesting. Hey Jack, is there any place in IRC I could talk to you? I'm thinking of making a Neighbour and figured it's a good idea to discuss the concept for approval without cluttering up the thread.
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Jan 1, 2015 08:49
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 Samantha "Sam" Walsh The Cuckoo Me? I'm not that interesting, but other people, other people are fascinating. I'm an orphan, adopted My mom died giving birth to me and no one was ever able to track down my dad. So I've bounced around the foster system for years. I never really seemed to fit in anywhere I mean most of my foster families were ok I guess, but I dunno it's just always been kind of hard for me to express myself. I always feel like I'm on the outside looking in, Like everyone else is living this wonderful life and all I can do is watch. It used to make me lash out at people and then bam back to the fostering service. It was only a couple of years ago that things really started changing for me. I'd been packed off to yet another foster family. Frank was a rich corporate lawyer of some sort and Maria was one of those stay at home moms who spends her whole life competing with the neighbours to be the best. Anyway they had a daughter Cindy, A year or two older than me. To be honest she really got on my nerves with how perfect she was. See I'd only just hit puberty and well as you can see it wasn't particularly kind to me, but her well, she had it all the looks and the confidence. All the guys wanted her, she was the head cheerleader and really athletic and toned. So they practically never left her alone. Me I was the ugly duckling to her beautiful swan. None of them even looked at me. Still one night she was off to some party with her latest boyfriend and she'd left me to my own devices. I thought well I'm not going to stay in on my own while she's out having fun so I decided to go out as well. Only problem was I didn't have anything to wear. So I decided to borrow one of her tops that should just about fit me. I remember pulling it on and smelling the scent of her perfume on it. I felt a tingle down the back of my spine and I just happened to look in the mirror to see how it fit only it wasn't my face looking back it was hers. I kinda freaked. I think my first reaction was holy poo poo, I remember swearing but it wasn't even my voice it was hers. Something really weird had obviously happened to me. I'd become her. And I knew that was what I'd always wanted. So I did the only thing I could and took Her/me for a test drive. Walking felt weird like my whole center of gravity had changed or something, my stride was longer and my arms felt...softer. It wasn't just the way I felt physically either people treat you differently when you're good looking. Men were watching me walk down the street and it felt great. I went to the mall and even there people treated me different. I remember going to buy that CD I wanted, I went over to the counter and tried to pay for it, but the guy wouldn't even look me in the eye and seemed to be more interested in my chest and then he started flirting with me, no one had ever been interested in me like that before. Jeez is this what Cindy went through all the time? I remember thinking. I loved it. The attention the attraction. Guys fighting over you. It became an addiction. Whenever my life got too much. I'd escape into hers, while she snuck off with her boyfriend for some alone time I could go out and be her. I even found a boyfriend of my own, tall dark handsome, and he seemed really into me... or into her at least. Then the rumours started to spread. Someone must've seen me as her, because people started claiming she was two-timing her boyfriend and well they had a pretty nasty break up. I swear I never intended what happened next. It must've have really upset her because she tried to slice open her wrists. I-I found her, blood dripping everywhere I remember calling 911 desperately, the paramedics storming in, They saved her life in the end but it wasn't the same any more. I'd nearly got her killed and for what my own bit of fun. Her parents blamed me of course "I was a bad influence" So I ended up bouncing back to the fostering service. Since then I've been in and out of foster homes and well it turns out that whatever it is I do works with anyone's clothes. You ever hear the phrase "Before you judge a man, walk a mile in his shoes?" Well I've walked in their shoes, I've kissed their dates, I've shared their sorrows and their joys but I try to be careful now, I don't want to ruin anyone's life again. You know unless they deserve it.... quote:Name: Samantha "Sam" Walsh Tell: Sam is almost always constantly fiddling with her clothes, smoothing her skirt, tightening her belt, tucking her shirt in and out. Almost like she's not comfortable with what she's wearing. Why did you accept Marcus’ offer? I didn't have anywhere else to go. I'd been in and out of so many foster homes that I'd obviously been tagged as a problem kid and it seemed no one else wanted me till he showed up. I remember Marcus sitting down with me, and he asked me to go back with him. Said there'd be plenty of other kids around my age, and that while I was there I could learn a lot and choose who I wanted to be. Strange, he said who not what I wonder if he know what I am. I never realised that till now. Still at the time the offer seemed to good to be true and I would've been a fool to say no. Second, tell me about an interesting room/place you discovered in the mansion. There's this little ornamental garden in the grounds tucked into a stand of trees. It looks Japanese or something. I found it not long after I arrived here. I've never seen another soul there but it's always immaculately maintained. And it's a really quiet and peaceful place. I like to go and sit there when things get too much for me. To tell you the truth it's the only place I feel comfortable as just plain old me. Ferrosol fucked around with this message at 12:20 on Jan 1, 2015 |
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Jan 1, 2015 12:11
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 First things first, I'm not real. Not in the sense that I'm a hallucination, I definitely exist here in this body and as far as any kind of background check will tell you I'm a normal girl with a normal family. OK, maybe normal is stretching it - normal girls don't obsess over rocks and minerals and ores and the movement of tectonic plates to the extent that I do. But outside of being a chronic geology nerd, pretty ordinary. But it's all a fabrication, wrapped in a lie, inside an illusion. I'm not a human, I was never born to my mother and father, and near as I can tell I sprang into existence fully formed about a year ago. 30 students walked into a cave system at Grand Canyon Caverns on a field trip, and 31 walked out. I have memories of a childhood, and birthdays, and crushes and falling off a bike and breaking my arm when I was 9. And then I have a second set of memories which tell me the first set are false, imposed on me by my real self to help me hide among the herd. That's what the second set of memories, the real ones, insists on calling people who aren't useful. So, if I'm not Daria Mooney, fairly ordinary girl at an elite private school, what am I? It's not really easy to describe. I'm like the tip of an iceberg, or the bit of coal seam that appears above ground. Or like a surface hotspot, where magma is pushing through the crust. A projection of a much larger, stranger being into a world that's too small and normal for me to exist as I really am. A dream, but not the kind of pale flickering dream that human minds use to refresh their brains and make sense of the bizarre, a solid dream, capable of creating ripples through space and time to protect itself from discovery. A dream with purpose. A Dragon's dream. That's the what, and probably the how. The why is a little trickier - there are parts of my memory I simply can't access or understand, the human brain I'm operating with is limited in a number of ways. Viewing time as linear, for a start. Makes it hard to figure out why I wanted to create myself. For the time being I work on building my collection, gathering useful servants, and blending in with the herd. If only it was that easy. As fake as this life and body are, they still exist, and make demands of me. Stupid, illogical, demands. quote:Daria Mooney, the Wyrm My...created or adopted family, I'm not sure which, were never well equipped to help me. They were irritatingly vague, useful only for flapping around and trying to provide sustenance for what they thought was their daughter. They didn't understand my needs, or my drive to hoard. The offer from Marcus was a grand opportunity for me to spread my figurative wings - the space and resources of the mansion have afforded plenty of opportunity to acquire interesting minerals and meet interesting people. It's mutually beneficial, as well. Or at least, that's how Marcus explained it. I presume he means that he expects to benefit when I am able to be more of myself. It was very thoughtful of the builders to have constructed this mansion over a large limestone cave network, similar to the Lemp mansion in St Louis. The caves here have never been used for brewing beer or running spirits, and are not wholly explored. There are strange breezes, the sound of water, the faint taste of gold in the rocks there. It hasn't been mined, or exploited, or even used for storage. The staff at the house almost categorically refuse to enter it, and we wards have been refused permission as well. That won't stop me, of course, but I will have to be more circumspect. thatbastardken fucked around with this message at 05:45 on Jan 2, 2015 |
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Jan 1, 2015 16:11
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Qadim al-Harith The Djinn (Fae) I am Qadim al-Harith, and I am the son of the Sultan of the City of Brass, heir to one of the great rulers of the Marid, the strongest of the jinn, those born of smokeless fire by the Creator, the All merciful one. I am Qadim al-Harith, and I am an undocumented refugee only spared deportation because of Marcus' kindness, who owns nothing of his own and has trouble adapting to life in America sometimes. Both of these are true. I was born in a place where humans can't go. A place of endless wonders and beauty, out of reach of mankind, unless God allows it. And there, I was most exalted. My father raised me wanting for nothing, and as long as I obeyed the laws of God and his prophet, nothing was forbidden for me. But as I grew, I found beauty and desire leading me to those places I was not allowed to. The sons of one of my father's emir's, Dhywyd, was of my age, and we often would play in flight, cavorting with rocs and racing around the city walls. But desire whispered to me, and I found myself desiring his closeness, more than I was taught was allowed, and Dhywyd was alike in desire. Thus as we grew, childish play became a game of temptation. A game we both lost. I will not recall the circumstances of our unmasking in detail. They are as painful as they are irrelevant. Dhywyd fled in fear, while I was taken before my father in judgement. His sentence was harsh. I was to be banned from the City of Brass, to have my essence hid in clay-born flesh like the sons of Adam, and to live among them. All my possessions, all my fineries were taken from me. Only a single brass ring with my sigil was I allowed to keep, to remind me of what my indulgence had cost. And then I was cast out in the lands known as Arizona. For some time, I survived on wit and thievery. Fortunately, my father had given me the knowledge of the tongues of Man, so I could speak. But among the Americans, who mostly look like Franks, my guise did not gain trust. And inevitably, the guards of their rulers chained me. They thought me a refugee from the lands of Syria, that contain fair Damascus. And my fate was to be returned thence. I knew enough to know that these places would likely soon lead to my demise. And then, mercifully, Marcus came to me and offered succor from my plight. Readily, I agreed, to live in his school and there learn my place here. And perhaps seek redemption. But... This place, while drab compared to my home, contains more temptation than the City of Brass does. The calls that condemn the actions that brought me here sound as well, yet are contradicted elsewhere. Why would my father have brought me to this place? Does he seek me to prove myself in these lands? Or did he bring me here to seek happiness among others mired in sin? For now, I try to stay true to the precepts the Prophet (Peace be upon him) gave to man and jinn, even if it brings me mockery, suspicion and even hatred, but my thoughts so often stray. quote:Name: Qadim al-Harith Tell: Qadim's body temperature is abnormally high, as if he always has a fever. When angered or excited, this gets even worse. Question 1: I was not in a position to refuse Marcus' kind offer. Alone and without family here, being sent to the wartorn country of Syria would be a harsh fate for me. I do not know what purpose he has in choosing me, even as others might be saved by him. Does he know of my nature? Is he sent by my father to aid me? Is it a mercy by the All Merciful one, or a trick by Ibliss? He did say one thing I do recall "Obeying the law without thinking about the reason for the law is stupid." I then thought him speaking of those that sought to deport me, but I oft wonder. Question 2: On my wanderings, I have found a most pleasing place. They aresmall thermae, in the style of ancient Rome, yet combining those ancient beauty with the marvels of engineering of these days Statuary and frescoes add beauty, and the place is always clean and well supplied with fresh and fragrant towels and oils and soaps. I spend many an hour there. Few do, since most have their own bathroom, but that simply means I often have the place to myself. Shogeton fucked around with this message at 21:57 on Jan 1, 2015 |
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Jan 1, 2015 21:54
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inklesspen posted:Toby Hawke, Mortal 2. New Salem's policies are trans supportive...Ms. Lee is, anyway. But that doesn't extend to all the faculty and students. Who's been giving you poo poo, and how are you dealing with it so far? SuddenConsequences posted:Violet Chambers, the Infernal 2. You're the only one who's been sent to Ms. Lee's office so far. What did she want to talk to you about, and how much hell did you catch? Jolinaxas posted:Jackie, the Chosen 2. With your exercise regimen, you're in no danger of flunking gym. But some of your "training" attracted unwanted attention when you got in a little practice at school. What were you up to, and who noticed? slydingdoor posted:Luka, the Infernal 2. Try as you might, not everybody hates your guts--in fact, someone was so drawn to you that it made it hard to get up to mischief. How did you meet, and how did you get rid of them? Platonicsolid posted:Victoria Owens, the Queen 2. You had to come down on Amanda pretty hard a few weeks ago. I mean, she was really crying, but some things just aren't acceptable if she's going to hang with you. What did she do to offend you? mistaya posted:Thea Ashton, The Unicorn 2. You're hard on yourself, and you had a little freakout when you couldn't get something right in class--you're not used to having so many eyes on you. Now a couple of classmates are giving you a hard time about it. What happened? Heliotrope posted:Zachary Hunter, the Werewolf 2. Lucky for you, you've only lost your temper at school once so far, but it wasn't pretty. What happened and what did you do? Old Kentucky Shark posted:Alex Phane, the Ghost 2. You almost got caught spying on someone. It's okay, I know it wasn't like that. But what were you trying to learn? Solomonic posted:Kara the Ghoul 2. Hash-Ak-Reth has reared his head a few times, but one of your teachers just found it amusing. What did you do that had them doubled over with laughter? Rather Watch Them posted:Matteau Aimesbrook, the Sasquatch 2. Maybe most people don't remember you, but you remember the things they tell you. What's the best secret you've heard someone blurt out? Mr Tastee posted:Lazarus Robertson, the Witch 2. Someone in homeroom was so suspicious that you had to use your powers on them. What did you see through their eyes? AlanWhats posted:Cole Burnett, the Vampire. 2. Where do you go to feed? Ferrosol posted:Samantha "Sam" Walsh, the Cuckoo 2. You've had a little fun at New Salem, and haven't blown your cover yet. But what's that thing you do that would give you away, if they knew to look for it? Shogeton posted:Qadim al-Harith, the Fae 2. You've already had to make a promise yourself to save face, and you've kept it. What did you do? Halloween Jack fucked around with this message at 03:19 on Jan 2, 2015 |
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Jan 2, 2015 03:15
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Halloween Jack posted:1. Violet, it sounds like with Mr. S in your corner, you didn't think you needed friends. Without him, you'd be just another one of the kids you pity. What is it about being one of those kids that scares you the most, that he's protected you from all your life? It's not all Mr. S, he just helps me out! I'm not weak like the rest of them, especially the kids at the orphanage. Abandoned and alone because they're not cute enough or too violent or too old or whatever. Because they're not good enough to have parents, biological or adopted. I'm not like that because I got a flame inside, I have power and that's why Mr. S looks out for me. Not the other way around! Sometimes the flame just burns out, that's all. Needs to be rekindled and some time to flare up again... Halloween Jack posted:2. You're the only one who's been sent to Ms. Lee's office so far. What did she want to talk to you about, and how much hell did you catch? Pff, some poo poo about messing with Maya Simms locker and dumping a bunch of crickets I lifted from the pet shop in there. What? She was being a bitch to me in science class so I figured that'd show her. Not my fault someone saw me do it and narced on me. I bet Lee just made such a big deal out of it cause I'm one of Young's kids anyway. So now I got detention all of next week. Whatever, screw her. Bitch needs to get laid and lighten up some.
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Jan 2, 2015 04:13
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Halloween Jack posted:1. Toby, it sounds like your mother is letting you down, but you think it's the other way around. What have you been doing to try to earn her support? 1. "An it harm none," right? I'm not sure if I believe the workings I do have any more effect than to clear my head and boost my self-confidence, but it doesn't hurt to try. I found a spell on one of the pagan forums I go to that's supposed to help her see things from my perspective. I hope it works, because this crystal was kind of expensive. 2. Most of the students are pretty supportive, or at least they shrug and don't care. But apparently someone's mom found out about me and now I'm "medically excused" from the swim days in PE, just because I don't want to wear a two-piece's top with my swim trunks or a girl's one-piece. I don't see why it's a big deal; Raymond King has bigger manboobs than I do, but do we see Mr. Carter telling him his chest jiggling is a distraction to the other boys? No, we do not. I bet it was Cecily Bennet getting her mom to complain; she got it into her head that me being trans is just a ploy to scope out the other guys' cocks in the shower, and since then, if anyone is throwing around transphobia, you can bet she's involved. There's not much I can do about it now, not without coming across as the bad guy, but I've got my eye on her. She's gonna step over a line sooner or later, I just know it.
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Jan 2, 2015 04:46
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Halloween Jack posted:1. Victoria, it sounds like you're the only one of the group who's accustomed to being fabulously rich and spoiled. But what do you miss about never having had a "normal" family? I guess you could say that. Not like any of my girls are hurting. None of them have trusts either. It'd be nice to have normal family, sometimes. Like, Karen has an older brother, and they fight, sure, but they're also super close. Gwen's mom and data are about the most super supportive parents I've ever seen. Come to all her school plays and track meets and games. It's not like cloying or anything, they just think she's great. And she is, don't get me wrong! I've had a string of caretakers and counselors and stuff, it's just never like family, I don't think. It might be nice to have a mom to talk to or a brother to scheme with. Halloween Jack posted:2. You had to come down on Amanda pretty hard a few weeks ago. I mean, she was really crying, but some things just aren't acceptable if she's going to hang with you. What did she do to offend you? She was a stupid bitch! I knew she was hooking up with Daryl Wilson - who wouldn't, I have! - I told her to get on the pill and she was all 'Ugh mom scandal scandal' so she didn't. I even gave her freaking condoms but nooooo, she still manages to get herself knocked up. So, Amanda was freaking the hell out and just freaking. I had to outright smack her before I got her to come to her senses. Finally dragged her down to the clinic and had to play fake big sister and all that and....ugh. Just stupid. Stupid and selfish.
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Jan 2, 2015 04:46
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(Sorry for not including this with the others; I just decided I didn't need to wait on a sheet.)thatbastardken posted:Daria Mooney, the Wyrm 2. You hoard treasure, but now so much wealth has been handed to you. What do you want at New Salem that Marcus couldn't buy for you?
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Jan 2, 2015 05:25
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MC posted:1. Luka, it sounds like you're very careful about covering your tracks. How do you deal with it when you get caught in something you can't deny? I have wished for them to wash me though, when this one kid, Peter, got a bloody nose just from fear and bled on me, then said he was gonna tell on me. One second I was literally had blood on my hands and a pissed off disciplinarian five seconds away, the next I'm spotless, and getting off scot-free. Or so I thought. Turns out Pete's in or knows some people in MS-13, who came around to beat the crap out of me after school one day. I was cornered, then one of the pulled a goddamn machete. All I thought was, take this guy out and run the gently caress away or I'm dead. I got hit right in the armpit, and tried to just trap the weapon and pummel the guy. Only, to everyone's surprise, I didn't get cut to hell. I didn't get cut at all. So one of them decides now that I've beaten up two of them it's time to draw his 9 and shoot me right in the collar. I know it hit me, it was the worst pain of my life. But just for a second. I touched it, and there was no wound. Not even a bruise. At that point they decided I was some kind of invincible Superfag and just took off. So now I have an illegal handgun a machete stashed somewhere safe. If those assholes come around for round two I'll make sure to return them one bullet at a time. The shadows, though, they want me to be more proactive. "Plant them on people you don't like," they tell me. No loving way. MC posted:2. Try as you might, not everybody hates your guts--in fact, someone was so drawn to you that it made it hard to get up to mischief. How did you meet, and how did you get rid of them? When I escalate like this, over nothing, most people back down. Only gangsters or really pissed off jock-types actually fight me. But Ruth is different, she just grabs my hair right back and says, "Tell 'em yourself, I'll drag you there kicking and screaming if I have to." OFM chuckles and chimes in, "Remind you of someone? Luka, find out how far she'll go. I bet she'll follow you anywhere." I know where that's going, and that I need to get rid of her real fast and for good. So I don't hit her or talk anymore, I just grab this nice necklace she always wears, rip it off, and chuck it far away. She starts trying to twist around and look for it while I break her grip. "Where'd you throw it?!" I shove her away, "Didn't see, don't care." It's fall, leaves are everywhere. She'll never find it. I'm not gonna go looking for it, even though I lied about not seeing the general area it fell. Anything that's mine the shadows think belongs to them too. So don't think I care about her or anything, it just wouldn't do me any good to go get it. Maybe some other jerk will find it and pawn it for crack money. Circle of life.
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Jan 2, 2015 05:55
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Halloween Jack posted:1. Matteau, it sounds like school life is the only life you know, even if you don't socialize much. What talents are you most proud of? I'm really good at taking tests--that is, real actual tests, not metaphorical lifelong tests. I listen really well to what the teacher says, and I take tons of notes. See?  ...Yes, these are my notes. Looking at the different pieces help me remember what the teacher said while I was drawing them. Considering how well I did last year, people seem surprised that I don't write down words. Words don't mean anything to me on paper. I have to hear the words to really understand them, and my mind hears the words when I look at my notes. Plus, I guess it prevents people from stealing my work. That tended to happen back when I was learning to write stories. Dumb stories. Pictures are better. Speaking of, I have a pretty decent comic book collection... I mean, here. It was like four times bigger back in Glen Allen, I think. I looked at all the art and even read a little of it. My idol is probably Hergé. The way he uses his colors, and the lines... And it helped me figure out some neat things about the world while still being fun. I want to see the world like Tintin and Snowy do. Someday, maybe. I'm pretty athletic too. I mean, people look at my hair and try to chase me down, so I worked out enough to outrun them. And I really like climbing. There's a rock-climbing gym in downtown Richmond that's perfect for that, but I hardly ever go there because, y'know, Richmond. Halloween Jack posted:2. Maybe most people don't remember you, but you remember the things they tell you. What's the best secret you've heard someone blurt out? Oh, I promised I'd never tell anyone. Uh, keep the secret secret, okay? You know Julie Kerouac, right? She's had four bad break-ups in the past year. I heard her crying in the locker room last spring, so I went in out of curiosity. She was sitting there in her underwear, trying not to make a lot of noise. She didn't notice me, of course, until I put my hand on her shoulder and she jerked away. She said sorry and started walking, so I asked her what happened. She denied anything, of course. She's too proud of herself to let anyone in, but we were in Social Studies together too, so she... almost knew me. "Torry," she said, "this does not leave this room." I wasn't going to correct her or anything. Just listened and watched. She went into her locker and pulled out a pamphlet... It was... She was... Her boyfriend (now ex), Louis Gabour, he and her, mostly her, they were having sex, and he thought she wasn't enjoying it as much as she should. He broke up with her, said she didn't love him, started calling her all sorts of stuff. Not all of it was off the mark, I figured out. She... well, she likes men, but she's not attracted to them. And she was trying to figure out why she couldn't be with a man by... I mean, if you're surrounded by something enough, I guess you tend to... but her mind was solely set on... Not a penis. And that was half of what she told me. The other half was in the pamphlet. Planned Parenthood. She was a couple months along with Louis' kid, or what would have been his. She went behind her parents' backs and had it... (gasp)(gasp) you know. Once she told me that, she just ran into my arms and sobbed on my shoulder. I patted her on the back--I mean, what else could I do? I don't think she even minded how sweaty I was. "We girls got to stick together," she told me. I, uh, let her be by herself for a while after that. I told the Soc teacher she'd be late, though, and she was. She probably had to shower again so she wouldn't reek. I didn't bother telling her anything about me. Honestly, it happens too much. My name, my age, my sex, it just all gets mixed up. It's not worth fighting anymore. I like to listen. Talking just gets in the way of that. Double May Care fucked around with this message at 06:06 on Jan 2, 2015 |
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Jan 2, 2015 06:04
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Halloween Jack posted:1. Daria, it sounds like if your remembered life is a fiction, it's a fictional that's useful to you. Which part do you desperately wish was real? Birthdays. To be surrounded by 'peers' feting you for a years accomplishments, giving gifts, singing praises? A tiny glimpse of the world I deserve. Oh, I remember them well enough, but they are hollow and meaningless because I know the truth of my past. I have decided to take the day I emerged from the caves as my actual birthday, and that anniversary is coming soon. I will have the staff at the house, my fellow wards, and such of the students at the school as are deserving join me, and there will be food and music and celebration. It will be glorious. Until then, all I have are memories that may as well be from a book or film. Halloween Jack posted:2. You hoard treasure, but now so much wealth has been handed to you. What do you want at New Salem that Marcus couldn't buy for you? There was a visiting professor to the school, a young expert in volcanology called Kayla Iacovino, who gave a lecture. I went along and listened, not just the first time but when she repeated it the next day, and then later I asked for and received a ticket to a dinner she was speaking at. Her passionate admiration for the power of the Earth and her clear, compelling speaking style mixed with the adventures she has been on in pursuit of knowledge made me a huge admirer. I guess I had a little crush on her as well, but mostly I just wanted her to continue talking and show her my collection and keep her forever. Marcus didn't have any power to retain her as she was only a guest of the school. I may have creeped her out a bit, stalked her a little, that sort of thing. She didn't seem to mind that I thought she was cool, but I guess inviting her round to meet Marcus was a step too far. I'll invite her to my party. Everyone likes parties. 
thatbastardken fucked around with this message at 08:03 on Jan 2, 2015 |
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Jan 2, 2015 06:30
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Halloween Jack posted:1. Zachary, it sounds like you're lucky that your parents did what they could to prepare you for life as a werewolf. What guidance did they give you that you're having a hard time doing without? Moral guidance. I mean, I do know the basics. But sometimes it's hard to know exactly what to do, especially after I lose my temper. My parents would always tell - or rather order - me to do what I could to fix things. So if I hurt someone, I would have to try and make it up to them if they were willing to accept. And I love the Moon, it's a great friend, but the problem is that it's always supportive. This sounds good but what I mean the Moon is fine with me using my gift however I please. If I had decided to get out of the situation with the police by wolfing out and ripping into everyone's throats the Moon would have given me a "Go get 'em, kiddo!" I still try and use what they taught me but somehow I just don't seem to be as good at it as when they would let me know exactly what I should say and do, and why. Halloween Jack posted:2. Lucky for you, you've only lost your temper at school once so far, but it wasn't pretty. What happened and what did you do? After I joined the New Salem School, Mort Owston decided he wanted to get in a fight with me for some reason. I don't know why either. Maybe he thought I was a threat somehow. He kept attempting to provoking me, but I tried to ignore it. It gots harder and harder to do so, and he started escalating his efforts. One day I'm talking with Velma Hobson, a friend in the drama club I made. Turns out Mort is in it too and thinks it would be hilarious to "accidentally" dump paint all over me. It's not a big deal, but after weeks of putting up with his crap I just lose it. We start fighting and I'm just unleashing all the anger I've kept pent up. We're smashing through the scenery people built, I'm grabbing whatever props lie around to try and hit him with, and I just lose myself in this rage. It isn't until later I realize he had at some point gone from fighting to trying to run away. By the time people are able to pull us apart the stage is a wreck, most of the material for the play is absolutely ruined, and Mort is lying down, grabbing his leg and screaming. Stupidly, I try and say right then and there that I'll help fix the damage but everyone just shouts at me to go away. So with one of the lead members wearing a cast and the rest having to redo just about everything, the play most likely isn't going to happen for a while longer - and everyone in school knows why.
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Jan 2, 2015 07:00
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Halloween Jack posted:1. Kara, it sounds like your parents were less concerned with raising you than preparing you--like a meal. Who do you look to when you don't know how to act? I don't know if you can really blame them for that. I mean, if you know you're going to have to do something like that, someday, you probably wouldn't want to get too close to your...to your child. It feels weird saying it that way but that's how it is. You're right that I pretty much got socialized by my peers, though. Uh, that's not my turn of phrase, that's Mr. Darrow who said that. He teaches fine arts. I think he's one of Mr. Young's relatives? Something like that. Anyway, I was out in front during my second week here, holding Renee Wolfe's head in the fountain and telling her to offer herself to the briny embrace of Rahab, and Mr. Darrow comes wandering up. I figured I was probably going to be expelled (I wasn't planning on drowning Renee all the way or anything but you and I both know that doesn't matter to these people) but all I got was detention in the art room. We got to talking, and he let me try a few things out, and well...apparently I'm not awful at painting. I was back in the next week, and the week after that - let's just get it out there, I go through a lot of detention. I get into probably more fights than I should, and things kind of write themselves from there. You know? So I end up doing a lot of painting. It's relaxing. Lets me get out some of the...I don't know. The hunger, I guess. Everything I paint comes out looking like some kind of acid nightmare but hey, it makes me feel better, I'm not complaining. Mr. Darrow says I'm not a bad person, just badly socialized. That the reason I'm 'a bully' (his word, again, not mine) is because I feel like there's something wrong with me that I've got to make up for. Which...is true-ish, but you try telling someone that the 'something wrong' is an evil spirit and see how far that gets you. Still, he keeps trying, and he treats me well - and not just me, everybody else too. He's a pretty cool guy. I decided to take art this semester. Maybe I can learn from him. It'd be nice to have a role model who isn't a demon prince from the emerald halls of lost Akkad. Speaking of which... quote:2. Hash-Ak-Reth has reared his head a few times, but one of your teachers just found it amusing. What did you do that had them doubled over with laughter? I have to start this story by explaining two things. One, Hash-Ak-Reth's big thing is terror. If you ask (which you shouldn't), he'll give you a thousand nicknames for himself revolving around fear and dread and blah blah, so it's probably not a surprise that I do a good bit of terrorizing here and there. I mean terrorizing. This is a demon we're talking about, he's less interested in jumping out and yelling 'boo' than, say, locking a claustrophobic inside that oak treasure-chest-looking box near the dining hall. (Sorry about that, Malik. Okay, not totally sorry, he was only in there for like four hours max before they got it unlocked.) The other thing is that he has absolutely no sense of self-awareness. A month before winter break, we had to do monologues for Mrs. Hughes in drama class, and I was going to do this thing from A Streetcar Named Desire, and instead Hash-Ak-Reth took over in front of the entire class and...I don't even know. He gave a...a speech, I guess, although it was really more like five straight minutes of shouting and making big sweeping gestures, and it kind of agitates me that after two years together he still doesn't realize that the kind of thing that works for a demon, presentation-wise, doesn't work for a fifteen-year-old girl. Somewhere around the part about 'gibbering terrified hosannas unto the master of dread', Mrs. Hughes started giggling, and that was like the dam breaking because then the entire class was laughing, and the more they laughed, the madder Hash-Ak-Reth got. Oh man. I could feel the veins bulging in my neck. Here's the thing: he sounds ridiculous and overwrought but he's a demon, an old one and mean as hell at that. Trust me, I know. And if he gets mad enough I'm one hundred percent positive he could do something, please excuse my language, incredibly hosed up. So I had to rein him in before things could explode, and thankfully it was pretty much right at a stopping point. Not that Mrs. Hughes would have noticed. She was literally crying from laughing. Oy. I got an A+ on the assignment. Mrs. Hughes wrote 'hilarious' and 'you have a real gift for comedy'. I think that's the only A+ I've ever gotten but Hash-Ak-Reth didn't even care; in fact I'm pretty sure he wanted me and everyone at New Salem dead for a while. I went out of my way to placate him after school was over - beat the crap out of Jackson Reis and made him kiss my boots in front of everybody on the quad - and he still wouldn't talk to me for like a week. Basically what I'm saying is, don't laugh at demons, even when they do comic book villain speeches. They tend to take it out on the corpses they're possessing.
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Jan 2, 2015 07:11
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Halloween Jack posted:1. Thea, it sounds like you've lived in seclusion most of your life, and you're most comfortable when you're alone. But what do you like most about being around hundreds of people your age for the first time? At first, going to school was a little overwhelming. Just walking down the hallway in between classes is like running an obstacle course sometimes, there's so many people and bags and books in the way. It's hard to hear anything over their voices, and you can get lost so easily... I didn't think I would ever like crowds, but that was before I went to my first ever pep rally. Please don't laugh! There were these games. We did the Wave, and then everyone sang "We will rock you" together and clapped and stomped and it was... the ENERGY in the gym... It felt like all of us were attuned to a single purpose, I'd never felt anything like it before. It was the first time I really felt like I was one of them, not just pretending to be. Things have been a lot easier since then. quote:2. You're hard on yourself, and you had a little freakout when you couldn't get something right in class--you're not used to having so many eyes on you. Now a couple of classmates are giving you a hard time about it. What happened? Oh no, this is so embarrassing. I told you I was home-schooled, right? Well, my mom is great and I am at my grade level in all the important subjects. Math, History, Science, Literature, I'm good at all of the basics right? But... but I'm not so good at the stuff we couldn't do at home. Like sports. Gym class has been a nightmare for me. I'm tall but... well Mother always said I was willowy but now I know it just means skinny. I'm good at running, so good that the gym teacher wants me to try out for track this year, but everything else I'm just terrible at. We were playing soccer on the field outside for class and I was playing defense because that's where they put the kids no one wants on their teams, and I messed up my kick and scored an own goal (that's when you score on your own team!) It was right at the end of the game and we lost because of it. I was so upset I started crying, and then everyone started laughing at me. I hoped that it would just go away but Sarah King and Rachel Miller haven't let anyone forget about it, and now they throw balls at me when the teacher isn't looking. I never get picked for teams now, because "Thea plays for the enemy team." I didn't mean to! I just... *sniff* mistaya fucked around with this message at 08:44 on Jan 2, 2015 |
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Jan 2, 2015 08:40
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Halloween Jack posted:1. Sam, it sounds like feeling like an outside filled you with anger, before you discovered your powers. Whether you can spend time in someone else's life or not, what do you do with that energy now? Somewhere in the foster system one of my "Dads" gave me some good advice that actually stuck with me. I'd lost my temper over some trivial bullshit that I can't remember now but afterwards he told me to take that rage and channel it into something creative. He said he channelled his into wood carving. I thought it was BS at first, I tried all sorts of things Woodcarving, (drat near chopped my fingers off), Acting you think I'd be good at that right but the characters are so... one dimensional compared to real people and the costumes feel like a joke. Writing (my stories are terrible.), painting (I was...passable. but I don't want to settle for passable.) Anyway I found it the end my passion, when I get angry at the world at all the idiots who live in it I like to lock myself away in the kitchen and cook. Somehow the act of measuring out the recipes mixing things and all that helps drain the anger away and I can feel a certain pride at the end when I produce this perfect casserole or that lasagne, I'm still not a fantastic cook my repertoire is pretty limited but I'm getting there and it's something for just me. Not whoever I'm being. Halloween Jack posted:2. You've had a little fun at New Salem, and haven't blown your cover yet. But what's that thing you do that would give you away, if they knew to look for it? See this is where it gets a little tricky to explain. But when I put on someone elses clothes I become them, I walk like them, I talk like them. But here's the key bit I don't think like they do. It's a mask, or a role I'm playing. Now I make mistakes when I'm being someone else. it's almost inevitable, no matter how well you think you know someone they have these hidden quirks stuff they only share with their nearest and dearest. Fortunately most people are dumb, they see what they want to see and don't actually pay attention to other people, for the others I'm usually quick enough to bluff. for example I was being Jill the other day and one of her friends found her/me drinking tea, I didn't know at the time but Jill only drinks coffee normally, so I had to spin a little story about how I wanted to try something new for a change then I had to fake spitting it out as if it wasn't very nice. But every so often I get a real curveball out of left field (ugh, I must be spending too much time being Kevin the baseball metaphors are leaking.) Anyway I was being Stevie and was on a date with his girl, I'd brought her some chocolates but it turns out she has a nut allergy how the hell was I supposed to know she'd never mentioned it before to me, but she threw the chocolates back in my/his face. How the hell do you respond to that? I froze, it must've only been 30 seconds or so but I needed to think, so in the end I did the only thing I could do I kissed her, that shut her up, then spent the rest of the night apologising for the chocolates. So I suppose that's my tell so to speak, I freeze under pressure need those pauses to think to get out of a sticky situation without anyone figuring who I really am. Ferrosol fucked around with this message at 10:26 on Jan 2, 2015 |
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Jan 2, 2015 10:22
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Halloween Jack posted:1. Alex, it sounds like you've already figured out how important it is to move on. What have you changed since you came back? I guess the biggest change is that I've been trying to stay positive about things. The radio is full of new songs, by bands I've never heard of, and I've been learning to play them on my guitar. I've been trying to stick to the happier ones, which I never did before. Mr. Young really gave me a second chance when he brought me here; a chance to start over and make a new life. .... Except it's not really a life, is it? I'm still dead. That doesn't seem fair. I've seen movies, I know how ghosts work. They have unfinished business, and when they finish it, they just go away. To wherever ghosts go. Is that really all I have to look forward to? quote:2. You almost got caught spying on someone. It's okay, I know it wasn't like that. But what were you trying to learn? Things sure have changed. ...I wish Janey could have seen it.
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Jan 2, 2015 10:22
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Halloween Jack posted:1. Cole, it sounds like you don't have much patience for other people's trivia because you've had such a hard life. What does it take for someone to make you forget the feeling that you're on the outside looking in? Heh, well that's certainly one way of putting that, ain't it? ...... It's the days when I can't tell just by their facial tics that they're lying. It's the days when I haven't seen the exact point when people will start stabbing others in the side when they're down and out. It's the days when I don't become painfully aware that I look just like the people saying all this hurtful bullshit in my timeline. It's the days when that timeline doesn't feel like the same thing that's played out in my lives a hundred times over. It's getting to know someone, and realizing that the someone you knew really was who they presented it to be. It's seeing people support others, not out of some favor grabbing or obligation, but because they genuinely gave a drat. It's being able to get your hands dirty, to work and take pride in it. It's being able to talk to someone and not feel like I have to bend them like a blade of grass. It's being able to sit down for lunch and be able to have a conversation about good things, things that don't remind us of just how rotten this world can be. It's being able to forget and do childlike things again. It's being able to hear me, and rather than turn into a wall, they look back at me and let me know that they understand. It's being able to do the same for them. It's when I know I can just...talk. When I'm not afraid of what they might say next. When everything isn't just another calculation. It's days when I don't have to stand up and remind someone just how flawed and vile and fake they really are, when no one else can or will. quote:2. Where do you go to feed? Ehhh...kind of a little bit of everywhere? I mean, it's not exactly the easiest thing for a teenager to go places where no one will ask questions. I can't exactly be all Anne Rice and ride in with a puffy shirt unbuttoned, or hang out in seedy bars where the willowy madams just keep mysteriously rolling in, offering up their necks on a silver platter, you know? So, I've had to graze. An occasional opportunity to get a few blood bags from a donation drive "misplaced" here, a fat guy who fell asleep at a park at night there, couple dangerously raw steaks to curb the cravings, you get used to it. You'd think it'd be easy, given I'm surrounded by a bunch of dumb teenagers, and believe me I've thought about hollering at some of the goths and seeing if they'd be down for it, but honestly the risk that comes with making GBS threads in your own backyard like that is just too much most times. So, when I get the...er, the thirst, I usually scope things out abroad. That's not to say there haven't been a couple places I find myself going to every now and again. The weirdest though is this new club named "Juice". Rather upfront and sleazy, eh? I used to be a busboy there back in the summer when it was just a dive bar and grill with no consideration for health or safety. Naturally Health and Safety cracked down on them shortly after I quit, and it got flipped and renovated into something that actually pays the bills. Thankfully for me, the layout hasn't changed all that much, and I got just enough swagger to take advantage of the fact that the security's bark is all it's got. Still, lately I've been noticing something strange. The owner, Jennifer Tong? She knows I come around sometimes. I dunno if she knows who I am exactly, but I keep seeing her up by the VIP lounge upstairs just...watching me. She hasn't done anything about it, she just watches like I'm some kind of rare bird or something. It's started freaking me out lately. For that matter, given some of the money I've seen thrown around sometimes, I gotta wonder why the security is so poo poo... I even used to go down to Richmond, hang out at some of the greasy diners there. Had a decent system even; wait for some vindictive rear end in a top hat to inevitably show up, watch them act like a dick, wait for them to head out, follow them, shout them down, shut them down, and then take what I can from them. But nowadays there's just too much heavy poo poo going down there for that sort of thing to be reasonable. I hate it if I have to "graze" on the homeless and such, you know; they've got enough problems as is, what the hell use is it to have my dumb rear end adding to them? Least then I only try and go for the fortunate people that happen to be sleeping at the time. At least the fangs don't seem painful enough to wake people up. (OOC: I hope it isn't too ridiculous. I wasn't sure what exactly to do with this.)
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Jan 2, 2015 11:05
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1. Jackie, it sounds like your family's death has focused your life into a sharp point. What do you still love to do that you did when you were a kid? Well, a while back, I saw some music video on YouTube. Christ, I can't even remember what it was, now. Anyway, I begged my parents for a guitar, and they got right into it in that annoying way parents can over-support you. You know what I mean? Lessons, talks about Band at school. In a year or two, it burned me out - I wasn't that cool girl in the music video anymore. So I stopped, and my guitar went up a few weeks later - with almost everything else. When I got to this place, I was walking around getting used to it, and sitting against the wall in one of the sitting rooms was this beat-up black case. Inside was this old-rear end, out-of-tune acoustic. For some reason, I picked it up and strummed it a little. I didn't want to rock the boat, and I figured it was some other kid's. So I hung around that dusty, dry room until nightfall. No one had claimed it, so I figured I'd borrow it. I've been making time to practice a little lately. 2. With your exercise regimen, you're in no danger of flunking gym. But some of your "training" attracted unwanted attention when you got in a little practice at school. What were you up to, and who noticed? So, right after I got here, I had to stake someplace out. I could only work out so much at the fancy house before people started asking questions I didn't feel like answering. At school, there's this old athletics shed. There's a new shed near the track with the hurdles and stuff in it - this one just has stuff that's broken or out of date or whatever. Long story short, I was inside making a pincushion out of those things the football players push when the door swings open and in comes Sean Kaufman and... some girl I can't remember, it's a different one every week or so for him anyway. They were giggling up a storm, and for a second, we just sort of looked at each other before they started to back away. He keeps giving me weird looks in the hallway, and I can't say I blame him. But who takes a girl to a dusty, sweat-stained garbage closet for a hook-up anyway?
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Jan 2, 2015 12:13
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Halloween Jack posted:1. Qadim, it sounds like the City of Brass was a place of incomparable beauty. But when you were thrown out, you had to live by your wits, as you put it. How did that change the way you see people? Two answers fit to your question, for what do you mean with 'people'? If one speaks of people as 'individuals', jinn or man, life as a vagrant and urchin has taught me dire lessons. When I was a prince, the common folk was as the audience for a performer. I demanded their full attention. Relished in it. Little did I care for their daily plights. When I I had been cast down among the throngs, I then evaded that attention. I valued food barely worth of the name that I would not have fed to dogs before higher than any of the finely crafted courses that were presented to me. And so too with kindness and attention. More care gave I to a gesture of charity, a kind word or even a single smile than any of the cheers and accolades I received as a prince. And those who are rich, those who have plenty, yet thirst for more still, as I once did? I feel a resentment there. Sometimes I think of whether I can ever return, even should my father forgive my transgression. Part of me will see the lavish plates and remember being hungry on the streets of Phoenix. Could I, who have supped under bridges and slept in parks return there? And is this change growth or corruption? Even here, in this place of luxury, the beggar feels disgust at the wastefulness of it all, even as the prince laments that it is not the same as home. Yet there is too the question of how I see mankind. We all know the story of Iblis. How he, the greatest of Jinn was commanded by God to kneel before mankind, who was judged by God to be greatest in creation. He refused, and was therefor cast out of the Garden, where he attempts to prove his case by seducing man to evil. Yet living on the street? It makes one wonder whether Iblis might be right? Whether this was perhaps a test of God? No, such talk is blasphemous, and I endanger my soul with it. Yet little superior have I seen in mankind that might explain why they are most beloved. 2: Ugh... a greater shame to cover up a smaller shame. To hide a sin of desire I committed a sin of... well... pornography? Let me explain. There is another youth in our class of fine build and visage. Richard Jackson. He is not the most clever, but his body is as a statue carved by the Greek masters. And I, at an unthinking moment drank in his body. A girl, plain and slovenly, called Monique Verstraten noticed. She confronted me, and threatened to tell everyone of it. I begged her not to, and offered a service. Much as it pains me to be at the mercy of a woman, I dared not risk my sinful desires revealed. The truth was she noticed me for her own eyes oft go to Richard Jackson. And what she wanted was... a picture of Richard Jackson in the showers. She explained me how to simply do it while pretending to send a message. I did, but made her promise to show the picture to none. She said it was fine, and it was for private consumption, then added a grin of such lascivious lust I was appalled. She then said I could keep the copy too, for 'long nights' To my shame, I briefly considered it. But no, I am not so debased. I deleted the picture of my phone, and now pretend as nothing happened. Except I can barely stand to look at fair Richard Jackson now, for guilt, usually lust's companion, has now driven lust out completely.
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Jan 2, 2015 13:12
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Thanks everyone for your submissions! I'm going to go ahead and cut off apps because we have so many good ones already. If you haven't answered your questions, please do so, because I'm going to make picks tomorrow at 12:00 noon EST.
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Jan 2, 2015 22:20
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| # ? Apr 28, 2024 17:17 |
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Also, FYI, we generally hang out in #stwendy on SynIRC.
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Jan 3, 2015 00:27
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