However, a brief draft of my CS is now complete. Alas, I fear my inspiration petered out a bit at the end, so some edits are due in the near future, but hopefully Roger is at least tolerable.
Birth Name:
Roger Alexandre Martin
Other Names:
Prefers to simply be called Roger, he has jokingly been called the "Bloodhound of Paris" by his former colleagues and a number of criminals, but it is a nom de guerre he neither relishes nor tolerates without complaint.
Gender:
Male
Age:
27
Rank/Titles/Social Class:
Monsieur Martin is of humble origins (lower class). However, he has an exemplary service record, having served a number of years as a detective with the French civil police force, the Sûreté Nationale. He left the bureau on cordial terms and as far as the French constabulary is concerned he remains an upstanding citizen.
Appearance:
Roger is decidedly average in height (6'1") and has a solid build; the result of life long pursuit of urban adventure. His skin is light, but touched by time spent in the sun, and Roger has a healthy vigor to his appearance. He has the sharp brown eyes of man always on the lookout for trouble and straight brown hair kept perennially short. He sports a well-kept mustache and meticulously trimmed beard, to ward off the cold of night according to his own claims. He walks with the grace of a man certain of his place in the world and confident in his own abilities to handle himself when things inevitably take a turn for the worse. Roger has a small collection of scars, chiefly on his hands and arms, courtesy of time spent in the field. His nose, although expertly set, has clearly been broken a number of times.
Roger wears a gray coat with covered buttons and matching waistcoat, dark trousers, short turnover shirt collar, and black bow tie. In regards to footwear, he favors a pair of sturdy leather boots. His practical outfit is completed by a well-worn bowler hat. Like many gentleman of the day Roger also carries a cane with him everywhere he goes, he see it as a proper gentleman's accessory, and more importantly it is a useful but discrete weapon. In addition to this, Roger does not venture far without the added security of carrying a loaded firearm on his person.
Personality:
Roger is a pragmatic and hardworking individual by nature. He is even-tempered, rarely allows his emotions to get the better of him. He is meticulous in his planning and deliberate in his actions. Exposure to some of the less noble aspects of humanity has left him a bit of a pessimist and he is notorious in the society for his dark sense of humor. A career spent sifting through the lies that people create to hide their crimes has also left him rather distrustful of other people. However, man is a social creature, and despite presenting a gruff exterior, Roger is agreeable and warm to those that show themselves worthy of his trust.
Far from a coward, Roger is willing to face danger when required, but he does not idly risk himself or others. If he has learned anything in life, it is the importance of adapting to the situation at hand and that more often than not actions speaks louder than words. Having long since parted ways with the Catholic Church and similar archaic institutions, Roger is concerned with results, rather than tradition or convention.
Psychic Talent:
Monsieur Martin's psychic talent is his remarkable ability to track the trace psychic impressions that a person leaves behind them. This 'aura trail' can however be muddled by the passage of too many people and like all things, it fades with time. Of note is the fact that Roger can also get a hint of the emotion a person was feeling and on rarer occasions still, he has been able to sense the motivations of the person he is tracking.
Roger has possessed this remarkable talent for as long as he can remember, but for most of his life he had simply convinced himself he was blessed with a remarkable understanding of how others think or act when trying to hide or flee.
Skills:
While Roger has the benefit of neither of a noble upbringing nor a lengthy education, his time spent in the service of the state has afforded him an adequate knowledge of the most commonly spoken tongues of Europe. His French is concise and to the point, his dialect very clearly the Parisian of the common man. He speaks English fluently but with a slight accent and he has gone to great pains to acquire a passable level of German fluency. At present, he has only the slightest grasp of Czech, enough to order a pint of beer or a bottle of wine and to get directions to the nearest washroom.
In regards to his professional talents, Roger is a decent enough carpenter and an exceedingly well-trained policeman. He has several years of successful police work to his name and brings with him a number of hard lessons learned patrolling some of the most crime ridden districts of Paris. Thanks to the unique methods employed by the Sûreté, he also has a particularly noteworthy amount of knowledge concerning undercover work and he has acquired a knack for blending into a crowd or disappearing into the urban milleau of any sizable city.
A man of many routines, Roger engages in a series of calisthenic and gymnastic exercises every morning. Although it is not the primary purpose of his early morning activities, these exercises have the added benefit of keeping the Frenchman in excellent shape.
Weapons/Fighting:
Roger is an excellent shot with most manner of firearms, but like any good policeman he views the use of lethal force only as an option of last resort. Furthermore, gunshots have a nasty habit of attracting unwanted attention, something neither Roger nor the society is particularly keen on attracting. Since joining the society, Roger has taken up the normally aristocratic sport of hunting and when not occupied with official business he enjoys spending time in the countryside pursuing all manner of game.
During his time with the Sûreté Nationale Roger was trained in the the techniques of Savate (a French martial art which uses both the hands and feet) and Canne d’Arme (stick-fighting). A practical rather than flashy fighter, he relies on efficient and often brutal techniques to dispatch an opponent. As an experienced police officer he is familiar with how to best subdue or even disarm a suspect, with the amount of harm inflected on said suspect determined by the level of resistance encountered.
A man used to venturing into the heart of crime ridden slums, Roger carries a revolver and a cane (weighted with lead on one end) with him at all times. While a proud Frenchman, Roger is a firm believer in stopping power and thus currently holds the .455 calibre Webley Mk. I as his revolver of choice.
History:
Roger Alexandre Martin born in Paris, in the Winter of 1863, to Monsieur Auguste Philippe Martin and Madame Marie Françoise Martin. The oldest of seven children, he was forced by necessity to grow up quickly. His father was a talented carpenter and his mother was a hard-working seamstress, however despite the dedication of his parents, the large family was often destitute. Roger grew up in the slums of Paris, spending most of his youth not far from the dilapidated neighborhood where he was born. The Paris he knows is one, whose streets were, and still are rampant with crime. However, despite his humble origins, Roger had a happy childhood. After all he had his loving parents, doting grandparents, cherished younger siblings, and a seemingly endless number of relatives around him.
He completed his primary education with only average grades, but was a voracious reader. Given the poverty of his family, he fortunately showed little interest in continuing his formal education and soon after his thirteenth birthday he secured a job in a furniture factory thanks to the help of his father. Showing much of the same talent as his father, Roger did well for himself, or well...about as well as a factory worker in 19th century France could do. However, with the passage of a several of years, he had grown weary of working long grueling hours for little pay and days spent hidden from the sun. Seeking a fresh start and inspired by the newspaper reports about the growing police force seeking to bring order to city of Paris, Roger joined the civil police force at the fledgling age of seventeen. Driven ever onwards by a desire to do some good and the hope of finding some much needed adventure.
He proved to be a quick learner and displayed an impressive aptitude in all things related to police work. Eventually, Roger even managed to secure a position as a detective in the Sûreté Nationale, the most illustrious bureau of the modern police force tasked solely with criminal investigations. Following the tried-and-true methods of the legendary bureau, he participated in an extensive amount of undercover work (especially for the era). Together with his colleagues he pursued all manner of thieves, cheats, con-artists, fraudsters, thugs, violent criminals, and murders. As a member of the bureau, he shared in numerous victories and far fewer defeats (that nonetheless left their marks). In the process, he also received a respectable number of battle wounds; a testament to the volatile nature of police work. He was particularly noted for possessing a remarkable talent for tracking down even the most elusive of suspects and bringing them to justice. Unwilling or unable to accept the talent he had borne with him for a lifetime, Roger simply attributed his success a strong instinct for police work.
A chance encounter with the paranormal resulted in loss of one fellow officer and the death of two civilians, forever shattering Roger's faith in the normalcy of life. Left in doubt and questioning all that he had once known, Roger did the only thing a detective can do when faced with doubt, he sought out the truth. Leaving his colleagues at the Sûreté Nationale, ventured out into the world in search of answers. In seeking these answer he eventually found his way to the Ianus Congreatio.
Satisfied with the honorable goals of the organization and convinced by the information they guarded he embarked on a decidedly different career. Since then, Roger has faithfully served the Ianus Congreatio.
Random:
Bullet format (for now): an avid pipe smoker, rarely seen without his favored pipe, a simple briar wood pipe, simplicity at first betrays the exquisite craftsmanship that went into the construction of the minimalist pipe. large half bent billiard shape, bent, black stem, light reddish wooden bowl carries a sizable amount of tobacco with him at all times stores his pipe and related items in a leather tobacco pouch, engraved with his name (R. A. Martin)
sorry yesterday was somewhat mini hell. Ill get to reviewing character sheets today.
@fillet Resistance is feudal. Well it is. Anyway...this story is ideal for people who do not have tons of free time because I don't either. So I expect it will move slower than many other of the guild's stories. Just saying.
I'm sorry I'm so late on my character! I spent a lot of my mental bandwidth "cracking" what I wanted to do with an IC post in my own thread, but you'll be hearing from me very soon. I'm not ignoring this one. :3
Coffee solves all ills, coffee with whiskey solves even more ills, whiskey with coffee solves any ills.
I'll try to edit my CS sometime around tomorrow, but alas my brain is currently filled with thoughts of Symbolic Logic and less concretely I'm a bit amazed at how much of a crazy genius Frege was.
Well my character is up. We are waiting on possibly two more players but regardless I'll have the IC up by Friday (that's the plan anyway). No one feel pressured to finish up a character in a rushed fashion; you can join in whenever you are ready. Also hope to have some background info up soon in the reserved spaces in the character tab.
Woo! Finished! --- Minor issues addressed, let me know if this is acceptable.
Birth Name: Johanna Roheisia Valerivicus Other Names: “Jo”
Gender: Female Age: 26
Rank/Titles/Social Class: Originally born into the merchant class by way of her parents, Johanna is now within close ranks to the middle-upper class ranks of society, by her own doing.
Appearance:
Johanna is tall, standing at 5’8, or at least for a woman. She weighs 130lbs, and every inch of her body is lean, taunt muscle. She often times wears simple, yet still rather fashionable clothes; she tends to stick to earth tones, when deciding what to wear, such as burnt umber, rusty orange, pine green, navy blue, etc. Johanna has a soft face with pointy cheek bones, and a small squarish chin. Her eyes are slightly tapered at the corners, giving her a more feline look than others, with bright silvery eyes to match. Her nose is gently sloped, with a rounded-tip, and plump lips that look like she is pouting when she frowns.
Personality: Johanna has always been headstrong, and rather defiant in her ways. She likes things to be do in a peculiar way, her way. She can be very unsettled if she finds/hears men making roguish comments about any woman. Johanna is what most would call, a feminist in today’s terminology. She believes women should receive equal pay in the work force, and that it should be acceptable for a woman to have an occupation, no matter her standing in life. Unless of course, she doesn’t have to work for it because her family is overly wealthy; then by all means, stay at home and sip tea from beautiful china saucers. Johanna has never loved anyone, sure she knows of love, and dreams about it, but the closest she has come to love, is keeping familiars.
Psychic Talent: Automatic Writing When Johanna was but a young child, her parents would find her facing the wall in her bedroom, writing hurriedly across the wall. They had to wallpaper her walls countless times, just to cover up her incoherent words etched into the wall. It started at the age of four, though it became more prevalent when she entered her teenage years; Johanna would fall into a trance, one where she would awaken from, and proclaim she knew nothing of what transpired. What she was seeing, were visions, turned into writing, her conscious mind was forced into writing what she was seeing. To this day, Johanna still experiences her spells of automatic writing, making her grow weary of what she is doing, where she is going, and whom she is with. Most of the time, Johanna can be easily awoken from her trance by just a shake of the shoulder. Yet, when traumatic events are occurring, especially ones she is writing about, Johanna becomes very tense, and agitated, often ending in raging screams should anyone disrupt her vision/writing process.
Skills: Tarot Reading (more of a hobby, and as a way to peer deeper into her visions, she does not do this for money.) Sewing/Embroidery Painting/Drawing Fencing Botany (consisting of knowledge of useful herbs, poisons, potions/elixirs/polutices/salves/tinctures, and gardening as well.) Speaks the following: Italian (Native), French (Fluent), English (Modest), German/Russian (Decent)
Weapons/Fighting: From Johanna’s insistence, her parents hired her a fencing tutor, she is quite skilled in fencing, and actually owns a French rapier, one obtained from her studies abroad.
History: Born into a wealthy merchant family, though still considered beneath aristocracy, Johanna Valerivicus was conceived by Albert and Susanna Valerivicus. Albert came from Italian ancestry, and Susanna was of French descent. Ever since Johanna was four, she would have spells, and fall into trances, one that would result in a jumble of chicken scratch writing scrolled across the walls in her bedroom. Her parents grew worried about her habit, and desperately tried to control it themselves. One day, when Johanna turned 7, she was found banging her head against the wall in her room, crying loudly. When her parents looked to see what troubled their daughter, they gazed in horror at the words etched into the wall. “Isabella. Isabella. Isabella. Isabella. Isabella Lorenzo. Isabella Lorenzo. Isabella Lorenzo. Isabella Lorenzo. Smoke all around. Burning. Burning. Burning. Smoke all around. Burning. Burning. Burning. Forever after. Burning. Flames. Flames are growing. Burning her. Burning her. Burning her alive. Can’t see. Can’t see. Can’t see. Crying. Crying. Crying. Crying. Crying for help! No one can hear. No one can hear. No one can help! Fire all around. She is dying. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.” The last word was repeated across the rest of the wall, and she was about to start onto the next wall when her parents entered the room. Isabella Lorenzo was a young girl that Johanna grew up with, they were both playmates as they lived across the street from one another, and she died in her house due to a blaze started by an oil-lamp being knocked over that spread out of control. Isabella, and her nursemaid were the only ones that perished in the blaze.
Ever since then, her parents believed that Johanna was indeed gifted, with a paranormal talent. Though they dared not try to exploit her out of fear or condemnation from the church. At the time, Johanna and her family lived in Florence, Italy. From there, they moved northward to Prague. At the time, and still true, to do the day, Prague was considered a destination for the artists, the thinkers, and a popular destination for the aristocrats. For her father, Albert, he wanted to move their family to Prague due to its vast trading district. As a merchant in Florence, he provided a decent life, yet the opportunities in Prague left him wanting for more. When Johanna had settled into her home life in Prague, she insisted on her father hiring a governess, along with a fencing instructor, as she put it, she needed to be taught how to defend herself. She could speak fluent French and Italian from her parents, her father’s trading business allowed her to learn English as well, but she had troubled understanding the local dialect, a rough combination of Slavic tongues, mainly German. Her governess, Greta, taught her how to speak German, and Russian. She became Johanna’s second mother, as her mother, Susanna became more distant to the young Johanna. When her mother became with child, this time providing a younger brother for her, Susanna passed away from consumption months after, leaving Johanna stricken with grief. As Johanna entered her early teen years, the death of her mother still hung heavily upon her mind, yet she put her mind at ease by focusing on her studies. She wanted to study everything, with such a young and impressionable mind, Albert could not say no to his beloved daughter. By the age of fifteen, Johanna had taken arithmetic, literature, and a particular liking to the study of plants. Her father fueled her love of the earth by purchasing a pleasant town-home with a small, arboretum. Here, Johanna continued her studies, mostly coming to understand the effects of plants, and which ones grew best in sunlight, or in the shade; which ones were poison, and ones that were better used in soups or teas. She had a particular touch for growing exotic flowers, especially changing the colour of roses.
Her brother, Reinold, was just a young toddler when Johanna left the home of her father in pursuit to open her own apothecary. Albert assisted her, making sure she chose a decent store front, close to where the upper-class citizens lived, by herself, at the age of 18, and the occasional aid of her father, Johanna provide care to the people of Prague through her apothecary. She made tinctures, poultices, potions, elixirs, all in truth were very beneficial to one’s health, and not a scam like others were doing with their elixirs of ‘eternal life’. She didn’t believe that bullcrap those scam artists fed the people, as the power of herbs could really help treat an ailment or provide the body with relief. Her fits had died down considerably of automatic writing at this point in time, yet when a young woman went missing in Prague, Johanna frothed at the mouth for days, writing incessantly, her eyes rolled back in her head, her face pallid and sweaty. Once she came too, Johanna discovered, after checking the newspaper, which a young woman, close to her in age, had drowned under mysterious circumstances; she chose to lead a more secretive life, and made her apothecary, appointment-only. Times were hard as she was forced to close her shop, Johanna had dwindling customers once the whispers of doctors came about.
Only a month ago, Johanna received a well written letter, inviting her to visit a manor on the edge of Prague, settled deep within the thickets of the woods. She knew of the place, House Ianus, by rumors alone. The letter addressed to her said: Dear Madam Valerivicus, I cordially invite you to explore the grounds of House Ianus, as I believe, and I know that you are well aware of, a particular talent you hold. I have come to understand your financial situation upon closure of your apothecary, and I would like for you to visit. If you intend to do so, please return a letter to me saying that you will visit. Also, please notify me of the day you wish to visit, so that I may be prepared for your arrival. Sincerely, Adam W.
After receiving the letter, Johanna considered it for a week, weighing in her mind, the truth of the letter, and what the writer meant by her ‘talent’. She feared that he knew supposedly of her habit, and once deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to see what the fellow wanted, she wrote in return. House Ianus proved to be a gorgeous manor tucked away in the forest just outside of Prague. When she arrived at the manor, Johanna was greeted by a manservant and taken inside. And once inside, she met Adam, the author of the letter. They spoke for hours on end about the reason of the letter, and what he meant in terms of her ‘talent’. Once he explained what the purpose of inviting her to the manor, she accepted his invitation to come and stay at House Ianus, and carry on her research with her plants, and to keep an eye on her talent, lest she begin to bang her head against the wall and foam at the mouth again. He also explained that if she would like, she could investigate paranormal mysteries as well. Johanna didn’t think she would, but agreed that if anything piqued her interest, she would happily engage in it. Johanna moved in a week later, explaining to her father that she had discovered a learning opportunity at a school on the edge of town, where she would pursue her studies in botany further. He rejoiced at the idea that she would have a place to stay, and continue her passions, Albert asked no further questions about the manor or what she would be doing, as he trusted his daughter to make sensible decisions. She has been at the house for less than a month, but she has become well acquainted with the grounds and gardens, preferring to spend her time there, harvesting herbs and flowers, tending and weeding to her plants like beloved children.
Random: Johanna loves plants, her favourite ones are: chamomile, lavender, thyme, roses and poppy flowers. She can make a mean cup of tea! Don’t expect her to drink any type of English tea though. Johanna owns a French rapier, a gift from her mother before her passing, she has made it into a cane sword, with a raven’s head for the cane handle.
O...kay. I think I've figured out the character I want to write. Her concept is ridiculous, bordering on preposterous - but I think I can make her work. If nothing else, I'll make myself grin while I put the idea together, and that's never wasted time. :3
I'm afraid there won't be any magnificent hats or red cloaks - but there might be a certain literary flair. Oh my god, I can't believe I'm writing this.
I am so sorry. I tested out this weird thing called sleep and it worked so well I forgot to wake up and finish. I highly recommend this strange phenomenon by the way. Anyway when I feed everyone here I will get back to posting.
I have a strange relationship with sleep, I do of course love sleeping, but it bothers me that we still haven't figured out why exactly we have to sleep (there are some interesting hypothesis, but so far the question remains as far as I am aware).
Yes the matter still pends. There are lots of bits of information on the subject however. As an insomniac I take the sleep when it comes and don't look back.
Post started to get very long so I chopped it in half. This affords everyone an introductory post if they should so wish; elsewise I will continue the post after another day or so (Monday whenever that is).
@kittyluna45 I will PM you directly with further information regarding the letter Adam sends you.
The rest of you feel free to introduce yourselves and join Adam, or not, as you see fit.
Forgot to add; this is a story written by all of us. If you wish to throw your own flair (no not bits of flair from flingers) into it at any point, I can roll with almost anything. Keep the theme dark, paranormal, and macabre enough and it will blend right in.
