Three decades ago, London was stolen by bats. Dragged deep into the earth by the Echo Bazaar. The sun is gone. All we have is the gas-light of Mr Fires. But Londoners can get used to anything. And it's quiet down here with the devils and the darkness and the mushroom wine. Peaceful.

Or so it would appear at a first glance anyway. It might not exactly be the case, not after that masquerade.

---

Welcome, delicious friends! Welcome to London! Of course, it is rather sunless here after the fall, but it is definitely less rainy just as well! The fall happened on the year of 1862 when the sovereign of England (her enduring majesty or the traitor empress, depending on who you ask from) sold the city to a group of cloaked figures speaking in shrill and high-pitched voices, but that isn't exactly relevant any more. It is the year 1896 now, so all that is well in the past!

T'is a tricky place this Neath, not the most ordinary of locales. Death is not exactly permanent any longer (though there are exceptions to the rule, of course), there is little to no weather, sunlight has to be brought in from the surface in mirror boxes and even then it starts killing you... but if we do our best to ignore the fact that London is surrounded by this place, we might almost believe nothing had changed. Well, other than the street/locale names. And the devils. And those things with faces of squid. Okay, I'll admit, that might be a stretch.


What concerns us the most would be where we start from. The masquerade ball. But you have to realise, this was a rather specific gathering. Not just everyone was invited. And the Masters who would turn out to be behind it proved to have looked for distinctively different sort of people when the invitations were being sent out. Standing out from the masses, but not as much as to appear in page sized letters in Slowcake's Exceptionals, was apparently a boon. And much like the group of people the job offer, too, was quite a special case. (What I am saying is that I may not be able to take everyone who has expressed interest in. Try not to duplicate roles, or you'll end up competing with one another!)

But just who were those people invited? Well, that is quite the question! It would be for the better for those people to introduce themselves! We at the Unboxed Cat magazine interviewed each of them, though some imposters may have also slipped in. In any of those unfortunate cases, we apologise!

Name: Should be self explanatory
Title: Sir/Lord/Madam/Lady/Doctor/Professor/Sergeant/Lieutenant/Bishop/erm, yes. Something along those lines.
Moniker: A nickname usually in the for of Adjective+Noun people might refer to you with. Examples include "Repentant Forger", "Malodorous Pirate", "Honey-sipping Heiress" and "Dark-Spectacled Admiral".
Age: Remember when London fell, so if you want a Neath born...
Race: Most of you are undoubtedly human, though a Clay Man or a Tomb Colonist of particular status could have made it in. Or a Drownie. Anything else would need to be just spectacularly convincing. If any non-human options sound unfamiliar, I recommend sticking to humans.
Appearance: Of course, the looks of a person are not the most important thing out there. But that has a tendency to be what people first see of you. Pictures and/or a description are just dandy.
Primary Attribute: The attribute you rely most on.
Secondary attribute: The attribute you rely second most on.
Connections: Everyone is bound to have a few of these. What factions are you closest to?
Background: Now keep it brief-ish, this is a newspaper, not a novel!


Speaking of convenient matters, in case you want to read more on the relatively spoiler free lore, catch! https://www.reddit.com/r/fallenlondon/comments/5a22or/a_spoilerlight_lore_guide_to_fallen_london/ A fair bit of the text here has been shamelessly stolen from said guide too, but some sections are of my own digital penmanship. You can probably tell which is which.

Anywho, I believe that is about it! Any questions should be voiced and I in fact encourage it! Somebody else is bound to be thinking about that same question, so getting the answers out in public is only a good thing to all!
@Lady Selune@Gordian Nought@EchoicChamber@ihinka@Keksalot@VitoftheVoid@rush99999@Ms Ravenwinter

Ladies and gentlemen! We are deeply sorry to have committed such a blunder here on our part, but luckily the chief editor noted it before anything went too far! Our idea for the new story was missing the section to cover the appearance of the interviewees altogether! We have sent out our photographer Lyme and our ever reliable Sharp-Eyed Reporter to fix the matter for us! Naturally you would not want a fellow Londoner to miss who we are talking about, not when You have had the chance to enter an event as prestigious as this!

(I may have initially forgotten the Appearance part of the character sheet. It is there now.)

Ah, and you oh enchanting mademoiselle Renee Bellerose, we will have our additional reporters at your door post haste! Surely the missing appearance problem can be recovered from swiftly and efficiently, yes? And we cannot help but assume this Lady Monica you mention is another of the partygoers, no?

(From now on, I will save any interaction with the Unboxed Cat reporters for IC, for I believe this confusing joke may have ran on long enough. @Lady Selune, please include the recently added appearance section for your character. As for Lady Monica, that might well be my character, once I find the time and Guild wants to play along.)

You guys open for newcomers? I may be interested in coming up with a sheet if that is the case.

@Hekazu

Hello! Delicious friends~

I'm en route to bed; just popped on because I heard guild was back up. But I intend to read every word of this. I have several FL chars -- and several FL friends I might draft, if the cause is a good one. <3

@Lady Selune Ooh, I didn't know you did FL! *wriggles*

I lied, I read it now. <.< What's the premise of the rp, and are you accepting others? I have five different characters I've brought into FL, only one of which has reached any sort of exceptional status (and Alys isn't interested in being exceptional anymore...or won't be, depending on where in time you meet her). Well. Nikki and her Flit-bound Velocipede are a bit famous, but more in a "wow that lass is in need of a stay at the Beth" kind of a way? Shy is...uh. Not human, and not even native to Earth. ...It's complicated and may involve Parabola, if not alternate dimensions. And Doc is...he's just unfortunate, is what he is.

Aside from them, I have a wide range of people that might be tugged into the setting, and perhaps a few newcomers I could develop.

Also one highly improbable feline that I've been wanting to play again, and FL seems the perfect place for him to make another appearance, if only as a minor character.

So yeah, is there a chance of playing, what's the rp premise, and just how different do all the characters need to be from each other?

@Templar Knight@shylarah
As things are, newcomers are welcome to submit a character sheet bust like anyone else. I am not able to promise that everyone would make it in in the end, but the chances are better if a sheet is submitted than if not!

As for the premise, I cannot spoil much of the story ahead, for the very idea is that you need to figure out how this all ties together. But it does involve the Masters of the Bazaar sending you after somebody.

As for how different people need be, it depends on the eventual amount of characters submitted. A fair tip would be to avoid combinations of Persuasive>Dangerous (my character which I'll set up today), Shadowy>Persuasive and Shadowy>Watchful since that will easily cause an expertise clash. Personalities can vary vastly, naturally.

@shylarah

I don’t really, but it caught my eye. Hopefully an eye that will remain.

Name: Monica Wellington-Smythe
Title: Lady
Moniker: The Parasol-toting Poet
Age: 34
Race: Human
Appearance:

Well, it is an old picture. These days Lady Monica is a fair bit more muscular and her hair is somewhat less strikingly red. Both are changes not everyone would approve of: What need does a proper lady have for muscle ruining her slender frame and why would they allow their hair to be dimmed so? Do not let her know we added this part here, however. One important thing of note is that you'll never see her without a parasol (indoors) or an umbrella (outdoors). Except perhaps in her own room.

Primary Attribute: Persuasive
Secondary Attribute: Dangerous
Connections:

• The Masters - It is only natural for a Londoner to look up to the Masters, the true wielders of power in the Neath. They have graciously given us relative autonomy, and we do owe them for that. Were I asked to, I would not hesitate to stand by their side, no matter the cause.
• Bohemians - I am one of the poets within the court of her enduring majesty. What do you think I think of my fellow artists? Those of the Celestial tradition make me wonder about their sanity at times though... we have everything we could ever need right here.
• Constables - The guardians of law and order, the hand of the Echo Bazaar and its Masters. It is the ministry of public decency I despise, but other than that they are fine men and women.
• Criminals - I have a connection to the underworld and I need no more. For all I care, they can rot in New Newgate.
• Hell - They have some interesting forms of art, and I've heard an abstraction may well help one understand the Neath better. I am not too sure if I should trust in their word though. I would be ignorant if I did not know of their connection to Mr. Slowcake though...
• Revolutionaries - I may have mentioned rotting in New Newgate a moment ago, no?
• Rubbery Men - Ew, keep them away from me.
• Society - Now we are talking. I've many friends within the society, as is expected of one residing within the Shuttered Palace. My own entry in the Slowcake's Exceptionals could be more robust, but I nonetheless do have one. That is bound to change however, trust me on that.
• Church - I assume they mean well. I do not really know what they have done for London however.
• Docks - I do not really visit Wolfstack, ever.
• The Great Game - To say I would not have anything to do with the Game would be a lie. To say that what I do would be of little consequence would also be a lie. The game can be played for many sorts of folk or perhaps even just for the game itself. I know where my allegiances lie, as do those who do work with me. Call me a player and leave it at that.
• Tomb Colonies - I know the place. I've even visited it once or twice, maybe even thrice? Tough to tell at this point, such a dull locale. But hospitable, make no mistake. They are good people, if a bit stiff.
• Urchins - Ugh, they better keep their grubby mittens off me or I do not take responsibility of the swinging arc of my umbrella.
• Black Ribbon Society - Hm? Oh, these? Yes, I am a member. There is no sport quite as exhilarating.

Background: Technically speaking, Lady Monica (as she prefers to be called) was born on the surface. But that was pretty much it. After but three weeks, London was already below ground. One does not really have memories from such a young age, though she could swear she has seen the real sun and that no poetry can ever compare to its glory and thus whatever Celestials try for is but a sham. Especially the Neath born of the sort. She, in turn, has embraced the new environment to its fullest and despite her loyalty to the spires and Masters of the Bazaar, adopted the style of Nocturnal poetry. And, well, while it is not quite on the Mycologenes level of immodesty, she is not the greatest fan of the Ministry of Public Decency and nor are they a fan of hers. The less racy ones of her works are usually well received by her enduring majesty. You just need to get her to pen one like that first.

When she is not earning her keep (or heading straight for another exile) in the confines of the Shuttered Palace, Lady Monica is most often seen in the establishments of Veilgarden or occasionally a figure with quite a similar appearance might be spotted in Wilmot's End. The Game is played and will be played, though the place is also her chosen duelling ground if given the opportunity to pick. Apart from these places, she is occasionally spotted visiting the Bazaar on business. The only currency she really trusts is, after all, Echoes and pennies. She is often seen in the company of one Renee Bellerose, though the reasons why are unknown to the public.

@Ms Ravenwinter
And, before I forget to mention it in public as well, Latchkey looks good to go!

@Hekazu hmm. It's a tad hard to figure out who'd be a good fit if I don't have anything on the starting scenario. A masquerade ball, I thin was mentioned?

Looks like most of mine will have no trouble at all avoiding doubling. Alys is watchful/dangerous, Max is Persuasive/watchful (though mostly just kind), shy is dangerous/ watchful, and Angie is dangerous/shadowy.

I'm leaning toward shy, actually, but she's not even from the same universe, and I'd likely need to discuss specifics with you at length.

OE I could just play Schroedinger, the improbable feline. He's been nipping at me to let him out for a while now, and I don't think there's a better place for him than FL. He's shadowy/watchful, or maybe watchful/shadowy, but I doubt there'd be much overlap with anyone else, given that he is a cat.

@shylarah
The RP will begin with all the characters gathered in a masquerade ball, yes. An event where many an unusual person has been invited. If you believe you have any concepts you would need to discuss beforehand thanks to them not fitting into the Fallen London as is, you are free to ask any questions you may have!

As for Schrödinger being a feline with secrets and all, that currently reminds me of this feller.

Anyway, cats might be difficult to fit along with the rest, I'll admit. But if you would like to try, well, you are most certainly welcome to make a sheet for them and we'll see where it goes.

Name: Gideon Zanhast

Title: Captain

Moniker: The Ruinous Captain

Age: 38

Race: Human

Appearance:

Not a particularly flattering artist's depiction of the Ruinous Captain, but not necessarily one he'd disapprove of either.

Primary Attribute: Dangerous

Secondary Attribute: Shadowy

Connections:
-The Masters: Worthy Patrons and business partners, though most of my business with them is, or was, with Mr. Fires, and Mr. Irons. Have run odd jobs that likely benefited some of the others' schemes, knowing The Masters, but I wouldn't say I KNOW many of the others.
-Bohemians: Bunch of arrogant and pompous artists who've hardly worked a day of real work in their lives. Leave them to their poetry, plays, and paintings.
-Constables: They know me, whether I was on a Master's payroll or not they'd always look to come sniffing in my business. Sometimes we're able to reach a "mutual understanding", other times its a bit rougher. Now's one of those times with their Ministry of Public Decency.
-Criminals: The Cheery Man and his boys are old running mates and we get along famously, and all respect is given to the Gracious Widow. The Topsy King can join the Drownies for all I care.
-Hell: Half of the source of my moniker and a couple of my current working partnerships. The Urbane Devil and his Embassy pay a fine price for souls, and those willing to smuggle them in and out of London. Even visited the Iron Republic a few times, one of the strangest places in all the Neath, and like as not to drive a man mad, but exhilarating nonetheless.
-Revolutionaries: Foolish dreamers with dynamite, led by arrogant fools who name themselves after the months. But if they pay nicely, I wouldn't turn them down. Just don't expect to see me waving their banners out of faith.
-Rubbery Men: Seen a few in my time, always got along well enough with them. Stranger things than men with Octopi for heads.
-(High) Society: In their eyes, I wouldn't be fit to clean their boots, now. So unless one wants something exceptionally dirty done, they'd not see me, and certainly not in their Sunday best.
-Church: Bunch of old men and cloistered women in rags who don't know the true Gods that rule here, Salt, Stone, and Storm are the only Gods I know. And my associates in the Embassy don't really lend myself well to men of God, they're as like to curse me as a Sinner as I'm to knock them in the street for peddling their false religion.
-Docks: Wolfstack's my home, and always will be. More real of a place as you'll ever find in the Neath, the perfect place to find a bunch of lads either fearless or foolhardy enough to take on the Zee, and the same place to help one forget or fondly remember everything you see out there. Though the more respectable captains turn away when I come, all zailors know me by reputation, with equal parts respect and fear to my name.
-The Great Game: I know I'm a Pawn, and I don't rightly care. Let the Players play their game, I'll serve whoever gives me the best offer.
-The Tomb Colonies: Decent folk, regularly delivered many to Venderbight in my time. Many possess more wisdom than most of High Society in London, and its a good thing our Mayor's one of them.
-Urchins: They know not to touch me, lest they risk it be their last purse they try to grab with that hand. Not that I'm heartless, but more so that even I respect money earned rather than stolen or inherited. They stay out of my way, and I don't get in theirs.

Background:

A Zailor of London, Gideon escaped down into the Neath from a past he'd rather forget when he was 24. A physically capable and daring man, he took work aboard a ship named The "Victoria", while being named after her Imperial Majesty it was hardly so majestic, merely a cutter with faded hints of glory, but he took a bunk aboard and for years earned wages as zailor. Seeing both wonders and horrors in the Unterzee, coming face to face with death and madness around him on several occasions. One of which changed his fortunes for the better, though it was a harrowing process.

He had ascended to First Mate by this time at the age of 32, and it had been a long voyage out to the Carnelian Coast to then take a turn to the Isle of Cats when the ship was set upon by Rat-Barges out of Ratsey, pouring out of a bank of fog as cover. The small flotilla of resourceful rodents battered the Victoria with fire, with the Zailors exchanging salvos and ultimately winning the fight, but the ship being in bad shape, and and a quarter of the crew dead or dying from shrapnel and wounds, the Captain had been thrown clear from the ship, and no cries had rang out, leading Gideon and the remaining crew to believe him dead in the water. Half of the remaining men descended into panic, being out in the middle of the open Zee with no captain, a wounded vessel, and dead and dying men aboard. But Gideon stood firm, and after dispensing with one of the more panic-struck zailors by shooting the man dead and therefore stilling any more dissenters, he forced the remaining crew to their posts, and set about steering a safe way home.

By the time the ship arrived in Wolfstack Docks, the crew were a sullen and silent bunch, but many were alive, and gave curt thanks to Gideon for taking command and control of the situation. Now they could drown their fears in the pubs and relive them in nightmares, Gideon was left to his own affairs, and with nobody to contest his position, Gideon assumed ownership of the Victoria. Though the vessel was not worth his time to repair, he sold the ship and its parts in exchange for a new vessel, putting in a good chunk of his own savings he'd made over the years into a new Corvette, which he named "Jackdaw". For the last 6 years he's zailed the Unterzee, his dour countenance making as many friends as enemies, and made his name known for taking less than savory business offers for the right price, no questions asked and with more subtlety than the average brute. His reputation as a Captain is one of brutal fairness, you'd work to earn every echo you got, and obey his commands, but you'd hardly find a more honest Captain. Some say the Zee made as much a monster out of him as any that lurked beneath the waves, but he'd say that such moral busy-bodies would never be successful Zee-Captains, much less Zailors. The Zee is a unforgiving mistress, and one cannot be weak if they're to actually make a living on it.

Though in recent months, the Ruinous Captain has been stuck ashore, the Ministry of Public Decency taking an abnormally long time to investigate him on another trumped up case, and having impounded The Jackdaw, he's currently unable to return to the Zee. He's busied himself with odd-jobs around London, and was thus surprised to find an invitation to a particularly unusual Masquerade Ball. Normally he'd not even bother with such affairs, but the Masquerade did not seem to be the usual High Society affair, and the potential offer of a job tempted him to at least give it an ear.

@Templar Knight
Seems fitting to me. Quite the choice of moniker though, wonder how he stays in business with the "bringer of ruin" in his nickname... Well, he evidently doe so it is none of my business.

---

Name: Benjamin Obadiah Babbage
Title: Professor
Moniker: Inquisitive Researcher
Age: 32
Race: Human

Appearance:

Professor Benjamin Babbage is as stuffy as his name would imply. Of average height, the professor doesn’t cut a striking silhouette among his peers and colleagues. He does sport a rather dashing mustache that is tended to with the utmost care and consideration. His black hair is a bit shaggy but above the collar, parted on the side and paired with short sideburns—a bit of a departure from what is considered stylish, but, as many speculate, is due to the considerable effort he puts into his mustache. He might be silvering on the sides, rather young for it actually, but the temples of his glasses and tendency for hats makes it hard to tell. The professor has dim gray eyes and a noble nose, meaning that it’s a prominent feature on his face.

He dresses well, and while it is mostly utilitarian he does enjoy his odd splashes of color. Usually, he adorns himself in a black or gray sack coat, top button fastened while a bright waistcoat—complete with a pocket watch—shows itself. And this choice might come from years of scholarly endeavors where he sat more than he walked. Those choices showing themselves in the roundness of his middle. Though the professor had taken to sports at a younger age, so he’s not entirely without musculature—so says the professor, but we've seen him, and he's failry rotund. From there, his outfit doesn’t take any more consideration to be unique.

The professor enjoys standing with his feet apart and his lips set in an inquisitive twist. He usually is touching whatever he’s researching. But when his hands are by his person, they cross over his broad chest, gently stroke his mustache, or fiddle with his spectacles. In social situations, he talks with his hands if he’s enjoying himself, and if he’s not, he places them on his hips. He has very telling body language.

Primary Attribute: Watchful
Secondary Attribute: Persuasive

Connections:
The Masters: “I wouldn’t be a scholar if I didn’t exhaust all my possible resources, and the Masters are a rare and grand one. I don’t overstay my welcome, neither do I prod where one does not need prodding. But I have spoken in long berths with Mr. Wine and Mr. Pages.”
Bohemians: “They think of themselves as the forward innovators of our time when they’re actually petulant children living off the money of their parents.” He adjusts his bowtie. “Do not give me that look, I’m not being hypocritical. I’ve established my own income, and I’ve actually contributed to society.”
Constables: “If you ask me, they could do a better job of keeping the urchins from swarming me like the dirty pestilence they are. But I have no qualm with them.”
Criminals: “I am a man of importance and intellect. I gather my information from reputable sources.”
Hell: “I may have gotten drunk a few times and gladly tittered along with them, but I don’t deal much with Devils. I like my soul where it is.” He pauses and strokes his mustache. “Wherever that is.”
Revolutionaries: “A group of unorganized heathen gyrating in agonizing ineptitude. The Masters are an infinite fount of information. Would you so readily scrape away knowledge and wisdom?”
Rubbery Men: Benjamin considers it for a moment but doesn’t say anything. When asked about it again, he shrugs. “I have no quarrel with them. Though, from a scholar’s standpoint, I have so many questions. Unfortunately, they don’t have the means to answer.”
High Society: “I was born into low nobility. While I tend just fine in Society, High Society is not somewhere I shine from a noble’s standpoint. Though, I have been called to many intellectual parlors to discuss the Fourth City as a professor.” He looks proud and gives a sly smirk.
Church: “My eldest brother is a clergyman, and I attend regular service.” Benjamin looks like he has something else to say about the subject, but he remains quiet.
Docks: “I’ve taken a few trips across the zee for research purposes. That being said, I do not have a jovial rapport with the docks men and zailors.”
The Great Game: “I do not participate or have interest in the Great Game. But I’m not so daft as to not know that I’ve not been silently maneuvered within it.”
Tomb Colonies: Benjamin leans back, apparently having many a tale to regale about them. Unfortunately, he’s been asked to condense it. “I’ve used them as many a source in my research. They’re wise, intelligent, and a great resource. I respect them, and I don’t quite understand the vitriol set against them. Then again, if we based our interest and fondness upon appearances, I’m afraid we’d be led by daft lunatics.”
Urchins: “They’ve stolen my pocket watch five times. Jokes on them, after the second one was fenced, I’ve only purchased ones that are barely worth a penny.”

Background:
Benjamin Babbage was a child born with an unfortunate alliteration, that polite society nodded and accepted, and everyone else—with a thinking head on their shoulders—snorted at. He was born into nobility, but nothing of note. His family the social equivalent of that cousin you know nothing about, and so you buy gloves for them on their birthday. So, as such, his family does not just get by on being noble, they have careers and positions within society. Though, these positions are ones of clout. Many of the Babbages have taken to be clergymen. Benjamin’s eldest brother among them. Benjamin, on the other hand, was gifted with a great and grand need to be smarter than everyone else.

As such his fascination for the Fourth City, and not moving for long periods of time, bloomed at a young age, leading him to attend University—Summerset College of course, as he is not learning alongside upstarts and radicals. He’s participated in numerous archeological digs, but only ever funded three as his pockets are not infinite and sometimes half full of candies. From that he produced fine literature about the architecture and layout of the city, and from conversations with Tomb Colonists and zailors that have seen Khanate, he also wrote of their culture. Those immense books, possibly too dense to be door stops as one would never get their door closed again, never brought up anything groundbreaking but they did become a resource for many researchers to cite. And if one stacked the volumes up chronologically, they’d have a nice footrest. Though, the one thing they do offer is intricate drawings of places, things, and people. Benjamin, in another life, would have made quite the artist. In this one, he’s a stuffy intellectual that teaches and sometimes gets charcoal on his favorite white waistcoat.

As someone who usually tosses letters for various noble galas, Benjamin paused at one. He opened it up only to discover he’d been invited to a masquerade ball. With his parents leaning on him harder for marriage, as his brother wasn’t about to take up a wife and a family name, he accepted. Anything to get them be silent. Knowledge was his only lover, a thought he had in quiet and chuckled about.

---

@Sofaking Fancy Oooo, this one. I like this one. Can we keep him, Hek? Pretty please?

@Ms Ravenwinter
They seem fine to me, so...
@Sofaking Fancy
Approval given. We are starting to look somewhat ready to start, but I would like to give those who expressed their interest in the check the chance to pop in and make a character or say they are bowing out. I think giving them time until... Thursday should be good. Yeah, Thursday. At that point I'll build the final roster and start this thing proper.

@Lady Selune
I believe I may be at fault here for not communicating it clearly, but given how I have yet to actually pick the final roster moving on to the characters tab may have been a bit premature.

Well, no real harm done. Just something that should be considered now that I've actually said it instead of assuming. Again, my bad.

@Hekazu *Whistles inconspicuously*