[OOC] Changelings Anonymous

[Sisyphus]

Changelings Anonymous

A Game of Madness, Beauty, and Finding Your Way Home

_{"Up the airy mountain / Down the rushy glen / We dare not go a-hunting / For fear of little men."— The Fairies, William Allingham}

---

Hello, and welcome to Changelings Anonymous, an RP based on the game Changeling: The Lost by White Wolf, creators of Vampire: The Masquerade and all that other good stuff. Don't worry if you've never played it or even heard of it before; I'll tell you everything you need to know below. Changeling is a game about fairy tales, but it is by no means pleasant or child friendly - expect a dark, beautiful tale full of horror and wonder in equal measure, about paranoia and loyalty, about being broken and healing, about being lost in the woods and ultimately, finding your way home again.

Arcadia

Arcadia, also known as Faerie, is a dimension that runs parallel to our own, and it is from here that faeries come. It can be loosely divided into two sections - the first is Arcadia proper, the domain of the True Fae which is as varied and mad and beautiful as its masters. This is a world of Victorian manors and clean cities, deserts, idyllic coastlines, deep forests, caves and castles and anything the True Fae desire. They are near omnipotent in their own domains, and as a result each Fae's little slice of Arcadia is whatever he or she wants it to be at any given moment.

The second is known as the Hedge, and it is the border between Arcadia and our world. Essentially, it's a massive sprawling forest of thorns with strange, winding paths through it that is very, very easy to get lost in. Said thorns are mystical in nature, tearing not only at the flesh but also the soul of those who dare leave the path. The Hedge is home to a number of creatures of all shapes and sizes, collectively referred to as Hobgoblins, as well as rare and potent plans called Goblin Fruit. The True Fae rarely come here, except when they are crossing over to the mortal realm. Such a cross can happen at any number of gateways - easily openable by a Fae or Changeling, though on rare occasions humans can blunder through existing gates as well, finding themselves in the Hedge. Unfortunately, such poor souls often find that getting out is a much steeper challenge than getting in, especially if they stray too far from the door that brought them.

The True Fae

Eternal. Bizarre. Mad. Powerful. Cruel. Bored. All these words and more describe the beings known as True Fae, also known as the Others or the Gentry. These are the monsters of fairy tales, the little men that snatch children or the witch that stews men in a pot. All True Fae are soulless, petty beings that exist only to entertain themselves and service their own narcissism. One of their number may play at being a passionate lover, a gentle friend, or a knight in shining armor, but it is always merely play, and the second cruelty amuses such a being more than kindness, you can count on it to be cruel. Their actions are often incomprehensible to mortals, because they are by nature incomprehensible beings, devoid of human souls.

Every Fae is different, and exactly what they are depends largely on their whims and their current modus operandi. One fae might be a hideous troll, living in a cave and grinding bones to meal, while another might be a beautiful elf in a stately manor. An antlered huntsman, an old hag, a hippo-headed river spirit, a pale beast that stalks the shadows with many boneless arms, a man with no eyes that devours children, anything. Likewise, the same Fae may change appearances seemingly at random, though most of them remain bound to a certain theme or idea that they do not stray from.

The society of the True Fae is a harsh and competitive one; they constantly strive to impress and one-up each other in bizarre ways and for petty and incomprehensible reasons. If they have any weakness, it is this: oath-breaking is one of the very few sins recognized as grievous by Fae society, and as a result Fae are creatures of their word. Just don't expect them not to twist their meaning for the best possible outcome to themselves, of course.

Though the Gentry have no souls of their own, something about the human spirit is inescapably fascinating to them. Often, they will travel to the mortal realm and kidnap a human, dragging them to Arcadia to serve as slaves and leaving a Fetch in their place, a magical construct disguised as the victim that will live out their lives for them, often unaware of its own nature. This brings us to...

Changelings

The player characters! A Changeling is an unfortunate human who was kidnapped by a True Fae and brought to Arcadia to serve their master. They may have been snatched from their homes one night with no warning, or spoken the name of the Bogeyman three times at night and gotten whisked away, or lured into the Hedge by a fae temptress, or 'sold their soul' to a fae for some boon and then been dragged off when their debt came due... really, anything you can think of.

Anyway, a Changeling is abducted and dragged through the Hedge to Arcadia. Along the way, their body and soul is torn at by the thorns, often leaving them damaged and half-mad long before they arrive. Once they arrive, their keeper puts them to work, and their Durance begins. Perhaps a twisted Fae of the night required a young girl to sing to it every night, or a dark spirit of the waves needed someone to sort the vast treasure stowed in its sinking ships. A changeling might have been a gladiator, a smith, a maid, a muse, a soldier, a garderner, or something stranger still - perhaps some unfortunate soul was shaped into a doll for a childlike Fae, or a pet, or even a piece of living furniture. Again, pretty much anything you can think of might have happened. Over time, the Durance combines with the effect Arcadia has on the human and changes them, twists their form and makes them part fae. They are now a true Changeling, no longer fully human. As a result, a Changeling has two forms - the Mien, their true shape that reflects their transformation, and the Mask, a human form that mortals in the mortal world see.

Sometimes, a Changeling manages to escape from their captors. These lost and damaged souls slip away, or fight their way out, or win their freedom in a wager with their master, and they flee Arcadia, back through the Hedge and to the mortal world. Of course, that's not the end of the tale - a Changeling has been changed, traumatized by their experience and scarred in body and soul. Often, they have trouble remembering who they were before they were taken, or even what happened to them in Arcadia; their own identities are a confusing fog. The world may be strange and unfamiliar to them, for a Changeling who has aged fifty years may return to the world a mere month after he was taken, or a Changeling who thought she spent two years in Arcadia may emerge to find that decades have passed. Their loved ones often will not have missed them, thanks to the Fetch that was left in their place, and they may react with horror or suspicion at this stranger who comes to them, claiming to be their family. And of course, the constant fear of being recaptured or sold out to the Fae haunts them, and many changelings descend completely into panic and paranoia. Their minds are cloudy, their bodies altered, and their souls forever changed.

So, yeah. Being a Changeling's not the best. But don't worry - this is a game about hope as well as despair, and no matter how deep in the proverbial woods your character may be, there is a path home for them.

The Game

Whew. Alright, background stuff out of the way. This RP will take place in New York City, starting in late September, and it will concern 4 to 6 Changelings who have recently escaped from Arcadia (as in, in the last month or so).

For reasons unknown to the wider community of changelings, New York City has never had a massive presence of fae activity - there are very few gateways throughout the city, and as a result, no Changeling society ever really formed. This has only recently begun to change. Nobody's sure why, but lately changelings have been escaping into New York all over the place, and it seems like new gates are popping up every day. A Goblin Market has opened up underneath the Brooklyn bridge - twice a month, Hobgoblins appear there by night, peddling all manner of wares from all manner of stalls. The Courts, the main governing bodies that form Changeling society, have not arrived yet, but it's only a matter of time.

Players will start the game having been contacted by supernatural means that none of them fully understand, telling them to go to a certain abandoned studio in Brooklyn to participate in a sort of support group / adventuring party, something to do to keep themselves busy and meet with others who have experienced the same things. From there, we'll go into a little mini plotline I have set up. I'm hoping for a very character development focused RP, one where relationships between the characters are interesting and important, but there'll also be a fair amount of adventure and action and mystery to go along with it. It'll be cool.

Rules

1. Don't be a dick.

2. Character sheets go in the OOC or in PM first. Once approved, they can be moved to the Characters tab.

3. If you have an idea for a plot or adventure, pitch it to me - if I like it, you can run it. I'm easy. If you wanna be co-gm and help me out with that full time, all the better, though I'm probably gonna wait a while so I can get a feel for everyone's writing before I appoint any co-GMs.

4. Got a question? A suggestion? Just ask. I'm not the tyrant type GM who needs the game to be run his way - I want you guys to help me make this story awesome.

5. Posting style is High-Casual. That means it's okay to just have a paragraph or two, but complex characters, some sense of development, and of course proper grammar are all pretty much musts.

6. Post once a week, please - if that's not going to be possible for a period of time, just let me know. If I don't hear from you for over a week and a half, I reserve the right to shelve your character and try to get a new player to fill the vacancy.

7. No Mary Sues, God moding, etc etc. I'm sure I don't need to tell you this.

8. Just don't be a dick. It's easy, I have faith in you.

Character Sheet

Name:

Age: Include the year they were born in and their physical age, if you choose to have any time shenanigans in your backstory.

Gender:

Seeming: Described below.

Court: Which of the Courts of Changeling society you are affiliated with. All characters will start courtless, so don't fuss about this for now.

Appearance: Please describe both their Mask and their Mien in a few sentences. Pictures are fine, but you should have text too.

History: This one's important, as Changelings are sort of defined by something that happened to them. Should include their previous life, their capture, what they remember of their master and their Durance, how they came to escape, and anything notable they've done since then. Don't skimp on this, though of course if your character barely remembers anything, it might not be so long.

Personality: Don't skimp on this either, seeing as how character development is intended to be a huge part of this RP. Remember, most Changelings are often pretty damaged by their experiences - that's not to say you can't play an exuberant, happy-go-lucky character, but none of them should be perfectly well adjusted or without trauma.

Skills: What your character is good at in a completely mundane way. A degree in chemistry, a talent for swordfighting, pickpocketing, hacking, lying, whatever, it would all go here.

Supernatural Powers: This is where we start softening game mechanics. Just give us some description of the talents and abilities your character has as a result of their part fae nature - inhuman strength, contracts that let you manipulate fire, an enchanting singing voice, and so on. Changelings aren't super high power (at least not at the beginning, but I'll probably mark down a few points in the RP where your characters can grow stronger), so don't go overboard - I also encourage you to include powers that are weird and esoteric to really seal in that fairytale flavor, something like 'Can speak to ravens' or 'Is healed by eating huge quantities of meat'. I don't know, have fun with it.

Weaknesses: Both mundane and supernatural. Have a couple, but don't stress too much about it.

Possessions: Stuff your character has. You may include one to three tokens, or magic items, depending on how powerful and useful they are. Should include some note of how you got them - imagine you stole your captor's blade during your escape, and it is a mighty sword that always strikes true so long as it is bathed once a day in pure river water. Stuff like that.

Other: Anything else you want to include about your character. Little tics, theme song, favorite food, whatever.

Seemings

So, though I'm getting rid of most of the 'tabletopy' elements of Changeling like the clarity meter, magic resources, specific spells and contracts to choose from, experience points, power levels and so on, I am keeping 'Seemings', as it's a useful class system to illustrate the different varieties of Changeling that can exist. (To be clear to any fans of the RPG, I actually quite like most of those elements, I just don't think they would translate well to forum RP).

Seemings are basically classes. They're five different categories of changeling that often reflects what they're capable of, what their Durance was and occasionally (though not always) what kind of Fae they served. Don't fuss too much if you share a seeming with another character - Changelings can and should be distinct even inside these categories, and they're more like general guidelines than specific 'you are this' type things. They are (copied and pasted from the White Wolf Wiki, then edited a little):

Beasts: Beasts are changelings who were used or treated as animals during their captivity. They take on some part of an animal's nature and appearance, bestial sensation and instinct ever struggling for dominance with human thought and reason. Pretty self-explanatory. These are your mermaids, your wolfmen, your satyrs, your monkey kings, your spider queens, and so on.

Darklings: Darkling changelings have been imbued with the darkness of Faerie, embodying shadow and stealth, fear and deception. Think pale monsters of the night, spectres of pure blackness, hungry monsters that leech away at humanity. Creepy monsters go here.

Elementals: Elementals were used as inanimate objects or forces of nature during their captivity. When they return to the mortal realm, they retain power over the elements they once belonged to, but find that humanity has become alien to them. They might be beings of fire, ice, water, earth, air, wood, metal, lightning, you get the gist.

Fairest: Fairest embody grace and power, beauty and cruelty, able to enchant and beguile those around them. These are your elves and sirens, but also your vampires and your inhumanly beautiful, inhumanly alien creatures.

Ogres: Ogres are creatures of great strength and prowess, hardened and brutalised by the tortures and abuses they endured at their masters' hands. Trolls, wendigos, hags, rakshasa, oni - anything brutal and rough and strong goes here.

Wizened: Wizened have lost something of themselves to Faerie. Reduced in body and/or mind, made smaller than they were, many have turned bitter and spiteful. They were the ones used as laborers, craftsmen, surgeons, librarians, and so on by their captors. Gnomes, little gray aliens, shriveled up little goblins go here.

If you have a cool character concept and aren't sure where it would fit, please feel free to ask! The purpose of seemings is to inspire, not to restrict, so I'm sure everything can have a place in one of those categories.

Inspiration

Finally, I leave you with a brief list of media you can use to inspire yourself and/or get a feel for the tone and subject matter:

Pan's Labyrinth
Hellboy 2: The Golden Army
Howl's Moving Castle
Where the Wild Things Are
Spirited Away
Labyrinth
Return to Oz
Twin Peaks
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Coleridge
The Thorn by Wordsworth
Grimm's Fairy Tales (of course)

Alright. I think that's my job done. Have fun!

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<sub>"Seven long years I served for thee,
The glassy hill I clomb for thee,
Thy bloody clothes I wrang for thee;
And wilt thou not waken and turn to me?

He heard, and turned to her."
— The Black Bull of Norroway</sub>

[Sisyphus]

@Medjedovic@coffeetime@BubblegumQueen@The Narrator Here we are!

[ProPro]

So it doesn't look like you addressed my question back in the interest check. Would you allow a fetch instead of a changeling?

[71452K]

[[Thread is at full capacity, no point leaving character here.]]

[Sisyphus]

So it doesn't look like you addressed my question back in the interest check. Would you allow a fetch instead of a changeling?

@ProPro

Yeah, I had to think about it. Unfortunately, I think I'm gonna have to turn you down - it just wouldn't really work for the kind of game I was hoping for, plus I'd imagine that relations between said fetch and the other characters would be... weird.

[coffeetime]

Name: Bridget O’Dunn

Age: 24 (born in 1993)

Gender: Female

Seeming: Wizened

Court:

Appearance:

Appearance

Mask: She has pale skin and freckles, and her hair is a light, strawberry red that falls just past her shoulders. Her eyes are a clear grey. She is a very thin, with a bony and frail frame that makes her look a bit sickly. Her nails are short, usually bitten down. She mainly dresses in jeans and oversized t-shirts, with bracelets lining her wrists. Her favorite pair of shoes - an old pair of dirtied white converse - is the partner to every clothing ensemble.

Mien: Her natural form carries many similarities to her human one. She is thin and bony with strawberry red hair, and large grey eyes. In this form she carries much pointier features - a sharp nose and chin, and defined cheek bones. Her eyes point downwards in a severe manner. In this form, her skin is a deep green. Vine like patterns of a lighter green weave their way up her skin like tattoos. Her lips are a pale green and heart shaped.

History:

History

She was ten years old when she was brought to the Faerie realm, making her time in captivity nearly 13 years. She arrived back in the human world after making her escape a year prior to the present day. Her life prior to her kidnapping was that of a normal 10 year old - simple minded, and happy. She had a mother and father and a 5 year old brother. Her 10 year old self was highly gifted at the piano, and won a competition where she caught the eye of a faerie. He took on the form of her teacher and lured her into the hedge.

Her days in the faerie realm were spent in a large and extravagant estate owned by a prominent and malicious group of fae. Many different faeries visited the house, and it was always filled with excitement and entertainment - though not for her. She was an object to them, an extension of the piano. On some days, they charmed her into mindlessness, letting days slip by without her noticing. On other days, they made her sit aware in her shell of a body, watching as she played until her fingers bled on the piano, thinking, but not being able to move or speak. On a rare occasion she was allowed to leave the piano. She cherished these days, but they also terrified her. The whims of the faeries sometimes led her to food and wine and the ability to speak, and other times they led her to new tortures. On her free days, she often cherished the company of a cook in the estate - Lirael - a lesser fae who feared her superiors too much to play with their favorite human. Though Bridget knew in her heart that Lirael probably would have tortured her like the others, given the opportunity, she cherished those as small fond memories, a light in the dark.

Her master Oren was a terrifying and severe creature. His moods switched from charming to violent in a second. Sometimes he would allow her to converse with him. Although she feared him more than any of the other fae there, she couldn't hold back the excitement of being allowed to engage in conversation. Days of watching herself play piano and trying to listen to surrounding conversation made life torturously slow. She had to be careful what she said to him. One day she asked him if he could set her free and he smashed her hands in the piano and she had to play with broken fingers for days until his mood improved. Some days he would just sit and watch her play without words. He often said that she was a pretty human pair with the piano, meant to be, but without it, she was ugly and dull.

Her escape was made possible by a giant celebration at the estate. After drinking and celebrating for some time, her master decided to let her roam free from the piano. The mood was jubilant and relaxed at first, but soon, a spat caused a violent fight to break out among the fae. Absorbed with their fighting, intoxicated, and unconcerned with her, Bridget managed to slip outside. Once outside, she ran for her life, and she found her way to the hedge. For two days, she stumbled through, trying to stay awake while her limbs screamed from running and from the biting thorns, too scared to stop. Miraculously, she found a gate and made it into the human world.

Her return to the human world was jarring and uncomfortable. She searched for her old home only to find that her family had moved. She slept on the streets with the homeless for months, but eventually she was able to find a job at a coffee shop, and now, she rents out a room in a tiny apartment. She shares the apartment with a mish mash of friendly acquaintances - a 40 year woman with a motherly feel, an 18 year old boy who rarely leaves his room, and a 27 year old woman who is an artist.

Personality:

Personality

Despite the fact that she was starved for conversation in the faerie world, Bridget is quiet. She is suspicious and tense after her captivity and heavily guards her words. However nervous her personality may be, she is still kind, gentle and soft spoken. She is very inquisitive. Still getting accustomed to the human world after many years away, she is clumsy and confused. She is often scared to do things that she is unfamiliar with. She walks everywhere because she doesn’t know how to use the subway. Since she is scared of being recaptured, she has become very superstitious, nervous that human superstitions were all made up because of the faeries. The sight or sound of a piano is enough to make her physically ill.

Skills:

Skills

She is gifted at piano but wont even go near one because of her trauma. She is a barista so she is good at making delicious drinks. Aside from that, she has taken up crocheting, and knitting, and she is always making scarves and hats

Supernatural Powers:

Supernatural Powers

In tune with skill as a pianist, she has musical ears. She can sometimes hear songs coming from objects, animals, and humans that give her a “musical aura”. Everything in the living world has a song she can hear. The song can sometimes tell her things about them, though it’s not always consistent. It can give her a sense of it’s feelings, history, or purpose. (note, no intent to god mod, I will be careful about reading too much into people!) Since coming back to the human world she has started to notice something else forming - a strange sensation in her fingers when she feels fearful or threatened - the feeling of tingling sparks, and a change in the musical aura around her. It feels dark - a twisting and dissonant melody.

Weaknesses:

Weaknesses

Her suspiciousness and paranoia has kept her from having close relationships, so she lives a very solitary life. She smokes and drinks excessively. Her aversion to the piano can sometimes lead to panic attacks, vomiting, and other physical reactions in public if she sees or hears one. Her supernatural abilities can make it hard to hold conversations, as occasionally the musical aura of a surrounding object can be so powerful that it overpowers the voices around her and even her thoughts.

Possessions:

Possesions

She doesn’t own much since her return to the human world.
- A small selection of baggy t-shirts and jeans she got a thrift stores, and a solitary pair of white converse which have turned much less white over time.
- a beat up, trackphone with limited calls and texts and no data
- a collection of knitting and crochet needles and yarn she got from unraveling sweaters she bought at goodwill.
- one pot, pan, coffee mug, plate, glass, and set of silverware
- a cross necklace (though she’s not religious, just will wear or do anything she hopes might possibly ward off faeries)
- a journal
- A pebble she picked up from the faerie realm - she keeps it to remind herself she was really there. It’s musical aura brings an unpleasant sound to her ears.

Other: I’ll come back later if I think of some…. Burnt out at this point lol.

[Pathfinder]

@Sisyphus
I'd be interested, I'm going to have to do my own research on the setting but I'm a fan of the NWoD universe and just haven't gotten around to checking out Changeling before. Plus this allows me to stretch my legs after being gone from the guild for so long.

[Pathfinder]

@Sisyphus
Are we going to be using Kiths? You didn't mention them in the OOC but I just wanted to make sure.

[Sisyphus]

Really like the CS's so far, guys! I'll go over the complete one more thoroughly in the morning.

@Pathfinder Glad to have you on board! Excellent question. We're not gonna use Kiths, as those are mostly just a method to provide rules backing to different character concepts, i.e. making it so that you could, say, play an ogre that is mechanically incentivized to eat people, for the example of Gristlegrinder. Since we've softened the rules so much, we don't really need that sort of thing - you can just roll what the kith would give you into your generic supernatural skills section.

That being said, however, I welcome you to look to kiths for character inspiration. Some of them are really cool, particularly the Darkling and Fairest ones (though that might be personal taste on my part).

[Pathfinder]

@Sisyphus
Cool, coincedently I was looking at a Gristlegrinder for my characters inspiration. With that new batch of info I'll just cherry pick my favorite parts of the most interesting Kiths and see where that takes me. Should have a rough skeleton done tonight, though maybe the lights of inspiration will shine favorably. Ciao.

[XxLyraxX]

@Sisyphus
I'll be placing down a tentative interest in joining. If I have time tomorrow, I'll see about making a character. I do have a question though (And forgive me if it's answered in the first post): What sort of the appearance should the changelings have in their natural form? Are they all misshapen or are smaller features allowed? Such as pitch black eyes and such?

[Pathfinder]

@Sisyphus
Just the basics for now, I got really tired halfway done so everything is up for change as it stands.

---

Peter

Name:
Peter

Age:
27 (Born in 1970)

Gender:
Male

Seeming:
Ogre

Court:
N/A

Appearance:

Mask: Peter is a gargantuan man, towering over most men at a staggering 7'4. His entire body carries the story of pain and hard labour, from his tanned, leathery skin to the rippling muscles that lay underneath them. Even streaks of soot and dust seem to pepper his body and clothes, inevitably returning to his person no matter how many times he scrubs them off. Normally this combination of features would make him a fairly intimidating figure, however pity seems to be the most common. Wicked scars cover his body, mostly old burns that cover his arms, legs, and parts of his chest, and claw wounds from fending off underground beasties marking his shoulders and stomach. However the the real monsters are the ones on his back. A ragged mess of ugly scars that could have only come from a whip. With nothing to be said about the destroyed hole that would have held his left eye.

Mien: Dropping the mask is as explosive as it is terrifying. His flesh blackens and becomes cracked, a inner flame corrupting his flesh into a blasted wasteland. The empty eye socket that once held his left eye is filled with a roaring flame while his right eye becomes painfully bloodshot and wild eyed. Finally spikes of iron push up from beneath his flesh, covering his right arm in black shards.

History:
It could be said that Peter never really lived before he was spirited away, just barely ten years old at the time. However he was happy, he had a father he looked up to, a mother who loved him with all her heart, with a new addition to the family on the way. Peter couldn't have been happier, and with a hike to Mount St. Helens on the way, how could anything go wrong?

Naturally everything went wrong when, while walking near the mountain a decent sized earthquake caused the fury of hell to be unleashed on earth. Mount St. Helens exploded, the weakened earth and stone causing an avalanche of superheated ash and stone charging down the mountain side. To this day the sound haunts Peter, along with the look on his mother's face as a long, clawed arm reached through a crack in the ground and yanked her only son through before being incinerated.

Peter's trip through the hedge was particularly violent as the True Fae who stole him, Bergentrückung, cared very little for his new toy's wellbeing. Half mad and beyond scared by the time Peter was taken to Bergentrückung's domain, Peter was soon strapped down into a table and... examined. If one horribly thing could be said about Fae medicine, is that it is tragically effective. After his master was satisfied with poking through his guts Peter was sewn back up, slapped with a salve that healed everything up, and tossed into the mines with everyone else.

The work was hard, with Peter going to sleep with bloody and broken hands more than anything else for the first few years but the worst of it came from the other Ogres. They ignored Peter at best or took out their own pain on him at worst, with the only exception of Geraldine. Geraldine was a relative newcomer, like Peter, and she did everything in her power to protect him from the horrors of the mine. Unfortunately, she never did have much power. More often than not she got in between the aggressors and Peter before taking the beating for him. And so it went on, Peter growing stronger and his body twisting to better accommodate his labours while Geraldine grew weaker.

Geraldine was always a little weaker than everyone else, not physically, but emotionally... or maybe she was stronger, peter was never sure. Nonetheless she never gave into the heartlessness, tucking away the bit of you that feels pain and compassion so that she could bare with the weight of everything. So it's no surprise that one day, she just gave up. After a particularly hard beating and... other things, Geraldine just decided she had had enough and let go. Right before she passed she apologized to Peter before handing him an old, trashed ring that she had been keeping a secret. Peter was inconsolable, years of pain, anger, and frustration bubbling over into a sobbing wreck that quickly changed into a screaming rage.

Before he even knew what he was doing Peter had tackled one of the bastards and began to rip him apart. Flesh, blood, and bone flew across the Ogre pit as Peter dug into his work. Then he went after another, and another. By the time Bergentrückung found out what was happening Peter had killed five of the seven bastards, and he was decidedly not happy. No one broke his toys but him.

He placed Peter into his personal chamber where in he tortured Peter for months. Disassembled and put back together, made into kindling for his cauldron, and his personal favorite, being forced to drink molten gold. By the time Bergentrückung had felt that Peter had learned his lesson Peter had lost two things, his eye and any scrap of the young boy who first came here. For the next seven years Peter fostered a deep, seething hatred for not only Bergentrückung but for the metals and jewels he was constantly digging up. It grew until finally, Peter did something about it.

One day, as Bergentrückung made his rounds around his forge, Peter had snuck behind a great vat of molten gold and waited. When "The King Under the Mountain" came to inspect his ingots Peter pushed with ever ounce of his might into tipping the vat over. The pain was indescribable, his flesh searing as he strained. It worked and the cry of pain is a sound that Peter will savor for the rest of his days, the feeling of a giant hand crushing his ribs is something he's less eager to remember. As it turns out, it's much harder to kill a True Fae than it is an Ogre.

Screaming with the fury of Mount St. Helens herself, Bergentrückung smashed Peter into the rock before taking him outside and throwing him like a stone. Peter landed like a comet into the Hedge. He most certainly would have died if not for the actions of a more benign Hobgoblin finding his broken body. They nursed him back to health and even gave him an exit, all Peter had to do in return was sign a contract for one "Favor" that the Hobgoblin would come collect sometime in the future. Peter knew not to trust the thing completely, but he didn't have much of a choice.

Since then he has been bumming around Oregon, lost in a world he doesn't recognize. However it hasn't been all bad, in fact he's ecstatic. Sure he's always worried about something coming to get him but he's doing that while being Free. It isn't easy, it isn't hardly fair, but he's alive and he's free.

Personality:
The easiest way to describe peter would be a child with every ounce of innocence beaten out of them. He was forced to grow up fast and has been deprived of even the barest minimum of intimacy and compassion, with no higher knowledge than that of a ten year old. However this isn't always a terribly thing.

Despite everything Peter was able to retain his sense of wonder. He would stand awestruck when he found a cluster of glowing fungus in the mines, or try to catch a small insect out of curiosity. Even now, the level of technology is mind boggling compared to what was around during the 70's and anything new he learns is another crazy miracle in his eyes. Ultimately his escape has installed an optimism that has been missing for a really long time.

Skills:
Earthbreaker, part of Peter's duties under Burgentruckung was the excavation of his endless mines in search of coal, gems, and precious metals. Because of this he can spot the weaknesses in any stone structure with ease.

Bonecracker, A common danger in the mines are the many types of beasts that like to make their homes in the earth and, since no tools were given, Peter and those like him were forced to adopt a fighting style that involved blows that would cripple and agonize their foe.

Supernatural Powers:
Compared to many other Changelings Peter is pretty tame. He is incredibly strong, even by Ogre standards, and his skin resistant all but the hottest flames. His sense of hearing and smell is highly developed, even his remaining eye is highly adapted to low light vision. However he does have one, more supernatural ability. When sufficiently angry Peter tends to catch on fire, a cloak of searing flames that does little harm to Peter but should he get his hands on you, well... hope you like the smell of bacon.

Weaknesses:
-Ekrixphobia, or the fear of explosions. Anything louder than a small firework can set it off and every time it does he is ripped back to that ten year old boy, facing a wall of ash and fire. Peter begins to sweat, hyperventilate, and dry heave as he tries to run in the opposite direction of the blast. However he can also fly into primal rage, Fight taking over flight and discerning friend or foe becomes difficult in the haze though this is much more rare.

-Seeing jewels and precious metals inspire an intense desire to destroy them and Peter gets antsy when he can't act on it.

-Extreme light sensitivity, with bright lights giving him migraines and little to no vision.

Possessions:
-Geraldine's Ring, a crude, tarnished gold ring that is the only exception to Peter's hatred of precious metals.

-Gargoyles, A pair of sunglasses that were given to him soon after he returned to Earth. They do a good job on hiding his facial scarring.

Other:
Jemaine is basically illiterate, his ability to read having atrophied in the constant struggle in the Ogre pits. Though given some time he'll be able to pick it up again.

Technically Peter is dead, one of the 57 casualties of the Mount St. Helens eruption.

[BubblegumQueen]

Robin Pearman

Name: Robin Pearman

Age: Born in 1958. They physically look 26.

Gender: Female

Seeming: Elemental

Court: Courtless

Appearance:
Mask: Light brown skin with a beauty mark underneath her right eye. Big chocolate brown eyes framed by thick and dark lashes. A smaller nose that narrows to a point. Thick and arched eyebrows with smaller lips that look to be constantly quirked to the left, giving the impression of a smirk. There is a dimple on that cheek with high cheekbones. She's short at 5'3 with a slightly disproportionate frame, more pearshaped. She has long and curly dark brown hair with light brown and blonde natural highlights scattered throughout that falls to her elbows. She typically wears long skirts or dresses. Maybe even the odd shorts here and there. Usually with crop tops or with tunics, maybe the odd flannel. Always with a single ring on her ring finger.

Mien: She looks very similar to human form apart from a few key features. Her skin becomes hardened like one of those antique glass dolls you'd see. Her eyes glaze over and turn into a milky shade, lifeless. There are cracks littered all over her skin, a few pieces missing revealing black emptiness. She shrinks down to 5 feet even, not too far down from her usual height.

History: Robin's previous life is a blur, small details missing. She came to the U.S with her parents from Mexico when she was a little girl. They bought some house somewhere in a rural town, small in numbers, very close-knit. When she was older, she met a man. His name is lost to her, but she remembers them falling in love. It was something... epic. They got married and moved in with each other a few years after their first meeting. She remembered being... happy. She'd never been the most... sought after girl with her accent and dislike for most 'normal' girl things. He was the first guy to show any interest in her.

They were happy together. Less than a year after their marriage, she gave birth to her first child. A baby girl. Her name was... Alice. She remembered that. Then, 2 years later, twin boys by the names of James and David. She's unsure as to why she remembers her children's names and not her husband's but... Robin prefers to not think of it. She stayed at home while he was a... doctor? Or maybe a businessman. One of the two. While it may seem like a bland or boring existence... she was genuinely happy. She never wanted it to change... but she wouldn't be known to you if that was it, ya know?

Her capture was... another blur at first. But, she dreamt of it every night so she was quite familiar with it. She was at home, making dinner. Her husband was to be home soon and she wanted to surprise him, it being their anniversary. The kids were upstairs doing... something. Apparently, there was a rumor going around their school that if they said this... thing and did a ritual, they'd be able to have good luck. Them being kids, they saw nothing wrong with it and believed it to be true. So, they cut open one of Alice's old dolls and put a strand of their hair into it before taping it shut. They said... something. She didn't know what. And it didn't give them good luck but it did something.

Robin heard their screams and had ran upstairs. Bursting into the older sibling's room where they were, she saw this... creature. It was... tall and lanky... horribly disfigured. It was as if it's face had been melted, all of the features mixing together. It held her squirming children in it's hands, trying to stuff them into a sack, some kind of portal behind it. She didn't think. She didn't hesitate. She threw one of the books from the bookcase at it, and kept throwing. Apparently, she caught his attention and kept it. Setting the children down, it went for her. She fought back best she could but she was no match for it. With her children crying and screaming for her and the sound of it laughing, it all went to black when she finally shoved into the sack.

Everything after that was... hell. She was trapped inside a doll. The creature that took her was apparently a collector. It collected everything from dolls, to carvings, to even silverware. It looked shiny. Robin was it's favorite doll to play with. But, the doll she was inside of was one of those antique glass dolls. You know, the ones that your grandparents told you to be careful with because if you dropped it, you could crack it. Yeah, one of those. Those dolls were never meant to be played with, usually just kept for the decor. But, it didn't care. It would have tea parties with her, run around and play with her, have fights with her against other dolls (Those were the worst. She had a feeling she wasn't the only soul inside of a doll, it filled her with the disturbing mix of pity and relief at not being alone.), and he would sleep with her. She was the favorite, she could never figure out why.

Actually, no. The fights weren't the worst... his tantrums were. He was apparently more childish then you'd think. He'd storm into his hidden home where she was kept, so angry. She never figured out why he was so angry all the time. Hell, it took years before she realized that 'it' was a 'he'. Process of elimination, really. He'd come in angry and would start breaking stuff. His rage was... horrifying. She always took the brunt of it, being thrown around so much that it was a miracle the whole thing didn't shatter. But, by the time she left, the doll had many pieces missing and many cracks scattered all over. It came to reflect how her Mien form would look. And don't think that just because she was a doll, she felt nothing. No, she felt it all. And it was... agony. And it never ended. The same routine over and over again for what felt like centuries... before she escaped.

Now she would be let out of the doll every once in a while, usually to clean herself up and maybe eat. She could go a long time without eating there and she didn't need to clean herself as often. But whenever she started to smell, he would take her out of the doll to clean her. It was demeaning and disgusting, feeling his lumpy hands on her own skin. But, she dealt with it because she never knew when she'd ever be let go again or if he'd throw a fit and up killing her the next day. It just so happened that on the day he was letting her out to feed her, he'd left the door unlocked by mistake. She didn't hesitate, she couldn't. She ran. She ran out of the door and ran down the stairs, he was none the wiser. Her legs hadn't been used in a long time and she kept stumbling and falling, but she didn't stop. Even as rocks and sharp objects bit into her feet, cracking them, she didn't stop. She'd memorized the path back to the hedge to reach home. He'd taken her down this path many a time for walks and strolls whenever he walked his possessions. And it wasn't until as she was leaving that she realized she never knew it's name... and she didn't care.

Reaching the mortal relm, she was naked, cold, dirty, and starving. She'd appeared in the same place she was taken... her older daughter Alice's room. However, it was empty. Moving quietly, she searched for any sign of her family and... nothing. It was as if they were never there... there was a new couple living there if the pictures were anything to go by. Stepping outside, there were all these things that she never knew about. Unfamiliar and horrifying. She ran... again. She'd managed to change into human form and had stolen some clothes, doing her best to get to New York in this unfamiliar world. Her parents had told her that, if she needed them, to come to New York and she would be welcomed.

She made it there a few weeks later after hitching a ride from a few people and managing to steal some money in order to pay for a flight to New York. She did some... not so good things. Making it there, she searched for her parents the best she could, going to the address she'd repeated in her head like a mantra during her time in captivity. She'd always wanted to believe she'd escape, after all. However, she was horrified to find out that she was already there. Or, at the very least, someone who looked like her. She'd banged on the door, pleading for them to recognize that it was her. But, her family thought that she was some crazy woman trying to hurt them while they were having a nice dinner to celebrate her daughter Alice's engagement.

She was chased away with threat of a shotgun to the face and she had to leave. She realized she was on her own and used her remaining money to buy a small apartment in the shady side of New York. She got a job as a waitress at some kind of lounge. That's all she'd been doing, working and sleeping with little in between. She lives as comfortably as she can considering she's constantly looking over her shoulder and has no family and friends. The only reason she got the job was because the owner found her attractive and has been trying to get into her pants ever since. She gets paid well enough and can afford to go out and buy stuff but she doesn't. She saves her money and doesn't do anything that could draw attention to herself. (As far as she knows.) It's not the best life or even a really good one. But, she's alive and away from him. She'll take what she can get.

Personality: Prior to her capture, Robin was a confident girl. Sure, for the time period she was a bit of an oddity. Willing to stand up for herself and being anything but a submissive. However, these character traits only mutated when she was captured and let go. Her confidence turned a recklessness. Sure, she didn't want to get caught by any fae ever again. However, with other humans? She's no longer really scared of anything that's not fae or supernatural related. She is bluntly honest and has this feisty temper that developed after being unable to speak for herself for what felt like hundreds of years. Her ire for anything submissive turned her into a control freak. She despises being unable to control everything about her life. From what she wears to what she eats. If she wants to do something, even if on a whim, she'll do it. When she was a doll, she was never able to do even the most simple of things like feed herself or bathe herself. This will be different. She'll never let anyone control her ever again.

She's also anything but loud. At least, as long as you don't make her angry. She's not quiet to the point where she is afraid to speak or would be more likely to curl into herself then approach someone. Nothing like that. It's just that she's more of an observer. Being in a doll, whenever you weren't played with, you were forced to just sit on a shelf and stare. Just watch what was going on around you. Sure, it was boring. But, doing that made you observant and made you notice even the tiniest things. Robin just naturally falls back into that quiet state and just watches everything. It makes her great at noticing small details and ticks about people. She may come across as uncaring, aloof, or even crazy considering her being rash and being incapable of not thinking through decisions that don't involve fae. But, she is one of the most caring people you'll ever meet. She was a mother of three, don't forget that. Caring for others is embedded in her DNA. No matter how much she may try and fight those instincts, if she sees injustice or cruelty, she will act.

Skills: She is good at lying and sucking up to people, able to usually get what she wants from people. This comes from her having to lie to her captor in order to get extra time outside the doll or just to eat on her own. She's good at negotiations and sweet-talking, what can she say?

She's also a pretty great cook and, interestingly enough, she's a great dancer. Her husband and she used to go dancing every weekend either by themselves or with friends. She's, uh, good with random trivia and her skills with guitar are pretty good. Childhood and all that, even if she doesn't remember exactly how this happened.

Supernatural Powers: She has the ability to speak to dolls, able to communicate with them and have them talk back. She can just make small talk with them or ask them to keep an eye out for people or ask them if they'd seen others.

She also has a slight sensitivity to magic, mostly just enough to feel if it's near. She'd been exposed to a lot of it during her time in captivity.

Robin, if need be, can control dolls. Some dolls are empty, with no voices inside of them or life whatsoever. Those are the dolls she can control. Using her thoughts, she can have them do whatever she wants. Whether it be grab something, make something, or even fight someone if need be. But, those kinda dolls are hard to fine.

She can also turn into a doll that looks just like her, useful if she needs to heal. However, break and destroy the doll... destroy her.

Weaknesses: Due to her desire for control, she has a habit of not thinking things through. Sometimes taking really risky actions just because she wants to. Unless, of course, it involves the fae. She has an almost paralytic fear of the fae, afraid that if she gets caught she'll be sent back into the doll and to her cruel captor.

She is also claustrophobic with a fear of cramped and dark spaces. She is also allergic to blueberries and has this irrational fear of technology. Hmm, it might not be best described as a fear. More of an annoyance with technology considering she's not good with it and anything even somewhat advanced has a tendency to... malfunction.

Possessions: Apart from some of the obvious items, 3 of those that standout are.

1. Her wedding ring, she has never taken it off even when she was trapped inside a doll.

2. When she was escaping, she grabbed a large black overcoat to cover herself with. It was all she wore when she escaped and when she arrived in the human world. She didn't wear it since then, keeping it only as a souvenir to remember that she escaped. However, she does sense this strange magical energy from it. She'd assumed it was because of where it was from but... she's not sure.

3. An acoustic guitar she'd bought. It was one of the only things she'd bought for entertainment apart from books... she has a lot of them. It was something she bought on a whim and doesn't play it often. But, it feels like a connection to her past so... she doesn't get rid of it.

Other:
A quirk: She has an obsession with animals. Like, it doesn't matter the species or whatever. If she sees a dog, or a cat, or a lion, she wants to pet it.
Favorite Food: Tacos. Tacos are awesome.
Theme Song: Hmm... Control by Halsey.
Whatever: The movie Jumanji is awesome.

Been working on this most of the morning, some stuff is subject to change.

[Sisyphus]

@coffeetime Very well done! I like the detail of the history and the way she expresses her paranoia through superstition; you did a good job nailing the 'Changeling' concept, I think.

@BubblegumQueen Also very well done. The history section in particular is out of the park, and I really like your vision of the fae captor and his strange childishness.

My only note for both of you before acceptance is that you could beef up the supernatural powers, if you wanted to; I know I didn't do a fantastic job of establishing just where the power level is. If either of you wanted your powers to be a bit more versatile or robust, that'd be fine; if you're happy where you are, that's cool too, though.

@Pathfinder I like him so far! I know you're not done, but just thought I'd chime in on that. I was sort of hoping one of the characters we'd get would be a big, nasty ogre like him, and I think the 'overstimulation from cheering' weakness is very cool and original.

@XxLyraxX To answer your question, not all changelings are grievously malformed, though as a rule they tend to be recognizably inhuman and sort of bizarre looking; the exception being some of the Wizened, who might just appear as diminutive or shriveled people, or the Fairest, some of whom look just like people who are sort of inhumanly beautiful and graceful. It's up to you, really.

[BubblegumQueen]

@SisyphusThank you! I'm glad you like it.

And while I think I'll keep her powers more passive so as to keep her character mostly the same, I think I'll play around with the doll idea some more for her powers, maybe see if there's some changes I could make.

[Rawk]

Wow @Sisyphus, a blast from the past for sure. I still have my original Changeling Player's Guide (cir 1998!) somewhere buried on a shelf collecting dust :)

I may have to check this out if you're still looking for additional players...

[Medjedovic]

WIP, I just wanted to post something so you know I'm still in the game.

Michael Liam

Michael Liam

Before you stands a young Asian man, his apparent age in middle twenties. His black, messy hair falls down to his shoulders and from under the cover of black bangs two gray eyes glare at you with a bestial intensity. His build is slim, but the clothes he wears do little to hide the well defined muscles. He is by no means tall, probably somewhere between 170-180 centimetres, but there is a certain weight to his presence that makes him appear larger and more menacing.

As he tells you his story, however, the Mask breaks on several moments, when his emotions get too intense, and you see his Mien: the tail, the goat legs, and the macabre goat skull he uses as a helmet or a mask.

Age: 24 (apparent), born 1978
Gender: Male
Seeming: Beast
Court: None
History:

I used to be a normal kid, you know? Back before it happened. There was nothing special about me. My looks, my grades, my ability in quite about every field were dead on average. Okay, okay, maybe not so average, there were variations sure, but nothing about me made me stick out. Yeah, I liked PCs and coding, which back in the day wasn’t so common, but if you asked my IT teacher who are the future Bill Gates and Steve Jobs of my generation, my name wouldn’t be among the first five mentioned. Probably not even in the first ten. That is why I have no idea how I caught her attention, let alone why I was picked for such a role. Maybe she knew me better than I knew myself – now that’s a terrifying thought.

She came for me bloody personally. Her Most Esteemed Excellency the Marquise found it in herself to get off her pompous ass and come to Earth, kidnap me just as I was returning home from school and drag me through the Hedge. I don’t remember much of the trip to Arcadia. My earliest memory from my Durance was being shoved into an animal stall. All my clothes were stripped off of me and I was left stark naked in the cold. The stall was small, not long enough even for a human to lie down and sleep, which resulted in me getting barely any proper sleep. It was always in the small intervals – sleep for an hour then get awoken when your head or other body part hits the wall of the stall. They fed me with stuff whose taste I don’t want to remember, let alone try to guess what was in it. I think pigs on Earth would turn their heads from that shit, but that was the only source of sustenance I had. And I needed it. Oh God did I need it.

I don’t know how long I was kept in that stall, but no amount of time would have prepared me for what was to come. One day I was simply taken out of it and thrown into the Arena. Yes, Arena with the capital A. It was huge and it was famous in whole of Arcadia, if my mistress was to be believed. They gave me a sword and told me to fight this one guy in extremely flamboyant armour and with an attitude to match. I wasn’t the only one however, there were many other poor suckers there with me. When I remember it now, it was like that thing they do in Spain. You know, the bull fighting, when this super fancy looking guy faces down a raging bull. Well, we were bulls, facing down a single matador, and we were massacred. The champ didn’t even break a sweat.

Next thing I know I was back in my stall, awakening to a terrible pain in the area of my chest where the guy’s sword pierced me. Do you notice the problem? I was pierced by a sword, a stab right into my chest and probably heart, yet I awoke. No wounds, only pain. For a moment I thought I dreamed the whole fight, but the visit from the Marquise dispelled such delusions.

Oh was she happy with how the things turned out. Turned out I had a talent of being extremely difficult to kill and that meant I could provide her with endless entertainment. She disregarded my complaints of not wanting to be stabbed to death anymore and quickly arranged for another fight. And then another. And another. And many, many more. I won’t bore you with describing them. Suffice to say that I “died” and “died” a lot. But the dying wasn’t even the worst part, it was the wounds that didn’t kill me but only severely crippled me that were truly horrendous.

However, all that dying wasn’t in vain. With each visit to the Arena I got better. With each fight there was a slight improvement. My reflexes got faster, my body stronger, my eyes could discern enemy’s intentions better, my hands got used to wielding swords. After God knows how many fights, I began winning. I still remember my first victory, the exaltation I felt when I stood under the gaze of a cheering crowd and my enemy lying broken and mauled before me. I tell you, it was the greatest high of my life. If my mistress wasn’t a cunt I might’ve even grown to like my new existence.

But she was and I didn’t.

When my victories started becoming more and more frequent the Marquise began losing interest in my fights. Seeing me manage not to be a pathetic wretch was not entertaining to her. She began partaking in the more direct forms of torture and she knew exactly where to cut and what to break. She was careful, though. My victories brought her lots of prestige and she didn’t want me incapable of fighting. In fact, she even wanted have fighters cut of the same cloth as me, so she had me breed with other animals from her farm. That’s right, I lost my virginity to a woman too terrified to feel any pleasure from the act, and you know what truly disgusts me? I liked it. They didn’t have to force to do jack shit, the moment I saw her I pounced like in bull in heat – which I guess I was, in a sense. And just like with fights, it didn’t stop at first.

Still, I was getting sick of it all. Fuck, sick isn’t the right word, I was horrified by what I was becoming, so I decided to make a deal with the Marquise. Actually, I think the word bet is more appropriate. I won’t bother describing how I got her to talk to me about it seriously in the first place, but the end result was that we made a contract: if I keep an interrupted winning streak for a year and a day, she will let me go free. I made sure to hammer all the nasty details out – she couldn’t sabotage me or have somebody else do it for her and when I was let free I was free forever, she or anyone on her beck and call was not going to come back for me.

Thus, the victories started rolling. By this point of time I was already a veritable monster in the Arena. Time after time I would look into the enemy’s eyes and see the acceptance of the inevitable. I didn’t care. Now I had something to work towards. Something to keep me from going insane and turning into the animal the True Fae already treated me as.

Naturally, my mistress wasn’t going to just let me leave. Oh no. The bitch had a plan. You remember me saying that I was used to breed more fighters? Well, normally they would change the woman after a while, to be as efficient as possible. Not during this year, though. Instead I kept getting parried with one girl named Telin – or at least that’s the name she gave me. I could see where this was going and I tried to remain distant, but God damn it, you can’t sleep with one person for months and not create a connection. And the worst of all, she also developed feelings for me.

As the deadline was drawing near and I kept my victory streak uninterrupted the only thing I could think of was how to get out of this mess. Do I leave Telin behind? Do I take her with me? If I take her with me it sure as fuck won’t be because of the contract. That thing relates only to me. So do I break the contract and try to get away with Telin – save my princess like some knight in bloody shining armour from a fairy tale? Or do I refuse to leave in the end?

Then it came. My last match. I won. No, I will not describe what happened, because I can barely remember myself. What came after the match, though, that is what will be stuck in mind for as long as I live.

The Marquise threw a grand celebration in my honour. I had an unbroken streak of victories for year and a day and that was pretty amazing, even for a plaything – those were her words. Many of the Gentry came, but also many like me, mortals who were trapped in this world. What I didn’t initially notice is that there were far more male mortals present than female. Heh, I see the realization dawning on your face, you can guess where this is going, can’t you? Yes, it happened. As a parting gift for me, the Marquise brought Telin and had her strip before the entire banquet hall. Then, while I watched, each and every one of the mortal men present had his way with her, to the grand amusement of the Fae.

I was furious. Despite all that was at stake and despite it being my last day I wanted to jump into them and tear them to pieces. I wanted to paint the entire hall in the blood of everyone present. I wanted to.

But I didn’t.

I mustered every ounce of self-control in my being and I watched. Just watched. I could see the disappointed grow on the face of my mistress with each man who mounted Telin. In the end the banquet was done to the great amusement of the Fae guests. Tomorrow I was freed, as per agreement. Just like how I don’t remember my trip to Arcadia, I don’t remember the trip out of it. Was I brought back to Earth or did I fight my way through the Hedge? I don’t know. I just know that at the moment when my wish of many years was fulfilled, I felt empty.

I didn’t even try to find my family again. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t picture myself returning to the normal life after what I let happen to Telin. In the end the Marquise continued to torment me even in my freedom.

I became a drifter, moving from town to town, city to city, doing odd jobs. It hasn’t actually been long since I was freed – I think it wasn’t even a full year. The world has changed a lot from the time of my kidnapping, even though it hasn’t been that many years. Only twenty. Still I managed to get used to it somewhat. Now I'm here, in New York. Not sure why though, but for some reason I felt I had to come. Like, every road I took seemed to take me here. So, here I am.

Personality:

I am what you call a socially awkward person. I wasn’t very good at communicating with strangers even before the time spent in Arcadia, and being put into an animal stall and forced to fight every day with practically no human interaction didn’t really help me either. Now you may say ‘Hey, you are talking to me just fine!’ and you’ll be right. People who I get close to and comfortable with I can talk to normally, but with somebody I meet for the first time or not very often I start speaking quickly, avoiding eye contact and occasionally stutter. Then I start thinking I am making a fool of myself and I begin messing up even more. Worst case scenario I get irritated and break someone’s neck. Never happened before but I came damn close.

Another thing I think is worth mentioning is that I am very selfish. Hah, didn’t surprise you at all, didn’t it. Yeah, I am my most important person. I will strive to make things easy and comfortable for myself and then, maybe, help others if it doesn’t inconvenience me. Do you think anyone but the most self-centred asshole would be able to do what I did and live with it? No, a real human would have left his bones back in that banquet hall. Still, I am not a backstaby sort. I am not going to trip you then walk over you on my way to success. I have no ambition or desire that would motivate me to such things. All I want is smooth sailing through life and others can go and become heroes or leaders or whatever the fuck it is they want to be. Just leave me alone and don’t bother me.

Skills:

My skills huh… Well, I am really good at killing things. Give me any weapon – swords, machetes, bats, sticks, knives, guns – or no weapon at all, and I’ll kill every fucker you put in front of me. I have years of experience at this job and I am somewhat proud to say that I became a bloody (both figuratively and literally) master of it. I have reflexes and strength to give any martial arts world champion a fight they’ll remember for as long as they live and that is if I obey the rules. In a fight with no rules besides ‘kill the other guy’ I am fucking invincible.

Also, my body is in as good condition as human body can possibly be. The matches in the Arena often weren’t straight-up fights but involved all manner of traps and obstacles, so I had to learn to climb, jump, lift, throw… You get the picture. I am not a contender for a medal on Olympics, but I dare say I am still far above average.

Then there’s the computer stuff. I told you already, I used to take interest in IT when I was in high school, and I have to say that seeing the progress made in that field during my stay in Arcadia only rekindled my interest in it. I am not actually very knowledgeable about the matter, to be honest, but I know some basic coding and I can hack into some weakly protected systems, so I can get some use out of it.

Lastly, I am good at making people scared. I just have to give them a direct eye-to-eye stare and repeat what I want slowly and they’ll be shitting their pants like they have diarrhoea. It doesn’t always get me what I want – sometimes they are so scared they faint or bail – but it is a good way to avoid things getting violent for real.

Supernatural Powers:

I am impossible to kill. Every time I suffer a lethal wound I will revert back to my peak condition in a few hours. Not sure if I am completely immortal, though, because I am pretty sure I aged during my time in Arcadia. Also, I won’t immediately heal non-lethal wounds no matter how gruesome they are. I had limbs severed and eyes gouged-out and I had to wait until I got killed before those injuries got healed. That is why I mentioned earlier that it’s the wounds that don’t kill me that really suck. Anyway, aside from this I don’t really have any other supernatural power. The rest of my abilities are still firmly within the realm of human capabilities.

Weaknesses:

Heat. That’s my number one bane. No, not fire. Heat. The region of Arcadia I lived in was pretty chilly and it made me forget how hot summers on Earth can be. If the temperature is above 30 degrees Celsius I become very irritable and I can turn violent very, very easily, which leads me to the other thing…

I have violent tendencies. Although I strive to restrain myself as much as I can, if things don’t go my way or something bothers me for too long, I will snap and break something. Or someone. I have yet to kill somebody in one of my outbursts, but I have made more than one lasting injury since my return from Arcadia, not to mention the property damage. It’s a miracle I have not been arrested yet.

Possessions:

What I have in my backpack? Here, let me show you:

• A baseball bat. Never played the sport but this thing is good for hitting plethora of other things aside from balls.
• Then, there’s machete. I didn’t use it so far but some Fae are allergic to iron and you never know…
• Ah, a pistol. I am not sure what type. A glock? I mean, it looks like the most average pistol you can think off. Fuck man, I don’t have interest in this stuff. I stole it, so I only have one clip.
• Motorcycling gloves.
• A couple of Snickers bars, helps with self-control.
• I also have a smart phone with a charger. Stolen, of course. I use it mostly to surf the net when I manage to grab free Wi-Fi.
• A jacket.
• Matches.
• Sunglasses.
• A map of the US.
• A Swiss knife.
• A plastic water bottle, currently half-empty.

So that’s all, besides the stuff I wear on myself. Pretty basic, right?... What’s with that look?

Other:

It seems I have a very good metabolism because I’ve been eating mostly junk food since coming to Earth and I have yet to put on fat. Which is great, because I love junk food.

Back in my high school I used to love listening to metal. I still do, but I have also developed a taste for hip-hop, country and classic music.

I bloody hate arrogance and condescension. Nothing pisses me off more than when someone assumes he is better than you and patronizes you. I usually end up changing physical description of such people.

Hope I didn't go overboard with some stuff... ^^"

[BubblegumQueen]

@MedjedovicWow... so far, your character is pretty interesting.

[Pathfinder]

@Medjedovic
Yo, thats pretty damn horrific but are you sure it's under the Guilds guidelines?

[XxLyraxX]

@Sisyphus
I'll start working on a character then ^^