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5 yrs ago
69
2 likes
5 yrs ago
@LetsFly I'm still big gay. Found a poetry circle in my city so cool I might not do RPs for a while.
5 yrs ago
Letty, my mood is all Cacedas and gose. What's your mood?
5 yrs ago
Yikes Crew Stands for LeeRoy, he most in denial.
2 likes
6 yrs ago
@Poo How are mods selected? I don't even know.
1 like

Bio

I have been roleplaying for fifteen years through various formats from at the dinner table to PbP to RTC. I strongly prefer for mechanics to drive narrative in live roleplay sessions, but in PbP and RTC I'm creative enough that I prefer for creativity to drive narrative instead. To that end, you will probably never talk me into the tabletop subforum, and I can't imagine being dragged easily into Arena or Nation roleplays either.

Preferred size: Anything not exceeding 10 players. I've engaged in very chaotic and bloated playercounts for PbP before and am not eager to engage in that level of discord in the near future.
Preferred genres: Anything. I often enjoy having the opportunity to genre clash, a thing you will notice with my practice work in Expanding Horizons.
Preferred roles: I do not have the patience to build and maintain attractive hub posts for roleplays, which to me is a valuable skill... in GMs. I have co-GM'd in the past both officially and unofficially, and would be happy to do so again.
Quality standards: Any, though I do prefer to interact with players that have a firm understanding of english grammar.

Play Status: Seeking group RPs. Solicitations welcome. 1x1s considered on request, not guaranteed.
---Participant in Allaria: Chapter 5 ARP
---Found regularly practicing on Expanding Horizons PWRP

Most Recent Posts


Date: 2nd August 2017
Location: Streets of Manhattan, NYC
Time: 2:30 AM




The first drag always felt like the first time to Paulie. Every one after felt forced, a fling accidentally turned relationship because it was the thing to do. This is why she preferred to smoke with friends, passing rolled tobacco or pot around like a shared experience. It was just another example of community working itself into something to be wanted if you were looking. Alone, she had all of these singular instances where engaging felt like the first time every time. The next man she pulled into her van felt like the first man pulled into her van... and then he was every other man she'd pulled into her van.

The next friend she'd abducted at the end of a burn to take on an interstate journey for comfort felt like the first friend she'd abducted at the end of a burn to take on an interstate journey for comfort. Then, they were every other friend she'd abducted at the end of a burn to take on an interstate journey for comfort.

Paulie was sitting cross-legged on a street bench, laptop in front of her, her expression sleepy and pensive. She had a cigaratte in one hand and a homemade mug in the other. The mug held coffee from a vending machine and irish from a bottle in the backpack at her side. She was wearing some of Rozzle's clothes; a kaleidoscopic, baggy tie-dye t-shirt, manycolored patchwork baggy pants, and a pair of Simon's boots that fit her giantess feet. Music played faintly from a usb speaker plugged into her phone. Ms. John Soda, part of a playlist of their complete discography a friend had sent her some time ago.

On her screen was an open browser with a series of tabs. There were news reports about a killing spree in the streets of NYC and a detailed article about the train crash in Virginia from the previous day. There was also Paulie's custom browser for Guildserv, open to a few pages with to-the-minute intelligence reports detailing Dark Shadow's attacks. Paulie's custom browser encrypted everything behind walls of intermingled languages and syntax that her eyes could pick apart in a moment. It was one of those most precious secrets about her magic.

The next job she did for a secretive, draconian and dangerous magocratic entity with delusions of grandeur and a casual disregard for life felt like the first job she did for a mysterious, selective, and nobly misguided entity with relatable interests and a genuine concern for life. Then it was every other job she'd done for a secretive, draconion and dangerous magocratic entity with delusions of grandeur and a casual disregard for life.

It reminded her of being too stoned to stop.

Several years ago when she'd read about how The Guild had broken Dark Shadow's back, it was what brought out Paulie's sympathies in the first place. Yet more victims of the De Silva dynasty, whose crimes against mages and non-magi spanned almost three centuries back. It was why she was happy to work for Dark Shadow in secret and at a distance. She'd helped break a Guild cell upstate. She'd ousted an agent in Gainesville. She'd compromised the compound where they'd sequestered her for most of her teenage years in Virginia. How many of the people she'd screwed over were still alive if this was what Dark Shadow was actually capable of?

That was what had sent Paulie pulling Rozzle's pants on and running out the door without a phone or a word to anyone about where she was going. She still felt a sick little stone in her stomach, tunbling with the current of her thoughts. Getting inside NYC had been easy. Getting out wasn't going to be now that she'd logged onto Guildserv. She was trapped and she was trapped in a Dark Shadow cell. She was getting ready to joing their ranks as more than a faceless confidant. And that meant she was too useful to leave.

Paulie reviewed the reports again, pouring over each tab one at a time as the hour went on. A drunk tuxedo who appeared to be as in the mood to say and do nothing as she was had a seat on the bench beside her. Eventually she packed the mug in her backpack, then her laptop. She pressed her face into her hands, air hissing through her fingertips.

How do I play this out?

bang... bang...
Location: A well lit basement, somewhere
Time: 3:50 AM


BANG... BANG!


The next clip she emptied into a mannequin for target practice felt like the first clip she emptied into a mannequin for target practice. Then it was every other clip she'd emptied into a mannequin for target practice. It didn't matter how good your headphones were or how much the room you were in felt like a corporate grotto. You could feel the tension snap against your arms, round after round. You could watch flecks of plastic tear like hide canvas. You could, if you felt creative, stuff the mannequin parts with goosedown. It was a liberating experience every single time. It was more honest than people.

If nothing else, Aliira was right.

Paulie emptied the magazines from her pistols in a few quick motions, loading them again, safeties on, and stowing them back in her backpack. It hadn't been a good night. She didn't want to stay. Simon was getting worse. The pattern was thicker--every few minutes the conversation would flow one way and Simon was stone. It made her sick to think about now. Rozzle shouldn't be here. Paulie shouldn't be here. But they both had needed money, and Paulie owed Rozzle her time and protection. Her companionship.

If she was already this close, Paulie needed to stay the course. Rozzle at least was leaving today. That'd save her some time. Paulie knew she'd be meeting multiple mages from Dark Shadow, so she might as well be prepared. Paulie knew who her targets would be. She knew who her friends would be too and, if nothing else, The Guild knew to be on the lookout for her. Hopefully Aliira knowing Paulie's plans meant that Salem would know too, that her being seen in an operation would be just the sort of diversion necessary. It was just the kind of honesty she enjoyed best--the one where Paulie could be trusted to lie to everyone.
Pyronamciac420: There is one thing that pisses me off about listening to Sawbones though; we can't make a podcast about all of the things that we're only just now coming to understand about magic and how wrong everyone's been. Because we're fucking secretive. There's so much to look at throughout our history and just laugh. Why are all of our most accurate accounts of magical capabilities and history from ancient times? Somehow Jesus is the great distortion. People have always struggled to understand us, but if you want to know how things got so sour between mages and men, it far too often seems to come all the way back to the momentum of Jesus Christ and anti-antisemitism.
MilkyGrandpa: inb4 'Corpus invented industrial capitalism'.
Pyromanciac420: No, just colonialism.
Poet: *rolleyes*
MooseFrts4Frdm: ^
MilkyGrandpa: ^
Poet: It wouldn't be your podcast even if it was Mandate-compliant because you're so insufferably Western.
DankasaurusHex: fucking signed >XDDD
MilkyGrandpa: ^^^ Guildserv NA errdae..
MilkyGrandpa:
>I've finally figured it out guys
>Nopm you're whitr than Guildserv font
>Nobody's right
>Everybody gay
>I've actually figured it out guys!
>Nope still gay
>no u
Poet: Whole Milk Very Thick, I'm out.
Guildserv chatroom, 10/27/2011
"...previous course covered magical history at large. But there are just as many impotents that have had an influence on how we think about and use magic... and if you've been paying attention you can already guess some of the historic events I'll be covering in detail today. Advances in photography and videography and how they've shaped the way illusionists more quickly and accurately develop their abilities, microscope technology and how it facilitates development of magics dealing in biology and diminutive telekinesis... but think about this.

Aetheric studies from a technological perspective have always been extremely limited. Mages with the ability to see and manipulate aether can't lend their affinity to others, western and eastern magical doctrines still haven't resolved why aether and chi behave the same but are manipulated in drastically different ways after hundreds of years of being aware of their near sameness, and worst of all there aren't computers capable of performing the mathematical functions that aether works with... or, there weren't. Quantum computation does, though. And even in its infancy, VR has already proven that with the right tools new magical affinities can be taught. We may finally be reaching a breakthrough in the study of Aether of a magnitude equaling Euclidean Arcana or the Old Dynasty texts.

But by the end of this semester, you'll understand how all of this came to be.

Technomagical Synthesis is one of the only practical magical theories that has stood the test of time, and it was a theory posited separately by civilizations in ancient South America, Eurasia and Africa within less than two centuries of one another. Chronologically, ancient Central Ame..."
-Magical History And Culture 102: Technomagical Studies; Lecturer Danielle Rajaan
With GM approval... some inspiration for thinking more about how characters relate to the unfolding story.

Alignments in Magical Insurrection:

I hesitate to assign anything as strenuous as a traditional D&D alignment table to this RP as it's grounded in real world understandings of things like behavior and culture and ethics. However, I do think that there's an alignment table that has pretty significant implications and is narratively relevant.

1) The Means Of A Mage - The Ethical Scale
Lawful - Indifferent - Reformer


To any mage alive today, magical society is quite old, united by traditions, taboos, and tales that supersede ideologies risen from things like nationhood, religion, and ethnicity. In reality such ethical concerns have shaped what it has meant to be a mage just as readily as mages have from their peripheries shaped how such concepts view them. Mages alive today that are indifferent to this table either don't feel strongly enough to oppose or faithfully serve the Guild, or have decided that the status quo is unimportant to their goals in life (perhaps even beneficial, but ultimately without worth).

This is effectively a gauge for whether a character is:

Lawful - Satisfied with the status quo--that the Guild and its sister establishments in other regions are not only necessary, but beneficial to magic users, non-magi, or both. Lawful mage characters are not only happy to uphold the majority of Guild policies and mandates, but expect that behavior from other mages. They aren't sycophants, LAwful characters can certainly disagree with The Guild heirarchy, its methods, and even desire for it to change, but they'd rather be a voice from within the Guild's ethos than without.

or

Reformer - Reformer mages are actively opposed to the way things are in magical culture, whether it's where they live or where they see injustice. They may be opposed to the Magical Anonymity Mandate, the punishments they face for violating magical crimes, Traditional Magical Society at large (compare the generational dismay of newer generations with Western society), or any combination therein. Whatever their reasons, Reformers desire radical change in the magical community from without, may want to take active roles in shaping the future of that community, and might just want to watch the world burn.

2) The Merit Of A Man - The Sovereignty Scale
Humanist - Cooperator - Magocrat


Is nagic helpful? Is magic being held back by The Anonymity Mandate? Should magic's curators, covetors and practicioners be in charge of the direction life on Earth is headed given its dwindling resources and ecological instability? These are difficult questions, but ask a nage and they'll probably have something of an answer.

Humanist - Humanists, at their heart, believe that something is wrong with humanity. A humanist mage, at their heart, believes that something is wrong with themselves. Mage or mortal, a humanist believes that that something is magic. Magic is useful, certainly learning to use and control one's own magical affinity is necessary to a mage's survival, but it is dangerous or the life of a mage wouldn't be so perilous for themselves and others. Magic is powerful, but if power corrupts absolutely isn't magic just as hugely pernicious as money? Whether it results in adopting isolationist policies, thaumanthropy (like the Salem witch trials, etc), or just raw guilt, humanists have a hard time accepting magic as a part of life, let alone their personal lives. If push comes to shove, humanists believe that the world would be better off without magic. If the tension between non-magi and mages is any indication... the humanists might be right.

Cooperator - Magic is mysterious. Human affinities for it come in all sorts of flavors; rarely for instance do any two pyromancers see or shape flame in the same way. Magic also seems to respond to every new human invention, every new lifestyle. They interlace, and in any Cooperator's mind, you can't really have one without the other. Mages need to be able to work reality in the ways man kind otherwise can not, and humans have more time for the realities not even magic can change. Coexistence is at the heart of what cooperators believe about magic. Magic will always come back to surprise the world as it grows and changes, and magic will always fall short of solving the world's greatest problems.

Magocrat - Whatever you care to say about a mage, they have one thing non-mages don't: magic. Magic is power. Magic is influence. It's one of the most crucial forces in human life. It shaped our prehistory, pervades all of our most ancient cultures, and most importantly, dominated them. Ask a perfectly rational person how the Mongol Empire conquered most of Eurasia within the span of less than a half-century, and they'll be able to point to a number of socioeconomic factors, the state of warfare in many of the countries that fell, and use many of those examples to explain why what was known as the Mongol Empire seemed to evaporate just as quickly. A Magocrat will be quick to remind you of how readily accepted mages were in Mongol society, how enlightenment era ideals had a profoundly positive effect on how mages were viewed elsewhere, and how really the disappearance of the Mongol Empire was just mages staking the claims they'd always ibntended to make in the first place. And there'll be grains of truth in each of their points. Whether anonymous or apparent, Magocrats believe that mages should rule men and that magic should rule mankind--and many of them are just as likely to believe that it always has.
Note: Poet and Luka will be getting a Collab post that we can probably hammer out by Wednesday that will serve either as Luka's intro--in a capacity where he can play off of Poet for a deeper intro than he might've otherwise had the opportunity to do--or as a flare post between the two of them to orient everyone around their respective power sets, that will then lead into Luka's intro post. We're playing it by ear and you'll hear from one of us before posts hit what it becomes.

Good luck on the collab spree. I'm hyped as all get out for this to come to the fore. Thanks again to @jakeb1993 for keeping this dream alive so we can have another go of it. Thanks to everyone for getting involved (what an embarrassment of good good twenty-somethings) and thanks to @HaleyTheRandom for sharing the weight of GMing this big ol' steamboat.

News: I'm about 90% committed to a very hectic move where internet is going to be weird for at least a month. I'm fairly certain I can swing continuing the arpee since this is the only one om my plate, but I want everyone to know well in advance that after next week Collabs might be somewhat more difficult for me to nail down time for. With the fortnightly schedule things should be good though.



Date: 1st August 2017
Location: Gordon's Gas'n Grocery, NE Pennsylvania
Time: 4:40PM




Everything was hot. It was the kind of heat she'd expected to live in on the road: latent, awful soup heat. It was the kind of soup that condensed in her skull and poured out of her ears. It rolled down her sides, moist and steamy and stinking of pot and wild yeists and mud but she could retreat into her van and watch the world run past her on the road. The sensation wasn't overbearing because reprieve was just a key turn away. The drama of moisture and warmth coming from the world and not just other people could be left to other people.

But her van's air conditioning had died in the night, and now she had to stop in the middle of nowhere because, in all likelyhood, her van's front axle had cracked again. Even if Mani were here he'd not patch the axle a second time. No sane mechanic would. She would have to replace it. This, the air conditioning, and the waning transmission. And maybe the driver.

"James says we have to start moving again soon."

...and Rozzle.

Paulie didn't move, her face still pressed into her folded arms. She was laying out on the browning grass in the empty lot beside parking for Gordon's station, face down. There had been good rains all over the northeast this year, but Gordon's was in an almost fifty mile patch experiencing this weird micro-drought. The surrounding woodlands and pastures seemed one accidental spark short of a brushfire. And here was Rozzle walking up with her tenth cigarette of the afternoon. Paulie winced into her arms, shaking her head and mumbling unintelligibly.

"Oh come on, cheer up! You can pack up your shit in like, ten minutes. We squeeze into Nancy's bus and hit the city limits a little after sundown." Chipper as a sunbeam in a winter storm. Paulie felt a weight against her lower back as Rozzle flopped onto the ground and rested her head. "James can tow your van to his parents' place in Rhode Island. You head west for a trimming season, save up, fix everything by the end of next spring."

A part of Paulie wanted to reach back and shove Roz away. But it wasn't as though Roz could actually make Paulie feel any warmer than she already did. Besides, a much larger part of Paulie still wasn't sure she could function without knowing Rozzle was near by. She needed Roz when she saw Simon tonight; someone to ease the tension. Paulie lifted her head to prop her chin on her arms, staring out at the empty highway. From her vantage point she could see Nancy's converted school bus and James' truck side by side in the parking lot, over a dozen people crowding around and busying themselves while everyone waited for Mister Gordon to tell them what they already knew. Paulie's van was fucked.

"Rozzle... Nancy hates me." Paulie said, watching a pair of Nancy's weird cult people wrestle with one another. Wirey young men tumbling in the tall, browning grass. She and Rozzle had shared an evening with one of them. His movements now reminded her of his movements then. Rozzle followed her gaze, not really seeing what Paulie was seeing. Rozzle was like that, present for everything.

"Yeah, but she looooves me." Roz cooed. Pauling felt Roz rolling onto her side to look at the back of her head. She ran a hand through Paulie's mess of corn husk hair and started scritching gently at her scalp. "It's like, three hours to New York from here. Preeeetty sure she owes me that much for keeping her so comfy during tear-down." Paulie moaned something between mirth and disgust, closing her eye and delighting in Roz's touch.

They rested like that for a minute or two, Roz sitting up after a while to scratch with both hands at Paulie's back, digging nails deep. Then Paulie opened her eyes as Herb Gordon's voice rang out from his little garage.

"Yup! Your van is fucked! I dunno how ya'll got it here with this axle in one piece!" For being open fifteen years somehow Herb still had his accent, a southern drawl so twangy it reminded Paulie of her cousins on Sand Mountain.

It was still putting her back up, so obvious that Roz squeezed her shoulders comfortingly before rising from the ground. Paulie pushed herself up to her knees, looking through her mop of blonde hair over at James whom, like the rest of the convoy, was looking over at her. He was the calm center of a small little crowd of mournful faces sharing a sudden and pointed silence.

Then Nancy came out of the store with her daughter in her arms. Nancy was the big, billowy, bosomy whirlwind leading this mad tornado of people back to their homes. Her daughter was wailing, an appropriately timed funeral dirge for Paulie's van. She didn't want to go west again this year. She wanted to stay in one place for more than a month for once. She didn't want her van.

Maybe it was the sheer discomfort of the situation, or maybe she just needed to mourn for a little bit. Paulie wasn't going to fix her van, and sitting there in the dead grass and dirt, with Rozzle offering her a hand, she started to cry.


Date: 1st August 2017
Location: Simon's Penthouse Suite, Queens NY, USA
Time: 11:30PM



Paulie and Rozzle sat against the wall across from Simon's door, leaning against one another, Rozzle's phone murmuring with today's stories from All Things Considered. Paulie was barely listening to the story, just concentrating on the smell of Rozzle's pungent odor and her weight. Rozzle leaned up for another kiss; anything to keep Paulie present. Paulie couldn't remember the last time she'd gone more than a few minutes in a city without Blanking. This had been the most uncomfortable night of her life, having to pay for food and talk to everyone she needed something from. It had to be worth it to keep Rozzle here. It was the strongest connection to her normal life she'd had. Rozzle had been around since Paulie's first burn. She meant everything.

"...Virginia today." Paulie snapped out of it, jerking her lips away from Rozzle and staring blankly at nothing, listening to the radio stream. Rozzle moaned and tried to pull Paulie back in but Paulie reflexively butted her head at Rozzle's chin gently. The girl laughed, leaning back against the wall with a resigned grin as they listened.

"Confirmed reports state that only five people died from the crash, but many more are still presently in critical condition at several local hospitals. Among the dead are three civilians, one of the documentary employees on site that day and former congressman and Secretary of Defense John Sinclair. A viral video of the accident has already made its way through social media, with several outlets hosting the video file after multiple youtube uploads were taken down for--"

The elevator down the hall made its ding'n shuffle, drawing Paulie and Rozzle's eyes. Simon strolled out into the corridor, with two friends of his Paulie had met beforehand and one she hadn't. They all teetered behind Simon in various states of intoxication as she stood up, helping Rozzle to her feet. Simon just looked at them, his crew noisily making their way into the apartment. He closed the door behind they and Rozzle, who threw herself into the mix like the relentless lapdog she was. Simon just stared down at her for a few moments, Paulie staring back, each of them defiant.

"Look, I can explain,' they said in unison. Paulie guffawed and fell back against the wall laughing, and Simon looked away in that sheepish way he did when he felt guilty about something, ginger curls hiding most of his face.

It's going to be a good night. Paulie thought, grinning. She leaned down to pick up a couple of luggage bags, Simon following to help her as they began to tell each other the stories about their day. Paulie's van. Simon's latest production gig. Rozzle's hands. One small story after another, each wrapping the sharp stone that floated between them... burying it as the night carried on into early morning.

Maybe things would work out.


Date: 2st August 2017
Location: Simon's Penthouse Suite, Queens NY, USA
Time: 7:00AM




"Maybe things don't need to work out." Rozzle said, thick clouds of smoke churning from her mouth as the first morning's toke left her. She was about to say more but found herself with a coughing fit and leaned across the small patio table to hand Paulie the joint. Paulie took it up and had her second toke, closing her eyes to just bask in the sensation as she leaned back in her chair, face to the smoggy, glowing heavens above. Seconds holding the breath, then she exhaled slow through her nostrils.

Both of them were wearing matching grey-blue sheets, tired-eyed and slow to move. Paulie's expression was a softening sullen, her nose full of the stink of good herb and the bagels she'd walked out for earlier in the morning. Rozzle just looked hateful. She hadn't liked Simon. She hadn't liked any of Simon's friends. It kept reminding Paulie that she didn't really like Simon or his friends either. It hurt, not liking Simon. But she wasn't going west. It stopped being about liking anybody when she knew that.

"Things don't need to work out," Paulie yawned, sitting back up in a dejected slouch. "I just need Simon to get my foot in the door. This gig could mean connections with a lot of influential people. Apparently there's some hubub tonight. Simon wants me to meet someone and if I do a little dance that someone will get me where I need to go with whom I need to be. But it's gonna be a minute." Her expression turned to a wan smile, "adjusting to normal people time is gonna be a minute too."

Paulie leaned forward to pass her joint back to Roz, and then finally had her first bite of bagel. Roz had made up a cream cheese, bacon and sriracha spread. "To forestall munchies," she had explained. That was probably going to work out. Paulie chortled with delight as Rozzle flashed a devious smile mid-toke, watching Paulie's expression enliven as she chewed. The two of them dissolved into a fit of giggles.

The morning passed like this for a couple of hours as they grazed on bagels and coffee and baby carrots and talked about their plans. They talked about where they'd meet up next, who was picking up Rozzle today, whether she would still be in town (she was heading up-state), and how likely it was that Paulie would get the job... all of this while Simon and his friends busied themselves sobering up or making their own breakfast or joining Roz and Paulie on the patio to swipe a bagel and make a pass at one or both of them. Where Rozzle had been languid and coy the night before, she was sharp as a knife and attentive as a badger this morning. It was comforting to watch her take charge like that, and Paulie just let Rozzle take over until they left.

Eventually it was just the three of them, with Simon nervously smoking and leaning over the balcony as if waiting for something.

"Didn't you say it'd be like, another two hours before Luka gets here?" Paulie asked, absent-mindedly scrolling down a news article on her phone. Rozzle had decided to change out on the patio, rolling on a blue tank top and donning a green-plaid button down shirt... left unbottoned.

"Yeah, but..." Simon sighed, exasperated with himself as he turned to look back at the two of them, "Luka freaks me out, you know? Like if True Blood did an L Word crossover episode or something."

"What, so he's a hot androgynous vampire?" Paulie quipped.

"Does he sparkle?" Rozzle asked, looking up from her bluejeans, only halfway up her legs. Rozzle knew the situation, took Paulie at her word that she could do magic. But she still had no idea what that really meant. So her question was serious--serious enough that Paulie didn't even laugh, waiting expectantly for Simon to answer.

"No, he doesn't fucking sparkle," Simon scoffed, "he just... he's exactly an androgynous vampire. Like a Vlad from League of Legends kinda deal, but very Russian. Freaks me right out." Simon's expression was turning pale just thinking about Luka. It wasn't the first time Paulie had seen it. Simon was very uncomfortable either thinking about or being around men he considered effeminate. It was cute in a sad sort of way. But it was embarrassing now, with Rozzle there.

"Vlad's the guy who shoots blood at people and stuff, yeah?" Rozzle pulled her pants up, buttoning and zipping before looking up at Simon again.

"Yeah. That is what I'm talking about." Simon said, then took another drag from his cigarette. He also grabbed another fistful of baby carrots too, popping one into his mouth. That was something Paulie and Simon had bonded over back when they'd first met. Now it was just another resentment. Just a little bit of sourness and Paulie was already hating him for liking any of the things they liked. What the hell was her problem?

"You couldn't pick a more fitting spokesperson for The Bad Guys if you actually just called him Vlad and straight up gave him a Vampire House from World of Darkness." Rozzle said, stretching now that she was fully dressed and yawning silently.

"I mean, he's a nice guy... just really looks the part. Like, a lot." Simon had another bite of carrot then.

--August 2nd 2017, 11:40AM

Rozzle left shortly after, goodbye kisses for everyone, and then she was heading down the elevator. Simon and Paulie still had some time to shoot the shit and so they did, playing a couple games of League while they waited for the new arrival. They were spread out around the living room, Paulie hunched over a coffee table and facing the door Luka would be coming through, her laptop and mouse in front of her. She was already blanked, just waiting for Luka to show so she could begin her audition.
CS finalized. Reviewing the story so far before making my intro post.
Here's the proposed changelist for Poet

Importantly, Paulie doesn't actually know any members of Dark Shadow apart from Simon, an NPC under my care. With that in mind, all of her knowledge of different Dark Shadow members will be blatantly false when it isn't carefully chosen to betray nothing about what Dark Shadow is capable of. Simon is effectively Paulie's groomer. And this is important, as Paulie is still technically a Guilder, with rudimentary access to their intelligence networks and their private social network. She is a known dissident at present, nothing pointing to her involvement with Dark Shadow.

Her beginning in the story will consist of meeting Dark Shadow mages for the first time and making up her mind about whether she wants to commit fully to their side, admit that life as a Guilder is her best option, or perhaps choose a third path.

With that aside, changes to her CS include the following:




Alignment Change: Guild Member(Strained), Dark Shadow Recruit (In grooming)


Anyone looking over Paulie's CS at present who sees an opportunity for a relationship they like, feel free to hmu.

Everybody approve? If so, I'll update my CS and slide this all in.
I personally like what I see. Though for future reference, please put Character Sheets (Especially WIP forms) in the OOC so we can approve them first.

You have the go-ahead from me to move forward.

WHOOPS! You are totally right. Pardon my excitement. Have snipped my CS post for now and will put it back once approved.


That being said, enough of the plot is starting from the same place as before that all I really need to do is update relationships for the new cast. Will get started tomorrow.
CS is up. Updates pending. Let me know if I'm good to move forward. Also let me know if I should brush up my magic set--not sure how favorably they compare to the new cast, but I still like it as is.
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