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    1. JulienJaden 9 yrs ago

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... How in the world did you even get here? Privacy means nothing to you, huh?

Well, since you're probably with the NSA anyway, I might as well tell you what you already know:
I'm a 25-year-old male university student from Germany. As a German, I take everything very seriously and have no humor. At all. Does not compute.

I'm not saying I'm a terminator but let's just say that there's a reason they picked an Austrian to play it - The German model wouldn't have failed. As an advanced roleplay machine, I do put a lot of effort into what I write and usually end up hating it later, but I do my best to keep it a high level of quality and quantity.

Of course, I'm joking. See? Germans have humor. Not when it comes to writing though - Roleplaying is no joking matter.

Most Recent Posts

@BluBlood Don't be silly. You have nothing to be bashful about and I've only returned to roleplaying two or three months ago after not writing anything worthwhile in two years or more.

Anyway, you have my IC post. And please let me know whether you want to make a character or not for that other RP, once you've made up your mind. :)
"Bring my sister? And have her see me drunk like this?", he laughed, some of his words coming out slurred. Nadine wasn't wrong - the best part of the night was already over for him; it was all downhill from here.
"And 16 is a little early for college parties if I have anything to say about it."

Mary... Sweet, innocent little Mary. A lot of big brothers and parents liked to imagine their sisters and daughters to be virtue personified but his sister really was something else. He had spent his fair share of time around girls of every kind, from those who would go down on somebody after a couple of drinks to those that were caring, smart and even romantic, but he had never met anyone as fragile and friendly as his sister; she seemed just a little too good for this world, always honest, always cheerful. Their parents' deteriorating marriage had been painful to watch for him but it must have been hell for her. For all the emotional damage it did to them, they ended up being very close for siblings which didn't make moving away for college easier. But this divorce had brought out the worst in his parents and even though they had seen it coming, it still was kind of a shock. He had spent his first few days back home - which really meant his mother's house now - in Mary's room, trying to get her to come outside with him. It took weeks but by the time he left, she seemed almost back to normal.

All of that came rushing back to his memory when he heard Nadine ask about his disappearance as he handed her a cup of booze. Gabriel knew that he probably should have stopped drinking for the night but these thoughts made him notice the taste of bile and a hint of the smell and there wasn't anything else to wash it down with, so he did and gave his female company a hint of a smile.

"Well, I had to go take care of some things at home. Remember what I told you about my parents splitting?"
He shrugged and took another sip.
"Anyway, I lost my phone back there and I couldn't remember your cell number. Shit, I couldn't remember anybody's number. It took me a week to just run into somebody who could help me with that. I've been to just about any place we used to hang out at but I just didn't run into you."

Back then, he had been aching to talk to her. Sure, he had some older than friends than her but he had never talked to them about really personal, difficult stuff. The first time they met, they ended up walking around town until the early morning hours, talking about this and that as their highs mellowed out and the alcohol wore off. There was so much to catch up about but now that he saw her again, he wasn't sure where to begin.

God only knew what brought his mind to think of that particular shared experience but it made him grin and ask:
"Hey, remember Dr. Price's course? Are you still into that voodoo magic stuff?"
@Atrophy I am everywhere. :P
@Kingfisher@Lexicon Sounds like a plan - perhaps a mix of both?

Lexicon, how about you PM me when you're done with your character and see how the two will go about their genderbent mirror image? XD
Heya folks.
Finally got my character up.

Anybody looking for somebody to play their character against/with?
Name/Nicknames: Francis Cain

Race: Human/Mage/Pyromancer

Age: 69 (Physically - 39)

Appearance:

6 feet 3 inches tall, with an overall understated toned figure. Light, rosy skin. Short-ish black hair with grey mixed in, intense iceblue eyes. A thick, well-kept black-and-grey beard covers most of his face. The wrinkles around his eye and grey hair reveal his true age, despite his otherwise almost youthful appearance.
Francis wears a dark grey suit with a matching trilby and beige trenchcoat. Underneath these clothes, he has two scars: One on the left side of his chest, just above the heart, and a second one on just an inch to the right of his belly button.

Personality:
Francis has seen quite a lot in his life so far, leaving him calm and collected in virtually all situations but also disillusioned about many things. Where some cling to moral concepts that are black and white, he has shifted into the grey. Granted, he wouldn't stand idly by while somebody was murdered but given the right incentive, he doesn't shy away from brutality. His cynical humor and a tendency towards self-destruction make him an 'interesting' companion. But underneath a thick, rough skin, he still wants to believe that people can be good - his loyalty is difficult to earn but almost unshakeable.

Bio:
Francis Cain grew up in one of the darkest corners of Santa Somabra, son to a prostitute and an unknown john. Surrounded by poverty, hopelessness and violence from day one, he got used to yelling and sobbing as a part of day-to-day life but also learned a fascinating truth: That even at their absolute lowest, some people, such as his mother and a few of the women around her, held on to their kindness. Their efforts might have made his childhood almost happy if not for a particularly unfortunate circumstance to add to the long list: Around age 4, he displayed first signs of a magic affinity; fires flickered when he as much as looked at them or flared up when he was angry and his eyes glowed like embers as it happened. Rumors spread in days and branded him as an outsider who, as luck would have it, instilled just a little too much fear in the people around him to be picked on or killed, as magic users often were. It gave him the time he needed to learn how to not only control flames but summon them at will, though the full extent of his powers remained his secret.

Once he was 17, he lingered not a moment longer and left the city, drifting from town to town, looking for friends, love, a purpose, knowledge both magical and mundane, in a word: A life. He found some of these things here and others there but they fell to pieces every time and so he stayed on the move for almost 15 years until Francis caught wind of his mother's death. Granted, they had been distant due to his absence but their relationship had always been cordial and her death hit him hard. With her death and his return to a city that might as well have been a warzone, he thought he had finally found a purpose when he decided to join the Santa Somabra Police Department.

It seemed like that was the place where he could make a difference, where knowing how bad life could be in this town would allow him to help those in need. But he soon had to realize that the police was too corrupt to do their work when the rich and powerful were involved, looking the other way when city council members kidnapped little girls for their own sick pleasures, but also were too powerless to fight the gangs and their own brand of justice on their own turf. He caught a bullet in the service to the city that birthed him, worked on the murder cases nobody else was interested in, tried to do good however he could but after 20 years, he gave up on the force.

Instead, he opened his own detective agency in an attempt to do some real good, or so he told himself. A few years down the line, his past assignments covered the classics - shadowing unfaithful spouses, finding missing persons et cetera - but also some less-than-legal ones like contract killing, avoiding jobs that would get him in trouble with the major gangs or that would be undeniably evil. Avoiding... but not always managing to - a fact that weighed heavily on his conscience and fueled drinking and smoking habits.

To him, finding the reasons behind the string of murders was a little bit of both - a regular job to make ends meet and an attempt to get back in touch with what he had originally set out to do as a private eye.

Other:
- Possesses a pistol and is an excellent shot with it.
- Knows his way around a fistfight.
- Pyromancy (creating and controlling fire at will) - his pupils glow bright gold and orange when he uses his power.
- Extensive Knowledge about the occult, spells, charms, rituals, wards and potions that require preparation but usually prove a powerful asset.
- Keen observation and deduction skills.
- Has connections to all gangs and some friends on the police, giving him an advantage when it comes to gathering information and wiggling his way out of trouble but making any direct conflict extremely risky and something he avoids whenever he can.
- Chain smoker.
- Heavy drinker.
Weekend? *checks calendar* It's Monday. I went to work today, so it's Monday. XD

But thank you, same to you! :)

It is. I've never had this happen before. It was the first thing I noticed when I opened the thread - that you had @mentioned me and there was no notification.
I'd go pester the mods and admin about it but that wouldn't be very Christmas-y. ^^"

@BluBlood

It does work, right? You did get a notification from this message?

Anyway, my post is up. And it reveals that I can't start conversations on parties. XD
Jesus Fucking Christ, what did I drink?

Whatever it was that had turned Gabriel's stomach over to the devil who saw fit to fill it with evil spirits - well, maybe just spirits - didn't account for the instant exorcism every college student was familiar with: Banishing Satan in a graceful projectile arc, straight into the sink, just barely missing the woman he bumped into on his hasty, wobbly way to salvation and almost pinned down right in the middle of it.

The power of vomit compells you!

The smell was otherworldly, or so Gabriel was told the next day. One of the benefits of being shitfaced drunk, although this recent incident that raised the volume in the kitchen tenfold by educing "Eww"s and "Wow"s from those present lowered his alcohol levels and heightened general awareness of his surrounding.
Despite this unappetizing episode, he felt great. December was a magical time when Christmas and New Year's seemed like an impenetrable bulwark against every worry, deadline and exam that awaited you in a few brief weeks; it was the time when roommates seemed to be less dickish, girls were willing to have "one last fling" before their New Year's resolution to "never sleep around again" and families came together.

Well, the last part wasn't exactly true for Gabriel Salem but that made being drunk more enjoyable: Ignorance is, don't you know it, bliss, meaning that the more ignorant you are, the more blissful you become; if there was one equation he could relate to, it was this.
The only flaw in this otherwise perfect logic was that he found himself in strange places with no recollection of how he got there, in this case just outside the backdoor, with an unobstructed view of a landscape covered in white. He didn't feel the cold creep up his fingers and under his shirt, didn't sense the shivers that took hold of his body.
Inside, he was still and took in the sight before him, the trees and hills and city lights in the distance, all made ethereal by the snow and moonlight. Ending up in somebody's bed was one thing but this, the feeling of witnessing a subtle and yet majestic sight, was one of the reasons he always had another drunk night out, no matter how badly the one before had ended. He loved and hated the bottle; it was like an abusive girlfriend he kept going back to for that one kiss, that one night that would happen every now and then and seemed to make it all worthwhile. Or was it more like an abusive parent?

But now that the shaking was getting too bad and he heard his teeth clatter as he produced clouds of vapour, Gabriel turned away from the vista and returned inside, only to bump into the same woman again as before.
Only this time, he recognized her:
"Natalie?"

Their eyes met and, yes, there was recognition in those eyes but also confusion. Was she raising an eyebrow? The strobe light made it hard to tell. Wait... No, it's not Natalie, it was... Fuck, what was her name again?
She probably hadn't even heard him over the music, or so he hoped. This time, he leaned down to her ear and yelled:
"Nadine? It's good to see you!"

Yes, he remembered her. They had had a few courses together the year before and became fast friends. But that year, just before finals, his parents' divorce was finalized and his sister had a breakdown over it, so he dropped everything and left. That in itself wouldn't have been an issue if he hadn't lost his phone and had a crap memory for numbers. He was bound to run into her sooner or later but after months, he had pretty much given up on her.

"Fuck, I've been trying to get in touch forever! You want a drink?"
You know what's weird? The forum didn't give me the usual notification for my name being mentioned. Had to check your posts to even find the thread. ^^"

I'm not entirely sober but I'll see if I can whip up a post to keep you busy. :P
McTavish didn't react, gazing at her with... with what? His rough, unfamiliar features made it hard for the girl to identify whether it was curiosity, indifference or something else entirely. Ellie was confused at his silence and passiveness but only for a moment. What was it he had said? 'Wait for your orders.'
It seemed that he wouldn't move a muscle until Duela demanded it and allowed them to go on their scouting run.

It was Cassandra who spoke up, defending Lux's reasoning, even if not her bold action, and before Ellie knew it, Cassandra stood next to her, a hand on her shoulder. Ellie couldn't remember ever looking seeing her up close like this. Even in what little visibility the night offered, she could make out her features, a scar at her lower lip and her clean, white hair that seemed to have an ethereal glow in the pale light. But despite her friendly tone, her words felt like she had swallowed needles, angrily tugging at her insides.
Why wouldn't I go with them? If Aaron didn't think I was up for this, he would have told me to stay back, like in town.

Cassandra's offer to take her along on a patrol instead would have sounded much more appealing if it didn't feel like she was uncertain of her skills and Ellie was tempted to give in to her stubbornness and decline, her headache adding fuel to that particular fire.
But she knew better than to start a fight over something stupid like this. Three people were quite a portion of the group, all things considered, both Aaron and Lux know more about scouting and sneaking than her and now wasn't the time to be irrational and angry. She liked Cassandra and she had been hoping to get to know her a little better on this mission. Maybe going on a patrol with her wasn't so bad after all.

She nodded, but just then, John seemed to have another idea about who would scout and stay and Duela seemed to be pondering still. But at least Ellie had made up her mind:
"I'll go with you", she told Cassandra.
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