Member
I think I'm going to be dropping out right now. I don't feel like I have enough interest to continue this.
- Last Seen: 16 days ago
- Joined: 8 yrs ago
- Posts: 2227 (0.77 / day)
- VMs: 9
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Username history
- Lady Selune 8 yrs ago
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Status
Recent Statuses
4 yrs ago
Current
roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
1
like
6 yrs ago
Roleplay man, roleplay man, does whatever a roleplay can. Does he write? Not at all. He brings plots to a stall, look out... He’s a fucking ghost.
18
likes
7 yrs ago
I hate websites that tell you an email is wrong whilst you're trying to type it out. CALM YOUR TITS, I'VE NOT PUT IN THE FUCKING @ ADDRESS YET, NO SHIT IT'S NOT VALID.
16
likes
7 yrs ago
Does anyone else see a word spelt totally correctly and think 'that can't be fucking right, I've messed something up.'
23
likes
8 yrs ago
When life gives you lemons, don’t make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don’t want your damn lemons, what the hell am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life’s manager!
19
likes
Most Recent Posts
Age: 24
Race: Human
Primary Attribute: Shadowy
Secondary Attribute: Persuasive
Connections:
Masters of the Bazzar - She steers clear. If she must buy something, that is what she does. Otherwise, she doesn't exactly casually talk to them. Through Lady Monica though, she has extensive contact with them, not that she feels very at ease next to them.
Bohemians - One can't help but enjoy their art, can they not? And besides, many are so willing to let her fawn over them- although they always turn up curiously penniless after her affections wane.
Constables - You're joking, yes?
Criminals - Many, deep, and varied connections. She is a criminal, after all.
Hell - She's run a few jobs for them. Not eager to do so again, unless the pay is worth it, which it usually is.
Revolutionaries - Thanks to Monica, she steers clear of these folk. Not that she doesn't have some dealings with them, but she makes a token effort to stay away.
Rubbery Men - Brr. They give her the creeps and she tries not to think about them.
(High) Society - She consorts with them often. Very often.
Church - She says her prayers, crosses herself and believes in God. That's... Pretty much it.
Docks - Zailors are always down for a little bit of gambling, a lot of drinking, and aren't always quick when it comes to having their pay filched. She appreciates them.
The Great Game - A pawn, albeit one that has aspirations of being a lot more.
Tomb Colonies - With age comes wisdom. With which comes skill. With which comes an ability to make her dead over and over. She stays away.
Urchins - A few coins, and all the little birdies suddenly chirp to you for an hour. And that's all you need.
Background: Like many of the shadowy members of the Neath, not a lot is known about the good Mademoiselle's past. She wears good dress, carries herself like a man, and with a certain confidence to her step, and is known to have accomadation at the very edge of Watchmaker's Hill, where she makes a number of pocketwatches the few times she is not busy. When she is busy, she's either stalking the streets of Spite to get a rostygold ring or a whispered secret. If not that, then she's at Moloch or Veilgarden, gathering information for her... Well, it's not quite clear what exactly her relationship with Lady Monica is, but she does serve her, at least nominally.
That being said, what is known is that she claims to hail from France, and has the name and a certain exotic attitude to match with it.
Her accent doesn't quite seem to fit her claimed home country however, and she's always keeping an eye behind her- but weather this be thanks to spending too long in the 'Neath, and the standard nervous flitting that anyone that has accumulated enemies carries out is anyone's guess.
Race: Human
Primary Attribute: Shadowy
Secondary Attribute: Persuasive
Connections:
Masters of the Bazzar - She steers clear. If she must buy something, that is what she does. Otherwise, she doesn't exactly casually talk to them. Through Lady Monica though, she has extensive contact with them, not that she feels very at ease next to them.
Bohemians - One can't help but enjoy their art, can they not? And besides, many are so willing to let her fawn over them- although they always turn up curiously penniless after her affections wane.
Constables - You're joking, yes?
Criminals - Many, deep, and varied connections. She is a criminal, after all.
Hell - She's run a few jobs for them. Not eager to do so again, unless the pay is worth it, which it usually is.
Revolutionaries - Thanks to Monica, she steers clear of these folk. Not that she doesn't have some dealings with them, but she makes a token effort to stay away.
Rubbery Men - Brr. They give her the creeps and she tries not to think about them.
(High) Society - She consorts with them often. Very often.
Church - She says her prayers, crosses herself and believes in God. That's... Pretty much it.
Docks - Zailors are always down for a little bit of gambling, a lot of drinking, and aren't always quick when it comes to having their pay filched. She appreciates them.
The Great Game - A pawn, albeit one that has aspirations of being a lot more.
Tomb Colonies - With age comes wisdom. With which comes skill. With which comes an ability to make her dead over and over. She stays away.
Urchins - A few coins, and all the little birdies suddenly chirp to you for an hour. And that's all you need.
Background: Like many of the shadowy members of the Neath, not a lot is known about the good Mademoiselle's past. She wears good dress, carries herself like a man, and with a certain confidence to her step, and is known to have accomadation at the very edge of Watchmaker's Hill, where she makes a number of pocketwatches the few times she is not busy. When she is busy, she's either stalking the streets of Spite to get a rostygold ring or a whispered secret. If not that, then she's at Moloch or Veilgarden, gathering information for her... Well, it's not quite clear what exactly her relationship with Lady Monica is, but she does serve her, at least nominally.
That being said, what is known is that she claims to hail from France, and has the name and a certain exotic attitude to match with it.
Her accent doesn't quite seem to fit her claimed home country however, and she's always keeping an eye behind her- but weather this be thanks to spending too long in the 'Neath, and the standard nervous flitting that anyone that has accumulated enemies carries out is anyone's guess.
As you know, my dashing, exploding top hat wearing rogue shall be in attendance.
Blitzen couldn't help it. She just couldn't. As soon as she heard that she would be working with other people, and as soon as she saw the blood splatter all across the floor, her head lolled back and she let out a mighty laugh. But this was no normal laugh, no. It was a laugh that seemingly couldn't fit into her small frame, a long, high-pitched cackle that split ears around the bar.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-"
a brief moment for her to take a breath, and then she returned to the laugh "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA."
The laugh trailed off a little bit, and she drained the weissbeir that she had in her hand and wiped the foam away, giggling at the top of her lungs. "Vhell! My name is Blitzen Kreigen meine Kamaraden. And, as zhou can see..."COME OUT LITTLE DEMON!
Her tentacles burst out of her back, the elongated purplish-black limbs smashing into the bar top and the ground. "My codename is Kraken! Bechause vhen you release me, I cannot exhactly be rechained. Ahahahahahahahahahahaaaaa!" Was she mad? Oh, yes, very much so. But she was a nazi! Nazis were allowed to get a little mad, were they not? She couldn't help it if she ended up cackling a little. And stabbing people with her weapons. And shooting them. "I zhink it is a marvellous- Wait, vhich svinehunds am I going to be vorking vith exachlty here?"
I'm going to have to pull out of this one. Sorry folks.
(Psst something's wrong with de Discord.)
T H I C C P L A N E T
Important disclaimer: Not a nazi, not a racist, not a homophobe.
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