Lady Selune

A Mediterranean FxF Slice of Life

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Lady Selune is Looking For: Complete Degenerates Only [Always Looking]

FOR SHIZZLE MY NIZZLE. SICKNESS HAS FEMALE BLUE BALLED ME. I NEED MORE WANKERS TO WANK WITH.

Hellpact

Elementary, poppet.

Elizabeth Solomon

"Follow your spirit, and upon this charge, cry out to whatever you hold dear."

Name: Elizabeth Solomon
Alias: Emma Shaw, Eliza O’Connor, Eli Mannings
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Nationality: English, Irish Descent
Appearance: Elizabeth is a relatively unassuming figure. She is slight, stands at 5’9 feet tall, with red hair that borders on ginger, and pale eyes. She is fair skinned, with a smattering of freckles, but dresses conservatively. A turtleneck sweater, or a long coat and warm jumper are what she prefers, with perhaps a pair of jodhpurs or bush pants for comfort and much-wanted pockets. Finally, she wears a pair of rather hipster-ish glasses, which she cleans religiously. Her teeth aren't quite meticulous- they're a slight off-white colour, and whilst they were clearly straightened in the past, they've partially reverted a little, and are almost imperceptibly crooked. Her nails are almost never painted, although they're neatly trimmed and cut, and she has minimal blemishes apart from her freckles- certainly no acne scars. Her ears are pierced, but it seems to be almost entirely random as to if she wears something in them, and she's a fan of minimalist, but apparent, makeup.

History: “Oh dearie, you want to know more about me, do you? Well, I am quite a private person, but I suppose I can make a little bit of an exception for you. Don’t stop me now, or I might not get started again.” Elizabeth lets out a lilting laugh, before continuing. “I was born in Belfast, Northern Ireland. I still remember the Troubles, you know. They ended when I was... Oh, I must have been six when they ended, so I don’t remember them that well. My family was well off enough, I suppose. My mother was a university lecturer, you see, and my father was in the IT business. A bit before the curve, but there you go, that’s pa for you.” She seems a little wistful, before shifting in her seat, clearing her throat, and going on. "Middle class through and through. My grandpa fought in the war... World War Two, that is, and afterwards he had gone into the electronics business too. IBM. Ma... Now, ma, like I said, she was a lecturer."

"She taught Irish Studies at Belfast. Not a wildly popular course, but she had enough students every year and she found it fascinating. Plus, she loved the work you see. She would have home-schooled me if she hadn't had her own work to do. A bi of a shame, but ah well. Instead I went to a normal primary school. When I was young, I was unremarkable, but that changed. Oh yes, that changed. Of course, it took a little bit before I would change, but that's how things go. Nobody changes overnight... Except when they do." Her face changes for a split second, and then she goes back to normal. "That's not relevant to the story though, not in the slightest. Rapidly returning to the subject... We moved to England when I was ten. England proper, that is, the country south of Scotland, because we were technically already within Great Britain." She clears her throat a little bit, and adjusts her necklace, which is a simple thing.

“I studied hard. I was motivated, I was driven then. I wanted to be the best, the very best. So, I threw myself into my work, and I earned the grades that I rightfully deserved." Flying colours in my GCSEs, flying colours in my A levels. A* in English Literature, History, Latin and Classical Civilisations. Yes, I did four A levels. Cambridge university awaited me- my family was very pleased. Middle class Irish girl, and I was dressing up and going off to Cambridge! Next prime minister, that was me.” Another laugh, this one with a bitter tone to it. “Then I found something. Something that would change me. I found a book. A very curious book, written in a Latin dialect.”

“I’m sure you know of the stories and stereotypes about what could be in that book.” She leans in now, her earlier mirth entirely evaporated from her voice. “I spent weeks locked up in my dorm, barely eating anything, trying to decipher that book. The dialect was basically another language, and I found it infuriating. There was no way I was going to let someone else steal the victory that came closer and closer to being on the tip of my tongue away from me- I had to tear that book apart myself. Sure enough, that was what I did. I pried the information from it, dissected it like a rat in a lab until I was left with the raw information.” She leans back now, and offers another smile, the seriousness gone once more. “It was a rather interesting book.”

“After that, well, things went oddly. I dropped out of university, largely lose contact with my folks, shook things up a little with my life, and I ended up doing a little bit of backpacking around the world. Linguistics, I found, I had quite a talent for. Not just mortal tongues, too. Never mind that though. I’ve revealed more than I’m comfortable with already.”

Sin: Superbia- Pride: "I work hard. Every day of my life I work hard. Does this not place me above those who waste away their time in petty pursuits and meaningless questions? When I study the occult, in the curtain of knowledge that so few have torn aside... To imply that I am the same as the common student.
Virtue: Diligence- "I have nothing further to say about this. I work hard. Very hard. My past shows this. I don't think I need to promote myself further.

Personality:
Determined. Calculated. Calm. Elizabeth will fixate on an end goal and reach that end goal. She's constantly curious, but tries to hide this curiosity behind a veil of disinterestedness. A very private person, she likes making sure that people don't know even the most basic information about her. She considers her studies into the eldritch to be the pinnacle of research, and woe betide those that disagree with her.

Skills:

• Linguistics. Elizabeth is a brilliant and talented Linguist. Her mother tongue of English, as well as Gaelic, French, Spanish, Italian, Latin, Arabic and Farsi all languages she is fluent in, and she has a passing familiarity with Hebrew, Cantonese and Mandarin.
• Analysis. Elizabeth is the sort of woman to walk into a room and tell the builder things he wasn’t aware of. She focuses on details, and often odd ones at that, marking them all in her mind. She has occasionally turned this into something of a ‘Sherlock scan,’ although this has its own flaws.
• Tidiness of mind. This doesn’t perhaps sound like a useful ability, but to Elizabeth, having a mind as organised as hers is how she functions as well as she does. Every scrap of information she could need is disseminated and catalogued into a mind as orderly as a hospital ward, allowing her a clarity of thinking and a way of repressing memories that is unsurpassed.
• Teaching. When it comes to describing things, Elizabeth always knows the words for the task at hand. Be it a lecture, a rushed detailing on eldritch script, or how she made the morning tea, she’s a keen educator.

Spells:

• Clairvoyance: Elizabeth selects one item or person she knows with reasonable detail, within a 100-meter-radius of her, and knows his/her/its exact location at the time of casting the spell.
• Glimmerken: Elizabeth pressed her thumb, index finger and middle finger to her forehead for a brief moment whilst casting. Afterwards, she can see near-perfectly for around ten metres in pitch blackness, and a further 30 metres as if it was dimly lit. The spell lasts for 1 hour. Elizabeth cannot determine colour using this spell, only shades of grey. Gllimmerken also allows to see items that have been touched by magic, such as focuses, or items that have been enchanted or cursed.
• Recollect: Elizabeth can recall memories with eidetic precision. These can be any memories, from any period of time in her life, and she keeps them permanently, to be recalled at any time. These memories have to be self-enclosed, so that they have a defined beginning, middle and end, and cannot last for longer than an hour.

Focus: The book. A plain, black-leather bound thing, with gilt edges and a scarlet red ribbon divider. Small enough to tuck into a pocket comfortably, she never reveals the contents to anyone.
Equipment: An inflammable bottle of cleaning spray, a handkerchief designed for cleaning spectacles, a notepad and several ballpoint pens, a small portable phone charger, a small length of paracord, a packet of tissue paper, a mint-condition zippo lighter, a small pack of playing cards, a packet of Marlboro cigarettes and a packet of ‘extra tuff’ mint chewing gum.

Other:
“I walk this path alone- for who would walk it with me? I stride among the souls who cannot see, for their knowledge they let could their vision, let it cloud not clarify and cause their damnable minds to be ignorant of what they could know.”

Intrigue in the Fifth City - A Fallen London RP

From talking and perusing to dancing. Her partner was an interesting fellow, that much was very clear to her. Not the smell of the zee, or the stuffiness of a scholar. Cigar smoke clung to him like lice, and he hid his teeth. A curious figure, even more curious thank to his fending off of whom she was sure was a boatman.

Then, quite curiously, he began to sing. A song of saints and sinners. Of death. Combined with the quicker dancing, it was almost as if this gentleman was trying to throw her off course. But she persevered. Just because she spent her time among city streets rather than parlours didn't mean that she did not know how to dance. Running through crowds and dancing past policemen gave you an agility that would be hard to overcome.

With the dip, and the finale of the song, Bellerose let herself dangle down, toes almost coming off the ground and unceremoniously dropping her down into the floor. "Ah, but I'd be a fool to fall in love with a mask." She let out a lighter laugh and seperated herself, spinning around a little bit and feeling her stomach strain a little to get in the air with the corset wrapped around her. "Ah. Zorko. C’est un plaisir. J'mapelle Ray." A brief little curtsy.

Intrigue in the Fifth City - A Fallen London RP

Alright folks. This will be a terrible post. But I will try my best.

Intrigue in the Fifth City - A Fallen London RP

Coquettish Watchmaker to catch up with things and hopefully post within the next 24-48 hours, all things willing.

The Rhythm of the Night

Bar had filled up fast. Sim had tapped out quickly, nodding at her and then vanishing out of the door, but many more regulars were filling up the bar, along with people just stopping in for a drink. Glenn was up first, one of the more mopey patrons normally, but he was in a good mood. White wine was kept chilled, so she uncorked a fresh bottle and let it glug out. She was hardly a sommelier here, but she had handled alcohol for a long time. Two glass, she slid them across, recorking the bottle with a reusable stopper, and putting it back into the fridge. "Yeah, things are pretty good. Hanging on to this last bit before I go and party." She chuckled. "I'm looking forward to turntabling again. Especially in the non-culinary sense."

Then came... Huh. That was a blast from the past. Alexander, Alexander, Alexander. They had been an item when she was studying, but had lost contact after she had dropped out. Now he was back here. "If I recall Alex, we ended up splitting. You probably still have my number." Stooping down again to the fridge, she popped out one of the microbrewery stuff and cracked the top. Tipped it out, letting the head settle out, and down onto the table it went. Things were moving fast, damn. She might need a coworker if things got this busy consistently.

Then flounced Brandon. He was decent enough, albeit about as camp as was possible to get, but he didn't care for her, and that cooled her attitude towards him in turn. His usual. Almost what Sim had had. Pepsi, the bartender tossing it behind her back, channelling through her just for a second to let her catch it on one finger, then letting it fall into her palm, where she tapped the bottlecap a few times, then opened it.

"Glenn, stop trying to stir up bullshit. I ain't got time for it today. Brandon wants to drink a diet pepsi, he wants a diet pepsi. You put double the amount of shit into yourself anyway." She pointedly looked at him, the glass of wine, and the fact that she knew he was undercutting her on MDMA. It was almost funny that there were three different drug dealers all chatting right now, but hey, life was life. Her voice was jovial enough, but also with that tinge of seriousness which was Jennie-code for 'I'll smack you if you don't shut up.' The regulars knew it.

Then came an unusual figure. Much older than the rest of the regular. Grits. Old school. Seemed kinda miserable nowadays, she felt for him a bit, even if he was the fittest man his age that she had ever known. "Hey Grits. Good day? Bad day?" Tap water was free, so there was that at least. Lord knows how the guy pulled in cash nowadays- maybe his old music was still selling.

She checked the clock on the wall. Half an hour had vanished. Cmon, cmoon! After she had hit the club, she wanted to hit the streets as well. Her 'costume,' if you could call a differently-coloured motorcycle jumpsuit and modified helmet a costume, was inside a gym bag in the employee only-area.

The Rhythm of the Night

Anyone who still needs to make a CS/Post, I would appreciate people doing that now. Kthanxbye.

Intrigue in the Fifth City - A Fallen London RP

Ugh. Not feeling in the writing spirit right now. I'll see when I can give all you lovely folks a post though.

Rainbow Six/Military inspired Roleplay?

@Winter Star12

>Glaz
>Her Gear
>Hokey then