Very interesting! I'll work on a character this evening.
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pretentious jerk
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The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)
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8 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Ms. Golightly appeared not long after her brother did, drawn as ever by some invisible, maternal tether. As she descended the stair from her room at Malcolm’s, her gloved hand gliding along the bannister, William was already sat at a table in the saloon, donned in his bowler and unblemished, white collar. Comically, he found himself surrounded by grizzled veterans of the unbathed West, looking like a show dog among… well, not wolves. Something more like mangy coyotes, perhaps.
Already, she noted, he was deep into a game of gin rummy with his new fellows. It was not yet noon and already there was a pitcher between the four of them. And judging from the stack of bills in the center of the table, William was well on his way of needing to borrow from the funds his sister had brought with them.
The only discernible reaction to the scene from Ms. Golightly was the upward flick of a delicate eyebrow as she turned to make her way toward the bar.
She seated herself at the far end, carefully arranging her skirt as to not get scuffed by the dusty ends of her boots. A small book was laid on the surface in front of her and subsequently opened to a page marked with a red ribbon. The top of the page was marked with the day’s date, and some mundane thoughts already jotted down while Ms. Golightly was still in bed this morning.
While Ms. Golightly reread her own writing and debated on whether she had anything to add, the dull end of a stylus pressed against her lip, she felt the shadow of the barkeep descend over her. A brass belt buckle appeared in the upper end of her peripheral vision.
“Just a glass of clean water, please,” she bid him without lifting her head. The shadow receded without ceremony.
As the rest of the room gradually bled into her reluctant awareness, Ms. Golightly snuck a ghostly look at the crimson-cloaked character seated at another part of the bar, who was presently twisting a glass between his hand. Odd character. The first time she’d seen him, the starkness of his peculiar dress had drawn a startled gasp from the city-bred woman. So far, however, he seemed mostly the morose and thoughtful sort.
The look he gave to the man leaving was more than a little unsettling, all the more reason to leave the strange fellow alone. As her cup arrived, she diverted her glances once more.
A roar of laughter erupted from the card table as William threw down his hand. Lost again, Ol’ Billy. Ms. Golightly turned her head to watch as they clapped their hands on his shoulder and shook him jovially. Had to wince when she noticed the smudge of dirt left behind on William’s otherwise clean shirt.
Pronouncing his defeat to the lads, William stood and brought the empty pitcher to the bar. Ms. Golightly was already writing a few new thoughts into her journal as her brother leaned in beside her.
“Always need to be everyone’s friend, don’t you,” she greeted evently.
“Don’t be sore just because you haven’t got any.” William’s reply was absorbed with a tight-lipped look. Marion’s retort was swallowed and saved for a less compromising moment. Her brother slid the pitcher across the bar, summoning the stout, apron-clad keep. “Refill for my friends and I, would you kindly?”
“Are you going to be capable of mounting a horse in a few hours, William?” Ms. Golightly did not conceal her irritation.
Her brother lowered his voice and waited until the barkeep was out of earshot to reveal a sliver of his true self.
“Swill here is watered down as it is, I’ll be fine.” William further provoked his sister by nudging her with his elbow. Marion’s stylus slid across the page in a sloppy line, and she glared at him. “Hear about that dead cow, Mary? Spooky thing, isn’t it?”
“Yes, why won’t anyone shut up about it?” Ms. Golightly clapped her book shut and tucked her stylus into the spine. “Honestly, the stories you hear about this place, and all anyone can talk about is a dead cow. We lost a horse to exhaustion on the way here. Any number of things can kill some sickly heifer.”
William took this with a shrug, deciding his sister wasn’t the best audience for this sort of thing. The local townsfolk were much more superstitious and prone to spreading wild rumors.
Marion bobbed her head discreetly to her left, toward the stranger in the red cloak and myriad buckles.
“Between you and me, I’d like to know more about where that man learned to dress,” she added with a conspiratorial smirk. It was mirrored by her brother as he retrieved a newly filled pitcher. Instantly, Ms. Golightly’s mirth disappeared into a frown. “I’m not going to henpeck you, William, just be ready to leave by noon.”
“We agreed on one o’clock and you know it. I’ll be ready then.” And then he was gone, stained shoulder at all.
With that, Ms. Golightly opened her journal again to read her new additions, the tether feeling once more taut between her and her older brother.
Already, she noted, he was deep into a game of gin rummy with his new fellows. It was not yet noon and already there was a pitcher between the four of them. And judging from the stack of bills in the center of the table, William was well on his way of needing to borrow from the funds his sister had brought with them.
The only discernible reaction to the scene from Ms. Golightly was the upward flick of a delicate eyebrow as she turned to make her way toward the bar.
She seated herself at the far end, carefully arranging her skirt as to not get scuffed by the dusty ends of her boots. A small book was laid on the surface in front of her and subsequently opened to a page marked with a red ribbon. The top of the page was marked with the day’s date, and some mundane thoughts already jotted down while Ms. Golightly was still in bed this morning.
Sunny morning. Weather fair. Second inspection of Smith property best performed this afternoon, granted William is sober and able. Southern end is rocky, best traversed on foot rather than by horse.
While Ms. Golightly reread her own writing and debated on whether she had anything to add, the dull end of a stylus pressed against her lip, she felt the shadow of the barkeep descend over her. A brass belt buckle appeared in the upper end of her peripheral vision.
“Just a glass of clean water, please,” she bid him without lifting her head. The shadow receded without ceremony.
As the rest of the room gradually bled into her reluctant awareness, Ms. Golightly snuck a ghostly look at the crimson-cloaked character seated at another part of the bar, who was presently twisting a glass between his hand. Odd character. The first time she’d seen him, the starkness of his peculiar dress had drawn a startled gasp from the city-bred woman. So far, however, he seemed mostly the morose and thoughtful sort.
The look he gave to the man leaving was more than a little unsettling, all the more reason to leave the strange fellow alone. As her cup arrived, she diverted her glances once more.
A roar of laughter erupted from the card table as William threw down his hand. Lost again, Ol’ Billy. Ms. Golightly turned her head to watch as they clapped their hands on his shoulder and shook him jovially. Had to wince when she noticed the smudge of dirt left behind on William’s otherwise clean shirt.
Pronouncing his defeat to the lads, William stood and brought the empty pitcher to the bar. Ms. Golightly was already writing a few new thoughts into her journal as her brother leaned in beside her.
“Always need to be everyone’s friend, don’t you,” she greeted evently.
“Don’t be sore just because you haven’t got any.” William’s reply was absorbed with a tight-lipped look. Marion’s retort was swallowed and saved for a less compromising moment. Her brother slid the pitcher across the bar, summoning the stout, apron-clad keep. “Refill for my friends and I, would you kindly?”
“Are you going to be capable of mounting a horse in a few hours, William?” Ms. Golightly did not conceal her irritation.
Her brother lowered his voice and waited until the barkeep was out of earshot to reveal a sliver of his true self.
“Swill here is watered down as it is, I’ll be fine.” William further provoked his sister by nudging her with his elbow. Marion’s stylus slid across the page in a sloppy line, and she glared at him. “Hear about that dead cow, Mary? Spooky thing, isn’t it?”
“Yes, why won’t anyone shut up about it?” Ms. Golightly clapped her book shut and tucked her stylus into the spine. “Honestly, the stories you hear about this place, and all anyone can talk about is a dead cow. We lost a horse to exhaustion on the way here. Any number of things can kill some sickly heifer.”
William took this with a shrug, deciding his sister wasn’t the best audience for this sort of thing. The local townsfolk were much more superstitious and prone to spreading wild rumors.
Marion bobbed her head discreetly to her left, toward the stranger in the red cloak and myriad buckles.
“Between you and me, I’d like to know more about where that man learned to dress,” she added with a conspiratorial smirk. It was mirrored by her brother as he retrieved a newly filled pitcher. Instantly, Ms. Golightly’s mirth disappeared into a frown. “I’m not going to henpeck you, William, just be ready to leave by noon.”
“We agreed on one o’clock and you know it. I’ll be ready then.” And then he was gone, stained shoulder at all.
With that, Ms. Golightly opened her journal again to read her new additions, the tether feeling once more taut between her and her older brother.
William seems to be treating this trip as some excursion away from the toils of family life in the city. While I’m out listening for tales of wolf-men, only to hear of slain cattle, my brother couldn’t be less attentive to his surroundings. No rumormongers to whisper to his wife, no colleagues to hide his face from. He probably dreads returning. I almost pity him. Perhaps it’s a mistake to rush him through our business here.
Yeah, personally have no problem with a couple people posting between themselves.
Sorry, I do intend to post. Worked a long week this week, weekend starts today. Weekends are actually when I do intend to post the most often.
I don't think I'll go for a personal card I'll just see what gets dealt and roll with it ^.^
I concur. Half the fun of RP is not quite knowing what's in the cards until they're dealt.
So here's a thing.
Friend and I were discussing the tragedy of wasted characters recently. I don't think I need to illuminate much on the frustration of investing hours, days, maybe weeks into a dedicated, complex, original character concept, only to have the RP die prematurely. I know I've lost some good ones, characters that lasted only a month or two but were remembered for years afterward. I'll bet anyone reading this crap could name a few of their own. All that potential simply gone, yanked from underneath your feet.
Or maybe the RP just turned out to really suck.
Either way, while some people resurrect these characters or recycle the concepts into new creations, as to not let them go to waste, it's often just not the same. So here's a chance to live them out despite.
Tell me about your character(s). I want to know your plans for them, the setting they were in, what you really wanted out of their creation. Then maybe we can start something. Maybe even just a short scene you wanted for your guy. If it does require the use of another RPGuild user's RP setting, please let me know whose it is so I can ask permission to use some permutation of their ideas. I'm not in the habit of stealing people's original designs, but sometimes you need to repeat certain themes to really bring a dead character back to life.
I'll play whatever role needs playing. You're the star here. I'm adaptable. Male, female, vegetable, what have you.
These threads can die if you want. If you only want to play out a scene that didn't happen and then walk away, that's cool. Or they can go for awhile if we find our own groove. What happens happens.
Things I don't do: Fandoms, straight romance, anything resembling anime, porn.
Availability: I'm not going to even talk about post-rate. You've heard it all before and so have I. Roleplayers (like most humans) are notoriously unreliable. Personally I like to practice open communication. If I can't post, I'll be glad to tell you why.
PM me, post here, whatever. We'll discuss.
Friend and I were discussing the tragedy of wasted characters recently. I don't think I need to illuminate much on the frustration of investing hours, days, maybe weeks into a dedicated, complex, original character concept, only to have the RP die prematurely. I know I've lost some good ones, characters that lasted only a month or two but were remembered for years afterward. I'll bet anyone reading this crap could name a few of their own. All that potential simply gone, yanked from underneath your feet.
Or maybe the RP just turned out to really suck.
Either way, while some people resurrect these characters or recycle the concepts into new creations, as to not let them go to waste, it's often just not the same. So here's a chance to live them out despite.
Tell me about your character(s). I want to know your plans for them, the setting they were in, what you really wanted out of their creation. Then maybe we can start something. Maybe even just a short scene you wanted for your guy. If it does require the use of another RPGuild user's RP setting, please let me know whose it is so I can ask permission to use some permutation of their ideas. I'm not in the habit of stealing people's original designs, but sometimes you need to repeat certain themes to really bring a dead character back to life.
I'll play whatever role needs playing. You're the star here. I'm adaptable. Male, female, vegetable, what have you.
These threads can die if you want. If you only want to play out a scene that didn't happen and then walk away, that's cool. Or they can go for awhile if we find our own groove. What happens happens.
Things I don't do: Fandoms, straight romance, anything resembling anime, porn.
Availability: I'm not going to even talk about post-rate. You've heard it all before and so have I. Roleplayers (like most humans) are notoriously unreliable. Personally I like to practice open communication. If I can't post, I'll be glad to tell you why.
PM me, post here, whatever. We'll discuss.
I forsee many a discussion between Marion and Joselyn over tea. @Life in Stasis
Excellent. I'm sure they'll be dry and scathing.
@Life in Stasis so I've actually be reading the Parasol protectorate and your character is like half way betweenow lady Maccon and a character from The Six Gun Tarot named Maudy. Which is why I really liked thr character. I was talking to Grin yesterday and all of the appropriate western archetypes are filling up nicely which I was really pleased by
Women in Victorian style dress is always pleasing. There's something powerful about it, without compromising elegance.
In fact the inspiration for Marion's character comes primarily from Captain Janeway in the Voyager Star Trek series. Not so much as a matriarchal type, but a controlled and measured personality that responds well to curveballs.
Originally I was going to go for a cattle driver, but noticed the lack of the hapless city slicker archetype. Decided to go female rather than male just to help balance the genders, which transformed the original idea of the city slicker (who was going to be naive and comically bumbling) to someone more self-possessed and adaptable. Still horribly naive, but she'll handle it differently.
<Snipped>
All things I did not know. I'd better tell the real life Marion that she has a man's name. ;) Actually I've always had a personal fondness for women with masculine names. Somehow this suits Ms. Golightly even more, especially as she now shares a name with John Wayne.
I was also thinking of Annie Golightly as I made the character, who was a well known songwriter and horsewoman.
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