Naril

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

I'll have a post up tomorrow with any luck!

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

I’ve also been broadly operating on the understanding that everyone kind of knows one another - at least what’s in the character sheets. For example, if someone heard the presence say Trajay’s real name, that’d be the first time they’ve heard that. In the same vein, I’m guessing we know that Blythe has a Dark Passenger, and we’ve variously come to terms (or not! That could be interesting) with that, and that Al seems like he might have tried to play fetch with Cerberus.

If that’s not the case, I suppose we should discuss it - for what it’s worth, I’m very not precious about Teajay. Everything in her character sheet is totally available for people to know. :3

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

For that particular one, I'm generally pleased to leave it up to folks - if she fully steps Outside I think that's largely private (unless someone feels like they could follow her - Blythe, maybe?), but I think everyone definitely heard Teajay's side. Whether they heard the other presence, well, I'll leave that to folks. :)

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

Samuel Priest had a routine with certain kinds of emails. He didn't let the computer do the sorting for him; he might know the rules of arcane bureaucracy but he had no real interest in working out how to make the computer do something he was perfectly capable of himself. Instead, with the kind of deliberation that could - and did - drive the younger members of his organization up the wall, he considered each message, then with all the speed of a growing oak, resigned it to whatever folder or trash bin it might belong in. He didn't even delete the endless messages from marketers and people who were certain that what he needed were "dynamic, modern, data-driven approaches" to his very peculiar business, but he did have a folder for them. If you could read the words, the label would say "Fools, Damn Fools, and Liars."

And then there were the...other messages. Missives from, well. You could call some of them peers, or fellow delvers in the darkness. Others were communications from dark gods, lost prophets, or the Faen courts. All had their particular strata of Priest's attention, given in their turn. And at the very top of that priority list were messages from Eleanor Tregellan. They were so special, in fact, that Priest even had a special routine for those messages.

He made them not his problem.

Priest sighed, then reached to his desk phone, a heavy, corded thing, and punched a number in while cradling the receiver on his broad shoulder. The line rang three times, before clicking with connection.

"Oh, you're awake, how lovely," he said without preamble, "Miss Blackwood, I do hope you have a moment. It seems our...associate...is looking for her employee. Yes, again. I don't suppose you've seen her lately? Well, I would ask you to get a message to her, if you wouldn't mind..."

----------------------

"You know that I'm not actually your messenger service," said Morgan Blackwood, her quick fingers buttoning up her shirt. "It is possible for you to look at your phone now and then."

"I check my phone all the time," Teajay replied from the bathroom. She pulled a brush through her hair, then used her fingers to tease the strands the way she liked.

"Let me guess, to see who you've matched with on Deisul," Morgan sighed.

Teajay poked her head out of the bathroom, "Morgan Blackwood, as I live and breathe. You know about Deisul?"

"I..." Morgan waved a hand, "Not what we're talking about." Could that be a flush on her cheeks? Surely not.

Morgan let out a surprised breath a moment later, Teajay having bolted out of the bathroom and wrapped her arms around Morgan's waist from behind in a hug.

"I'm so damn proud of you," Teajay said into Morgan's back, "Look at you! Baby's first online dating profile! You have to let me see it. Wait, did we match? Holy shit, is that why you're here?" Her tone held nothing but playful, teasing delight.

"Tarah," Morgan said, clearing her throat, "Tregellan says you have a case." She reached down and gently pulled herself away from Teajay's embrace, "And since apparently she included Mr. Priest on the email, this one might be important? So, please, if you could, just check your messages."

Teajay stepped away from Morgan, a sly grin still on her face. She walked into her bedroom and scooped up her phone, her thumb tracing a complex sigil on the screen. A moment later, she let out a sound halfway between dismay and surprise.

"Urgent, huh?" Teajay said, "I guess I'll have to wear pants for this one."

-----------------------

Chicago in February is not anyone's idea of a good time. The winter had lost its novelty earlier in the year, and the knowledge that there was still quite a lot more to go could be enervating. The last few months had been dry and mild, but the wind still blew with icy teeth. Teajay stepped down the alley wrapped in a wool coat to her calves, bright blue scarf at her neck, and a knit hat with a pink cat's paw on one side, her steps careful while she approached the knot of other investigators.

"Heya, everyone," Teajay said, stepping past Alcander. The man looked even more tired than usual, the poor thing.

"Oh, fuck," she managed, seeing the ichor-coated body. "You know, Eleanor, that you could mention something like 'don't wear something you mind getting stained,' in the messages sometimes."

Teajay stepped closer to the body, then lowered herself to take a closer look. No expression, no contorted limbs. Not even a smell, which...well. The less said about that, the better. Other than the black goo - which Teajay was not going to touch - hardly anything remarkable at all. Curious, that absence.

And while she thought about it, focused her attention, that absence deepened and grew. More than a simple lack of context, and lack of clues, there was something important missing here. Something about the body felt...wrong. Not just out of place physically, but something else. A cold blankness where even an impression should have been. She swallowed.

"Do...you guys feel that?" Teajay said, standing. She turned, her eyes scanning the empty air. The hair on her arms prickled, even under her jacket.

She took a few steps further down the alley, almost unconscious. There, a little way further away from the rumbling El tracks, she felt...something. With a start, she realized it was the Outside, but not an invitation, nor a demand. A presence, like a hand on the other side of a pane of glass.

"Oh, fuck," Teajay said to herself.

"Talenarael" came a voice, like a whisper on a wind. "You come for the soul."

"I..." Teajay swallowed, "No, I...don't..."

"Gone," the voice interrupted, "Missing. Taken. Destroyed. Lost. Nothing to speak for. Only a hollow." The words seemed to take a tremendous amount of effort, or come from a very long distance away.

"I don't know what to do with that right now," Teajay said, "Okay, fuck it. Do you know who he was? Anything about him?"

"Not the first," the voice said. And with those words, the presence faded, the pressure of the Outside falling away at the same time.

"Shit," Teajay muttered, then turned to look back at the group.

"Er...how much of that did any of you hear?" She said.

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

I cackled at the idea of Teajay having an @angelfire.com address.

She definitely would.

Edit: That BCC!

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

A private detective, a cop, a demon, and an angel. This is a hell of a cast!

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

Malfunctioning Advocate Angel

Name: Tarah el-Jaziri (Goes by "Teajay" to most people, spelled all the way out, or "Jazz" to people she likes. She has another name, but she's said it maybe three times.)

Concept: Malfunctioning Advocate Angel

Background:

Teajay has few of the answers you might expect of a member of the Host. She hasn't met the Highest, despite her certainty that there is at least one, and despite everything, she's not actually certain what happens after you pass from this world. Or, at least, what happens after the part that she's concerned with. If she's met anyone else like her, she hasn't known it, and nobody seems to be looking for her, either to tell her what to do or to tell her to stop. So, since the summer of 1949, she's walked the Earth, tasting its joys and sorrows, richness and poverty, and tending to the souls that cross her path on their way to whatever comes after.

You see, for some - not all, and not even most - when that good night comes, Tarah will be there, and she will speak on their behalf in that half-light of the spirit. To whom, she doesn't know, all that she's really certain of is that the words are important. She will tell the tale of love, of compassion, of desperation or well-meaning, circumstance and loss, and she knows something listens. She believes that while she speaks, there is an opposite that whispers a very different tale, but one she cannot hear or alter. And once the tale is told, her part is over. There is no acknowledgement, praise, or censure, only a sense that now it's time to move on.

You could call her a psychopomp, a kind hand through transition; but like so many things, Teajay isn't certain about that. She can step outside time, commune with her charge, and speak to whatever's listening, but per place in that liminality is all too brief. There is no authority instructing her where to be or who to speak with - for her time on Earth, each soul seems to have crossed her path by accident. If there is a design or a plan, Teajay doesn't understand it.

Despite all of this uncertainty, Teajay maintains an elaborate, corkscrewey kind of faith - though not so much in any kind of ineffability or even that there is a plan at all. Rather, her belief is that she is something of a happy accident, the cosmic equivalent of a dropped screw. She believes in her own purpose, and she believes she is doing good, or at least her own version of good. If she never gets her answers, she's long since come to terms with that.

Outside of her own misfit place, Tarah is passionately interested in the world, in people, and in their stories. She has known the full, vibrant tapestries of the lives she's touched, their joys and dreams, their struggles and triumphs and tragedies. The withertos and whyfores of a life fascinate her, each a puzzle or a new story. Though she may be an aspect of Death, Teajay is more than a little of a bon vivant, happy and grateful to have the life she does, and more than happy to partake in the world, from candies to lovers, along the way.

About a decade ago, Teajay's crossing with the Sunday Group happened in a way that nobody involved really could have expected. Mediums, psychics, and ghost-talkers of all kinds tend find their way to the Group, and on one fateful evening, a newer recruit saw something nobody else had ever witnessed before. She saw not only the shade of the dead man, but at his left, a figure bathed in light, and at his right, an opposite, cloaked in shadow. This would be the first advocacy that Teajay didn't finish; the psychic's power tore through that pocket world and scattered her words, and her connection to everything within, to the wind. The next six months were...complex, to say the least, but a careful recruitment campaign brought Teajay into the fold - where she's been happily drawing a paycheck since. Though, in the time since she joined the Group, she can't help but notice that she runs across a lot more people who seem to need her - a mystery she has no idea where to start unraveling.

Appearance

Athletic and of short stature, Teajay is the kind of playful tomboy you might see at the roller derby rink. While she's clearly not young, neither is she old - a few strands of silver in her dark hair are matched by the slight crinkles at the edge of her eyes, but her complexion is smooth and clear. Her skin is the rich olive color of people who live in the desert, an occasional freckle across the bridge of her nose and down one side of her face. Large, blue-green eyes sparkle like cut gemstones, with inviting lips that smile often. Her hands are quick and strong, but nothing about her suggests holding a flaming sword to smite the unworthy. She instead gives the impression of the kind of person who might be at a concert, throwing up the horns and losing herself in the music.

Accordingly, her fashion choice tends to be along the lines of jeans and thrifted tops, with more band shirts than might be healthy for her. She has a number of tattoos, many abstract, that trace from her shoulders and down her arms, her chest, and back. She likes showing them off.

Powers & Skills

This Is Your Life - When called to speak for someone, Tarah's mind is filled with a full accounting, without judgement, of that person's life; their story, their reasons, their pains and joys. That information falls into her mind like it was always there, and never goes away. Outside of that very specific circumstance, Teajay still does feel the threads of lives spinning together with hers, and in some cases can reach out and touch that information on her own. Most specifically, there are times where she can touch a person, a place, or a thing, and experience at least some of its history - a valuable tool if the stars align and she's holding an occult ritual dagger, and needs to know where the cultists might be going next. On the other hand, that feeling can be genuinely unsettling when you're on a date.

You Know, Like Caine in Kung Fu - Teajay has been to a lot of places, met a lot of people, and done a lot of living. She has a broader lived experience than you might expect given her impish smile. There's a decent chance she might know someone to call and ask about the pre-Christian runes inscribed on a rib bone that popped up somewhere that you don't usually find rib bones. Or at least, that look like that.

I Can Do This All Day - Teajay seems to have a nearly bottomless well of physical stamina and mental fortitude, which are both useful when the stories she has to tell are complicated. In the mortal world, it means she enjoys biking and running, and that when the Group has to go on a road trip, that she often gets the longest shifts at the wheel, so everyone else can try to sleep in the back of the rented Hyundai.

Notes

Ageless, But Not Immortal - I don't think Tarah is physically immortal in any particular way. She doesn't seem to age, but her continued existence isn't due to resilience or a mutant healing factor; it's by dint of "having not been shot or stabbed enough yet." If she's hurt enough to die, I think she would.

The Sound of Her Wings - Teajay doesn't have a flaming sword, a halo, or a crown of multifarious eyes, but I think she might possess a pair of wings, manifested at her own choice. They have no particular physical benefit; they don't allow her to fly and they aren't bulletproof. Instead, I think they'd be more of a mark of station - her 'proof' that she is what she says she is. Since that question never really comes up - her simple presence at a soul's side is more than enough - there might be maybe one other person in the world who has seen them.

Stepping Outside - When speaking for the dead, Teajay steps into what feels very much like another dimension or plane of existence. This place appears to be outside of time and away from the concerns of the mortal plane, but, crucially, it is not a place that Tarah can enter at will. She cannot go there to avoid bullets, tentacled monsters, or an ex. Importantly, she can't bring anyone else there with her, even if she wanted to. It is not a way to save someone or give them more time.

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

This idea kind of took over my brain while I was thinking about a character - if she's too out there, I'll happily write up something else. :3

Teajay

Name: Tarah el-Jaziri (Goes by "Teajay" to most people, spelled all the way out, or "Jazz" to people she likes. She has another name, but she's said it maybe three times.)

Concept: Malfunctioning Advocate Angel

Background:

Teajay has few of the answers you might expect of a member of the Host. She hasn't met the Highest, despite her certainty that there is at least one, and despite everything, she's not actually certain what happens after you pass from this world. Or, at least, what happens after the part that she's concerned with. If she's met anyone else like her, she hasn't known it, and nobody seems to be looking for her, either to tell her what to do or to tell her to stop. So, since the summer of 1949, she's walked the Earth, tasting its joys and sorrows, richness and poverty, and tending to the souls that cross her path on their way to whatever comes after.

You see, for some - not all, and not even most - when that good night comes, Tarah will be there, and she will speak on their behalf in that half-light of the spirit. To whom, she doesn't know, all that she's really certain of is that the words are important. She will tell the tale of love, of compassion, of desperation or well-meaning, circumstance and loss, and she knows something listens. She believes that while she speaks, there is an opposite that whispers a very different tale, but one she cannot hear or alter. And once the tale is told, her part is over. There is no acknowledgement, praise, or censure, only a sense that now it's time to move on.

You could call her a psychopomp, a kind hand through transition; but like so many things, Teajay isn't certain about that. She can step outside time, commune with her charge, and speak to whatever's listening, but per place in that liminality is all too brief. There is no authority instructing her where to be or who to speak with - for her time on Earth, each soul seems to have crossed her path by accident. If there is a design or a plan, Teajay doesn't understand it.

Despite all of this uncertainty, Teajay maintains an elaborate, corkscrewey kind of faith - though not so much in any kind of ineffability or even that there is a plan at all. Rather, her belief is that she is something of a happy accident, the cosmic equivalent of a dropped screw. She believes in her own purpose, and she believes she is doing good, or at least her own version of good. If she never gets her answers, she's long since come to terms with that.

Outside of her own misfit place, Tarah is passionately interested in the world, in people, and in their stories. She has known the full, vibrant tapestries of the lives she's touched, their joys and dreams, their struggles and triumphs and tragedies. The withertos and whyfores of a life fascinate her, each a puzzle or a new story. Though she may be an aspect of Death, Teajay is more than a little of a bon vivant, happy and grateful to have the life she does, and more than happy to partake in the world, from candies to lovers, along the way.

About a decade ago, Teajay's crossing with the Sunday Group happened in a way that nobody involved really could have expected. Mediums, psychics, and ghost-talkers of all kinds tend find their way to the Group, and on one fateful evening, a newer recruit saw something nobody else had ever witnessed before. She saw not only the shade of the dead man, but at his left, a figure bathed in light, and at his right, an opposite, cloaked in shadow. This would be the first advocacy that Teajay didn't finish; the psychic's power tore through that pocket world and scattered her words, and her connection to everything within, to the wind. The next six months were...complex, to say the least, but a careful recruitment campaign brought Teajay into the fold - where she's been happily drawing a paycheck since. Though, in the time since she joined the Group, she can't help but notice that she runs across a lot more people who seem to need her - a mystery she has no idea where to start unraveling.

Appearance

Athletic and of short stature, Teajay is the kind of playful tomboy you might see at the roller derby rink. While she's clearly not young, neither is she old - a few strands of silver in her hair are matched by the slight crinkles at the edge of her eyes, but her complexion is smooth and clear. Large, blue-green eyes sparkle like cut gemstones, with inviting lips that smile often. Her hands are quick and strong, but nothing about her suggests holding a flaming sword to smite the unworthy. She instead gives the impression of the kind of person who might be at a concert, throwing up the horns and losing herself in the music.

Accordingly, her fashion choice tends to be along the lines of jeans and thrifted tops, with more band shirts than might be healthy for her. She has a number of tattoos, many abstract, that trace from her shoulders and down her arms, her chest, and back. She likes showing them off.

Powers & Skills

This Is Your Life - When called to speak for someone, Tarah's mind is filled with a full accounting, without judgement, of that person's life; their story, their reasons, their pains and joys. That information falls into her mind like it was always there, and never goes away. Outside of that very specific circumstance, Teajay still does feel the threads of lives spinning together with hers, and in some cases can reach out and touch that information on her own. Most specifically, there are times where she can touch a person, a place, or a thing, and experience at least some of its history - a valuable tool if the stars align and she's holding an occult ritual dagger, and needs to know where the cultists might be going next. On the other hand, that feeling can be genuinely unsettling when you're on a date.

You know, Like Caine in Kung Fu - Teajay has been to a lot of places, met a lot of people, and done a lot of living. She has a broader lived experience than you might expect given her impish smile. There's a decent chance she might know someone to call and ask about the pre-Christian runes inscribed on a rib bone that popped up somewhere that you don't usually find rib bones. Or at least, that look like that.

I Can Do This All Day - Teajay seems to have a nearly bottomless well of physical stamina and mental fortitude, which are both useful when the stories she has to tell are complicated. In the mortal world, it means she enjoys biking and running, and that when the Group has to go on a road trip, that she often gets the longest shifts at the wheel, so everyone else can try to sleep in the back of the rented Hyundai.

Notes

Ageless, But Not Immortal - I don't think Tarah is physically immortal in any particular way. She doesn't seem to age, but her continued existence isn't due to resilience or a mutant healing factor; it's by dint of "having not been shot or stabbed enough yet." If she's hurt enough to die, I think she would.

The Sound of Her Wings - Teajay doesn't have a flaming sword, a halo, or a crown of multifarious eyes, but I think she might possess a pair of wings, manifested at her own choice. They have no particular physical benefit; they don't allow her to fly and they aren't bulletproof. Instead, I think they'd be more of a mark of station - her 'proof' that she is what she says she is. Since that question never really comes up - her simple presence at a soul's side is more than enough - there might be maybe one other person in the world who has seen them.

Stepping Outside - When speaking for the dead, Teajay steps into what feels very much like another dimension or plane of existence. This place appears to be outside of time and away from the concerns of the mortal plane, but, crucially, it is not a place that Tarah can enter at will. She cannot go there to avoid bullets, tentacled monsters, or an ex. Importantly, she can't bring anyone else there with her, even if she wanted to. It is not a way to save someone or give them more time.

Paranormal Detectives

HI

Naril's interest checks - mostly original worlds, mostly original characters

Hey everyone! It's been a really long time, but I figured that I'd use a 1x1 thread to test the waters a little, since I used to be here quite a lot. I'd like to have some adventures, but I don't have the time or energy to GM full group threads and, well, I suppose that's what 1x1s are for.


A Little About Me

Hi! I'm Naril. I've been roleplaying and writing for around twenty years, and at least for a little while longer, I'm 38 years old. I'm Asian-American, I use she/her and they/them pronouns, and I live in the US Central (GMT-6) time zone at the moment. My real, actual job sounds like the background for about a quarter of the character profiles I've seen (No, I'm not an assassin), I grew up in a weird place, and I have a lot of unusual hobbies - most of which involve dangerous equipment. So far, I haven't died!

I'm frequently very busy, which means I am a slower-paced poster - if you need daily posts, that won't be me. Once a week will be more typical, but I'll be honest, it might be once every week and a half or two. Sometimes I'll be faster, but, well, I wouldn't count on it. You can expect "a lot" to "a lot, a lot" of words. I don't write quickly, but you'll have things to read.

What I'm Looking For

I am looking for adventure, action, or mystery stories set in interesting worlds. I prefer sci-fi over traditional fantasy (though I like both!), and I absolutely adore urban-fantasy stories. I'm also a very soft sell for most superheroics - give me powers and people to save! The story I want to tell is one where we're the good guys - we might be the exasperated good guys, the underfunded good guys, or the unappreciated good guys, but we're still doing the best we can. I want this to be fun to write and fun to read - while the characters obviously have to Go Through Some Stuff for compelling storytelling, the light has to be at the end of the tunnel. The more bullet-pointy stuff I'm looking for is under the hider:

The basics

- Someone creative, literate, and wordy. I like reading, I love turns of phrase that make my brain tingle, I love description and detail. Don't feel like you have to lay down a paragraph describing the moss on a wall, but really let me live in whatever you create. I'll do the same for you! I don't really care about word counts - enough to do what needs to be done, but not so much that you or I get bored. I've got samples upon request, but really, just click on my profile.

- Absolutely, someone over 18 - and preferably, quite a lot over. I'm in my late thirties, you know?

- My characters tend to be women who are more than a little flirtatious and more than a little horny - but that said, I'm probably not looking for a lot of romance here. I'm not usually looking for anything-to-lovers, but I am always looking for colleagues-to-friends-or-found-family. There's always room for a more-than-friends feeling, but we - and our characters - would need to be getting along exceptionally well.

- Complexity in storytelling! The path from the problem to the solution is not clean, straight, or easy. We will face setbacks. We may even lose! The problem should always be something we can't torpedo, fireball, or punch our way out of. The basic rule of The Bad Guy Is Always More Powerful should be here.

- Characters defined by who they are rather than what they can do. Superman's power has always been in his kindness, and active choice of goodness, not in his ability to punch a building in half.

- Someone who believes in both yes, and along with no, but - nothing kills motivation, interest, or story faster than flat refusals.

- A real co-protagonist. I'm not interested in being Leader and Follower; we should create this story together, and both characters should be able to carry the story. We're both going to be a little (or a lot) extra and larger than life, the people who make the things happen. The story is, after all, about us.

- Violence is fine! So are setbacks, sadness, tragedy, and other narrative forms of torment. What I don't want is meaningless, crushing, pervading despair, where there isn't a way out and we're just waiting for the darkness to close in.

- Characters who are already past their school days - whether that takes the form of an Actual School, a boot camp, or some kind of Wizard Academy. We're adults, with reasonably fully realized lives, being tossed together by the plot, our inclination, because we're related, or whatever else.

- Please do feel free to chat with me OOC! I really like getting to know my writing partners.

What I'm Not Looking For

I am, as a general rule, not looking for fandoms, and when I am thinking about a pre-existing world, I don't have a lot of interest in playing with or against canon characters in that world. In other words, I think of Star Trek as a place to tell stories, not a place where I'm going to meet Ro Laren. While some of my favorite books are The First Law series, I'm not really looking for grimdark Crapsack Worlds to play in right now. I really have no interest at all in school, academy, or boot camp settings - I'm enjoying watching My Hero Academia but I don't find myself wanting to write about a student at UA High, and what college life I had is far behind me at this point. I am also, again, not looking for romance as a central part of the story. I'm not hunting for anything-to-lovers, but you can intrigue me with found-family stories easily. More than that, we can talk - but it's not the core of what I'm looking for.


What I'm Bringing

I have characters just lying around! I will say that while I quite like creating casts of supporting characters and NPCs, I'm only going to be writing one point-of-view character. I tend to think in elevator pitches, for example:

Characters

An academic working for something like the BPRD, accidentally killed in a way where she winds up in Folkvangr and instead of staying, took up Freya's offer to walk the earth as a Valkyrie.

A succubus with a conscience working for a paranormal-detective firm.

A human with half an AI core stuffed in her brain after a mortal injury; she's neither of the original personalities but has both of their memories.

A warship captain who really doesn't like how good she is at killing people.

Someone who died before their time - literally - and is helping Death figure out who's messing with the order of the universe through serial reincarnations separated by years or centuries.

And I'm sure we can come up with a bunch more!

I love coming up with worlds - whether they're familiar urban-fantasy worlds (Who hasn't filed the serial numbers off The Dresden Files or Supernatural?) or sci-fi universes with pot-luck inspirations or anything beyond or in between. For example:

Worlds

A galaxy with factions either in hot or cold wars with one another. Our characters, nominally aligned with one side or another, encounter something that is a threat to everyone. This can be Mass Effect style "go deal with it with our blessing," or with the wrinkle of "actually, the Admirals are short-sighted idiots, we have to do something, to hell with our orders."

A world of superheroes and villains, where one of the world's greatest heroes has gone missing or rogue - and their sister, one of the world's more reclusive villains, is the only one who might know where they are. More to the point, she's the one that approached the Hero's Guild (or whatever) under a flag of truce, explaining that nothing is quite what it seems to be.

Paranormal detectives in a real-world city. Our characters either work for, or might own, the firm, and wind up investigating something that gets much bigger than we thought, very quickly. This can be conspiracy focused, political/palace intrigue with Various Supernatural Factions, or Ghostbusters-style "uh, it got out onto Broadway, we should probably deal with that."

I like my fantasy worlds to be post-post-apocalypse - the kind of 'ancient evil is coming back' thing. Old gods, old tech, old civilizations rising (or coming back from the stars) and we have to deal with them. I don't usually think of, say, Lovecraftian Horror, so probably not Cthulhu or something, but we can always talk. Magic definitely exists here.

A Star Trek style adventure, where we're crew on a ship of exploration and run into some kind of Sci Fi Mystery. This can be something reasonably fluffy, but I'd be more interested in something like "what if the crew of the Enterprise had to figure out who the Borg were from scars on planets and rumor, rather than having their face rubbed in it by Q beforehand."

An urban-fantasy world where our characters are members of an order of death priests - but not in a Warhammer way. We are psychopomps, charged with guiding the spirits of the dead to the next world. We may not be fully human or fully alive - and to the supernatural world, even the parts that Fight The Monsters, we're all but invisible. But something's gone wrong - maybe the spirits are vanishing before we can get to them, maybe they don't want to leave - and maybe they're getting violent.

These are just suggestions - I'm sure we can come up with anything else, too!

Where I Get My Ideas

I read a lot, and I watch a lot of movies. I don't watch that many TV shows (Although I'm sure you've figured out which ones I do watch), and my knowledge of anime is comparatively shallow. I deeply believe some incredible stories are being told in video games right now, but I'll never catch up to the lot of them. Still, the Horizon games have been a lot of fun!

The books, movies, games, and shows that I vibe with

For sci-fi, I have a much better time with space opera and adventure stories. I'm a very easy sell for anything that feels like Star Trek or Mass Effect, and I'm fairly easily convinced to play with the Star Wars sandbox. I'm picky about militaria, but some of my favorite characters I've ever written about have been Space Navy Captains, so it's certainly something I'll play in.

I enjoy fantasy adventures, from Tolkeinesque worlds to 'our world, but tilted,' like you'd find in Terry Pratchett's Discworld. I do prefer a lighter feel here, so you probably won't catch my attention with something that feels like A Song of Ice and Fire. I really like Brandon Sanderson's Mistborn novels, both Era 1 and Era 2.

For urban fantasy, I'll usually gravitate toward something that feels like like Hellboy, The Dirty Streets of Heaven, or The Dresden Files. Like everyone else, I adore Jujutsu Kaisen, but I'd borrow the setting and rules of the that series and move from there, with older characters experiencing the same world, and on different adventures. N.K. Jemisin's Great Cities novels, Dimension 20's Unsleeping City, and Cherie Priest's Cheshire Red Reports are filled with the kinds of things I like.

I'm almost always interested in some kind of superhero story. Doing Good, keeping people safe, and looking great while doing it always appeals to me. You'll find me most interested in stories of banding together and doing something that no individual could do alone - yeah, That Scene in The Avengers lives in my head rent free.

Cheers, and thanks for reading! If you feel like it, toss me a PM! I can also be found on Discord, but ask for my handle if you'd like to chat there.