this same as this? It sounds just like a Raven Mocker, but most of the pictures of those are not the same as the legends describe them.
I think I would play Scael, but their interaction is entirely limited. What is their purpose? Do they hang out with other races? How? Do they just float around being peaceful?
Noxious Member
ᴅ ᴇ ᴀ ᴅ ish
STATUS: I wanted lemon for the vodka so we built a greenhouse across from the library where all the books on summoning the apocalypse and proper hallucinogen etiquette sit. Sweden is lovely this time of year. 8 yrs ago
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I wanted lemon for the vodka so we built a greenhouse across from the library where all the books on summoning the apocalypse and proper hallucinogen etiquette sit. Sweden is lovely this time of year.
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Writer's block is a fancy term made up by whiners so they can have an excuse to drink alcohol. -Steve Martin
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I want to leave this world the same way I came in; screaming and covered in someone else's blood.
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You would rather have a Lexus, some justice, a dream or some substance? / A Beamer, a necklace or freedom? -Dead Prez
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ManoftheNorth said
Mr. House allows a menagerie of people to enter the Lucky 38, everyone from business associates, to "personnel." The Lucky 38 will be a slight slight challenge, compared to some of the query of the Legion or the NCR. You can't even get to the Legion Camp without passage on a boat guided by his men. Lets conveen on a closer matter, and assemble the plot in stages. Where would you all like to start off?Secondly, I call dibs on the Survivalist/Beast Companion Character. I have had one made for months, and haven't got to use it yet.
I agree with this. I think we should start off in a camp across the water (and maybe hidden in a bunker?) close to the Legion. We don't need to RP a lengthy ass trek cause booooooooring.
Also, I think with this amount of interest one character each is sufficient. I really don't see any point in mucking it up with multiple characters. I am always for introduction of NPCs that we can all control though.
I'm going for female ex legion. Studies Deathclaws and other assorted beasts from a scientific point of view. A little insane and sometimes hard to understand because she spends time jumping from academia to beast mentality. Limited social skills. Left the Legion because she couldn't understand random brutality of people, though, ironically enough she has warmed up to the idea as her studies drove her insane.
You know what though? I really wouldn't mind playing a scientist still working for the Legion.
I think my last go at this RP we ended up with mad scientists trying to breed deathclaw humans and twin lesbian bounty hunters. This can *definitely* be awesome. No pressure. I'm excited.
You're doing a great job. Some people lag. Poke 'em in a PM and see if they are still interested?
I already have a character for this. In.
Tentative interest. Great concept; very well thought out.
In
League of Extraordinary Gentlemen/Penny Dreadful meets 1940's Indiana Jones/The Rocketeer/The Mummy
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10 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
I'm interested. I'm thinking more on whom I would want to play but I am leaning towards a member of Obed Marsh's family line from the cthulhu mythos.
Max said
Every Sunday night, without fail.
Haha. If you haven't been, go to New Orleans.
In my post I am going to introduce a couple of characters. I kind of have a love affair with character creation that makes my writing jealous. I don't mind if other people use them. I might make minor character sheets for them if I get bored or if they start to become a bigger part, but here is just a quick run-down so that you know. If someone joins and wants to play a similar character, or even one of the characters, talk to me. I can change stuff or hand it over. :)
*Race: Ghillie Dhu, Tree Spirit (of sorts) / Origin: Scottish/ Name: Beith
*Race: Nāgī, Serpent/ Origin: Ancient India/ Name: Ksveda
*Race: Loa, Keeper of the Crossroads/ Origin: Haitian Voodou/ Name: Kalfu
Not sure how everyone’s vodou lingo is but a mount is what a person is referred to when possessed by a Loa. “He was mounted by Kalfu and all night he drank whiskey laced with gunpowder.”
*Race: Ghillie Dhu, Tree Spirit (of sorts) / Origin: Scottish/ Name: Beith
*Race: Nāgī, Serpent/ Origin: Ancient India/ Name: Ksveda
*Race: Loa, Keeper of the Crossroads/ Origin: Haitian Voodou/ Name: Kalfu
Not sure how everyone’s vodou lingo is but a mount is what a person is referred to when possessed by a Loa. “He was mounted by Kalfu and all night he drank whiskey laced with gunpowder.”
Lunatae let her back fall heavy against the makeshift booth in the sitting room turned bar; an exaggerated movement accompanied by an inflated sigh that sent pale strands quivering about her. She clicked her elongated canines and it was hard to tell if this was out of frustration, boredom or deep thought; and in truth it was an amalgamation of all, resulting in a definite restless tune.
“Can the consequences of suppression really be worse than all these restrictions?” It was one of those hopeful questions that pleaded against logic; a logic that had no hope. Suppression wasn’t a new concept to monsters; or humans and gods for that matter. But her current company was the former, and they were innately aware of the struggles with suppression.
One of the said companions, a towering burly Ghillie Dhu that went by the name of Beith, leaned across the table and through the fog of pot smoke and sage. He rested his elbows on the table between them and with their proximity limited the smell of birch swirled into the existing aroma. His race was wholly unaffected by the maenad influence so he was much calmer than the third member of their party. He was one of Lunatae’s few neighbors that could spend time with her at will; though they had very little in common beyond their persecution. There was their nature based heritage, though the Ghillie Dhu would never truly reconcile the corrosion of the Maenad birthright; Beith was much to kind to say as much. A compassionate expression crept onto his features with a curling of olive tinted lips.
“Would you like to examine that path again Lunatae?” His composure and soft way of speaking often came off as condescending, though it was simply an unintended result of birth. When describing Ghillie Dhu’s stoic was an oft used expression. The Nāgī, on the other hand, had never been described as stoic.
The Nāgī who sat at their table, a virulent lithe thing that was called Ksveda, slammed a snake scaled fist onto the table, causing Beith to blink and turn gradually towards her. When she spoke it was with a steady underlying hiss, “Sssupressssion isss out. It’sss alwaysss been out and jussst to be sssure we’ve rulsssed it out esssery time we hasss had thisss conversssation for the passst ten monthsss. Isssss tired of sssupressssion.”
Truthfully, Ksveda wouldn’t/shouldn’t even be here. She was a ferocious entity in and of herself and had plenty of struggles attempting to contain her own violent personality. She was here because in a time that most could not remember, during the Kurukshetra War, Lunatae and her had been friends. (Friend is a tricky translation for the native Sanskrit race as they had never been intimate beyond the battlefield and blood lust, but there was a loyalty there.) While Ksveda didn’t understand the want to stifle self, she did understand the particularly toxic pull of the maenad. Even now Ksveda was beginning to fidget and twitch as the thin bindings of morality wilted. She itched at her scales and began to stand to exit. The other two gave ginger nods, Beith even going so far as to rest a calming hand on her shoulder.
“I’ll see you at the festival, Ksveda? And we meet again next week?” Beith said.
Ksveda offered a curt nod before turning towards the door. Her movements recalled the slithering of a snake so prominently that there had been rumors spread for centuries about her serpentine tail, but Ksveda’s legs were suspectly ‘human’. As Ksveda disappeared out of the door Beith began to stand as well.
“You’re leaving me too?” Lunatae stated more than questioned and when Beith offered a halfhearted smile she should have guessed at the rooms newest occupant had already been sensed by the tree fae, for as Beith opened the door a smoky gunpowder smell drifted in. Following the over powering scent was its owner, a devil in the flesh, a charmer of virgins, a connoisseur of the crossroads and Lunatae’s closest compatriot.
“Oh Beitheeee, you aren’t leaving on my account are you?” slurred the breezy Loa. Beith made a face that suggested some non-stoic comment, but his nature persevered and he offered a curt nod and was gone. There were little to no creatures of the light that could bare Kalfu Loa. He would have made a disgusting and disturbing human being, as his mounts would suggest, but Beith (as always) lacked the aggressiveness to tell him as much. He, like so many others, merely avoided Kalfu.
Lunatae watched the exchange with a deep rooted pleasure. Sometimes even she wondered if she was only friends with Kalfu for the shock value, but what a denial of nature that thought was. The vein of their lifestyles was just a section of the same reservoir; feeding and nourishing the pleasure of others, giving them what they want. And for an unlikely turn Kalfu made Lunatae feel like the killjoy in comparison. For what she lacked in control, he had all of and just tossed it to the wind.
“Still meeting with the churchy council to control yourself love?” His condescension was not a flaw of nature as Beith’s was. No, his was intentional and accompanied with that same wicked sneer that had started the house fire of Delphine LaLaurie.
Lunatae knew of Kalfu’s disapproval and greeted it by reaching for her cigarettes on the table. A claw like digit tapped at the pack and she removed one. “Ksveda is fucking right.” She meant he was right too, but uttering those words may curse her entire philosophical pedigree. She placed the cigarette between her lips, her words traipsing around it, dancing with the vowels. “I’m sure Zeus would be snickering in his crab infested drawers. Sad little Lunatae stuck in monster paradise and I have to keep myself locked up or surrounded by personality deficient assholes.”
“Even I know Zeus never wore pants.” Kalfu rested an ashy fingertip on cigarette and it sprang to life. Her lips pursed around it and inhaled, her speech not faltering by Kalfu’s interruption.
“It’s just…” exhale “after that whole centaur explosion. The talk with the engineers. I feel more trapped here than I did out there.”
“Whatever happened to that centaur anyways? I haven’t seen him.” Kalfu was changing the subject. If anyone was tired of her pity party’s after party, it was he.
Lunatae was listening, though her eyes were tracing about the window. Her cognizance was wandering between self-pity and outer loathing. She turned back towards Kalfu eyes radiating with an unspoken fuck you that could also be noted in her reply, “I sure as hell haven’t seen him. They’ve restricted me from all centaurs, orcs and trolls – most races pending.”
“He killed that wolf baby. I’m sure the wolves took him beyond the wall and slaughtered him.” Kalfu said this as if it was a delightful speculation, but with his nature…as nosey as it is… he surely knew what had befallen all parties.
“And give up this safe haven?” Lunatae suspected the same, but had spent months convincing herself otherwise.
Kalfu shook his head so that thick dreads bounced against his shoulders. His lips cracked a tsk tsk. “Listen here girl, pack laws have been around centuries…you don’t just give them up.”
“Look, I have enough problems without worrying about a dead wolf and an out of control centaur. It was last festival. I’m sure everyone has forgotten.” Brown eyes flickered with a blue and then cracked red. Her sarcasm was wholly unconvincing. She rested her temples upon those inhuman fingers and rubbed, cigarette bobbing between her knuckles. Kalfu momentarily felt a bit of pity, but it was a strange an unfamiliar emotion and, as always, it was discarded with all those other strange and irrelevant emotions. He reached down and pulled Lunatae to her feet with a singular motion and she was moving towards the door before she had time to respond.
“You need a drink and more importantly…I need a drink.” And outside they went.
“Can the consequences of suppression really be worse than all these restrictions?” It was one of those hopeful questions that pleaded against logic; a logic that had no hope. Suppression wasn’t a new concept to monsters; or humans and gods for that matter. But her current company was the former, and they were innately aware of the struggles with suppression.
One of the said companions, a towering burly Ghillie Dhu that went by the name of Beith, leaned across the table and through the fog of pot smoke and sage. He rested his elbows on the table between them and with their proximity limited the smell of birch swirled into the existing aroma. His race was wholly unaffected by the maenad influence so he was much calmer than the third member of their party. He was one of Lunatae’s few neighbors that could spend time with her at will; though they had very little in common beyond their persecution. There was their nature based heritage, though the Ghillie Dhu would never truly reconcile the corrosion of the Maenad birthright; Beith was much to kind to say as much. A compassionate expression crept onto his features with a curling of olive tinted lips.
“Would you like to examine that path again Lunatae?” His composure and soft way of speaking often came off as condescending, though it was simply an unintended result of birth. When describing Ghillie Dhu’s stoic was an oft used expression. The Nāgī, on the other hand, had never been described as stoic.
The Nāgī who sat at their table, a virulent lithe thing that was called Ksveda, slammed a snake scaled fist onto the table, causing Beith to blink and turn gradually towards her. When she spoke it was with a steady underlying hiss, “Sssupressssion isss out. It’sss alwaysss been out and jussst to be sssure we’ve rulsssed it out esssery time we hasss had thisss conversssation for the passst ten monthsss. Isssss tired of sssupressssion.”
Truthfully, Ksveda wouldn’t/shouldn’t even be here. She was a ferocious entity in and of herself and had plenty of struggles attempting to contain her own violent personality. She was here because in a time that most could not remember, during the Kurukshetra War, Lunatae and her had been friends. (Friend is a tricky translation for the native Sanskrit race as they had never been intimate beyond the battlefield and blood lust, but there was a loyalty there.) While Ksveda didn’t understand the want to stifle self, she did understand the particularly toxic pull of the maenad. Even now Ksveda was beginning to fidget and twitch as the thin bindings of morality wilted. She itched at her scales and began to stand to exit. The other two gave ginger nods, Beith even going so far as to rest a calming hand on her shoulder.
“I’ll see you at the festival, Ksveda? And we meet again next week?” Beith said.
Ksveda offered a curt nod before turning towards the door. Her movements recalled the slithering of a snake so prominently that there had been rumors spread for centuries about her serpentine tail, but Ksveda’s legs were suspectly ‘human’. As Ksveda disappeared out of the door Beith began to stand as well.
“You’re leaving me too?” Lunatae stated more than questioned and when Beith offered a halfhearted smile she should have guessed at the rooms newest occupant had already been sensed by the tree fae, for as Beith opened the door a smoky gunpowder smell drifted in. Following the over powering scent was its owner, a devil in the flesh, a charmer of virgins, a connoisseur of the crossroads and Lunatae’s closest compatriot.
“Oh Beitheeee, you aren’t leaving on my account are you?” slurred the breezy Loa. Beith made a face that suggested some non-stoic comment, but his nature persevered and he offered a curt nod and was gone. There were little to no creatures of the light that could bare Kalfu Loa. He would have made a disgusting and disturbing human being, as his mounts would suggest, but Beith (as always) lacked the aggressiveness to tell him as much. He, like so many others, merely avoided Kalfu.
Lunatae watched the exchange with a deep rooted pleasure. Sometimes even she wondered if she was only friends with Kalfu for the shock value, but what a denial of nature that thought was. The vein of their lifestyles was just a section of the same reservoir; feeding and nourishing the pleasure of others, giving them what they want. And for an unlikely turn Kalfu made Lunatae feel like the killjoy in comparison. For what she lacked in control, he had all of and just tossed it to the wind.
“Still meeting with the churchy council to control yourself love?” His condescension was not a flaw of nature as Beith’s was. No, his was intentional and accompanied with that same wicked sneer that had started the house fire of Delphine LaLaurie.
Lunatae knew of Kalfu’s disapproval and greeted it by reaching for her cigarettes on the table. A claw like digit tapped at the pack and she removed one. “Ksveda is fucking right.” She meant he was right too, but uttering those words may curse her entire philosophical pedigree. She placed the cigarette between her lips, her words traipsing around it, dancing with the vowels. “I’m sure Zeus would be snickering in his crab infested drawers. Sad little Lunatae stuck in monster paradise and I have to keep myself locked up or surrounded by personality deficient assholes.”
“Even I know Zeus never wore pants.” Kalfu rested an ashy fingertip on cigarette and it sprang to life. Her lips pursed around it and inhaled, her speech not faltering by Kalfu’s interruption.
“It’s just…” exhale “after that whole centaur explosion. The talk with the engineers. I feel more trapped here than I did out there.”
“Whatever happened to that centaur anyways? I haven’t seen him.” Kalfu was changing the subject. If anyone was tired of her pity party’s after party, it was he.
Lunatae was listening, though her eyes were tracing about the window. Her cognizance was wandering between self-pity and outer loathing. She turned back towards Kalfu eyes radiating with an unspoken fuck you that could also be noted in her reply, “I sure as hell haven’t seen him. They’ve restricted me from all centaurs, orcs and trolls – most races pending.”
“He killed that wolf baby. I’m sure the wolves took him beyond the wall and slaughtered him.” Kalfu said this as if it was a delightful speculation, but with his nature…as nosey as it is… he surely knew what had befallen all parties.
“And give up this safe haven?” Lunatae suspected the same, but had spent months convincing herself otherwise.
Kalfu shook his head so that thick dreads bounced against his shoulders. His lips cracked a tsk tsk. “Listen here girl, pack laws have been around centuries…you don’t just give them up.”
“Look, I have enough problems without worrying about a dead wolf and an out of control centaur. It was last festival. I’m sure everyone has forgotten.” Brown eyes flickered with a blue and then cracked red. Her sarcasm was wholly unconvincing. She rested her temples upon those inhuman fingers and rubbed, cigarette bobbing between her knuckles. Kalfu momentarily felt a bit of pity, but it was a strange an unfamiliar emotion and, as always, it was discarded with all those other strange and irrelevant emotions. He reached down and pulled Lunatae to her feet with a singular motion and she was moving towards the door before she had time to respond.
“You need a drink and more importantly…I need a drink.” And outside they went.
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