Noxious

The Silver Leaves; A Northern Crusade.

What I meant was I've never had much honor and I need another 16 hours. ;) It took me longer working on another post. My apologies. This is now priority numero uno.

Fairytale Noir: New Arcadia

The apartment smelled stale. A stale that permeated all senses and whispered of unnatural debauchery; half drank bottles, unemptied ashtrays, and something sweetly rotten. The floors, which had once been well maintained oak, were now scuffed, cracked, and covered with discarded clothing, weapons, shoes, and pill bottles. A shabby mattress lay in the center of the bedroom covered with an oversized comforter without bed sheets. The missing bed sheets were tacked with little care over the windows; they blocked out most unwanted light but added little to the decorator impaired façade. Maybe cleanliness really was akin to Godliness.

From beneath the comforter kicked a red dock martin, half laced, attached to a pale fishnet encased leg that was devoured by the large covering. A loud cacophony of guitar and bass rose over the constant beat of the forest, beckoning from a cellphone beside the bed. There was a groan and a stirring from beneath the comforter, and then an arm breached outwards towards the phone. It missed and struck a bedside table sending a beer bottle shattering towards the door. “O’re’ouFUGINkiddin,” or some such noise escaped and then the phone was found and pulled beneath the covers. “Da?”

"Hey red. You asleep? Not anymore. You should go look for a new clock at 33rd street. Just, don't go for a drink at Ol'Boys. Trust me on that. Bye, see you soon." His voice the kinda childish, ugly glee filled panic that only Fox was capable of creating.

She released a heavy sigh as her arm curled around the edge of the comforter and pulled it away. Messy short black hair scattered about red exposed eyes. The black tips brushed across a fair and freckled expression, cringing while she scooted towards the bedside table, groping for a pair of sunglasses. Once they were found the large rimmed black shades were pulled on. Her shoulders visibly relaxed as she tried to coax herself into accepting alertness. She reached back to the table and grabbed a joint and a lighter, placing the joint between lips the perky red of sexualized youth and sparked it up. She inhaled while slipping the lighter into her rhinestone studded bra. She glanced back at her phone. Fox. Seriously? Why did they like this guy? She smirked at her phone and rolled her eyes at her persistent enthusiasm despite the rude awakening.

In a few short moments she stood up, taping the joint into the bedside table ashtray while picking through an assortment of pills; yellow ovals, circles, red capsules, circles, green squares, white bars, blue circles, capsules. Manicured nails the color of brick clicked through the pills, separating four and pulling them into her palm. Once satisfied she headed towards the bathroom, grabbing a half drank bottle of dollar store champagne along the way.

She set the champagne on the bathroom counter and looked through the pills one more time. Her mind howled at the thought of Fox, at the mayhem, but also at the possible need for her services. She let the RED pill fall onto the counter as she downed the anti-anxiety and amphetamines with a swig from the bottle. She inhaled from the joint one more time, 3 more quick puffs, then she put it out in the sink and rested it on the soap dish.

She pulled on an oversized white tank top that read MAT and a red hoodie decorated with a black spray-paint wolf while brushing her teeth, she switched a skirt for short denim shorts while finishing the last unopened cold beer, and she relaced her shoes while she swiping a hand across the nightstand into her wood thatch purse acquiring pills, cigs, mace, phone, wallet, switchblade, a set of dice and a book of matches that read “The Gutter” and was decorated with tacky stars. She was ripping into the edge of a large piece of jerky while slipping into the hallway and slamming her door, it jammed otherwise, ever since the rain, and she had to turn the key hard while lifting just slightly. The jerky raised as her cheeks flushed and dimpled with the strain and then she was making her way past the elevator and towards the stairs.

She was humming her own little doom song by the time she reached the expanding steps that led into the lobby. She always seemed drawn to the railings with their chipped gold accents bleeding into teals and turquoise of a time when this place had been decent, hell, fancy. Sunglasses bounced upon her cheeks even as she moved from the stairs onto the tile that seemed like paradise during a London fog until you got to the boots of Rich. Rich was about 6’10” of smoky hell prick. A real jerk that guy. “Bye Richie, see ya’ later.” She waved as she moved a good 7 feet by him and outside.

The place glowed with streetlight even when the sun was set. She made her way towards 33rd Street slipping between people as unnoticed as possible. It was about half and half. Some were drawn to her certain aura of trashy innocence, but some knew to steer clear, and some new nothing at all. The latter were the most likely to find their wallet missing a bit later if they stood too close for too long.

She arrived at the block of Ol’ Boys and she spotted an antique store across the way that seemed to have quite a few clocks. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know whose turf this had become. She was aware of where she was and she was no fan of Piggs. Rumor is ol’ Wolfe and ol’ Pigg had it out even in the ol’ World and so even now the Wolves and the Piggs survived doomed to hate each other. Her red stained lips curled into a sort of snarl as she lowered her sunglasses and her pupils yo-yoed about the intersection. Whatever she saw was satisfying, for the sunglasses and her lackadaisical expression were replaced and her bouncy step continued and slipped into the antique store. She wandered about near the window, keeping shaded eyes out for the fox. When she didn’t find him she decided to focus her attention at Ole Boys, half glancing at a mirror that was displayed towards the view while her body still jittered from lack of sleep and searching for a balance. As she reached up to rub a smudge of mascara from beneath her glasses she saw someone, something out of place approach Ol’ Boys.

She pulled her phone from her purse, double checking real quick that it was, in fact, her phone and not one she barrowed. She clicked in a passcode and set the phone to record just as the place blossomed and kicked into the block around it. She held the phone up recording the scene as she fell to her knees behind a headboard, giggling like a goddamn idiot. Thankfully all those around her were too shocked at the explosion to be paying attention to her audacious behavior that only crumpled further into a childish display. The video cut off as red and blue lights barely shone through the flames that danced in the street. She pulled her hood over her head, still shaking with her attempts at containing giggles.

As she stepped into the alley, dodging the quickly building police barricade, she was already typing out a text to the fox with the video attached. “Never a disappointment Mr.Fox. Do I owe you one then?” Her phone was slipped back into her pocket as she jumped up and grabbed the bottom of a fire escape. She shook it for release and when none came she pulled herself upward and climbed to a better viewing point. She pulled out a cigarette and enjoyed the fire against the horizon. She smiled as she exhaled and even laughed again, but she was starting to feel a little itchy. She inhaled. The calm wouldn’t last long unless she medicated.

The Silver Leaves; A Northern Crusade.

This an /fairytale/ are my priorities for tonight. I thought I would have more time this weekend but I will not rest until both of these posts are up. Let us say 14 hours max? On my honor. :D

Fairytale Noir: New Arcadia

I'll have a post up in the next 12 hours. Promise.

Fairytale Noir: New Arcadia

idlehands said
That they should, maybe they're the only ones to have escaped from her clutches & she wants them caught again . Sorry on my phone or I'd elaborate.

Totally what I was thinking. Plus it gives you both an added relationship to play with.

Fairytale Noir: New Arcadia

Lila Cane and Hansel and Gretel may have a past.

Staring Back with Chrome Eyes [Sheets] [Vampire Horror/Cyberpunk]

WIP ISE

Ode to Turbulent Flow:
Big whirls have little whirls
Which feed on their velocity,
And little whirls have lesser whirls
And so on, to viscosity.
- Lewis F. Richardson

Name: Isabella “Ise” Hägg‏
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Ethnicity/Nationality: Swedish



Physical Description:

Blindness clouds over any semblance of eyes, leaving sheet white orbs as the focus of a still pretty face. A barcode traces across her pale skin, memory of their intellectual terrorism days in the depths of the transhumanist movement. Her shoulders are narrow, lending to an appearance of angelic fragility. She usually wears a loose tank top that reveals the edges of a large tattoo honoring Heimdallr that spans her tapered back, from shoulders to hips and then sneaking below frayed jean shorts. Her skin was grafted around the connection cables that extended from the back of her skull, so that they fell seamlessly with braids and dreadlocks the same pale as her skin. The cables added a bit of color to her appearance, a deep red that matches her painted lips and then an assortment of green, gold and blue. Thick metal bangles covered both wrists, linking her to wireless and movement controlled systems within her programming.

Skillset:

• Security systems subversion, maintenance and tapping. Includes specialized knowledge in frequency emissions and variable coding.


• Computer data distortion and corruption.


• Specialized field work and studies in Electrophysiology and Neural Network Emulation. Her main focus in study was translating brain source code to another programming language. Heavy experimentation with mind transfers and corresponding technology.

History:

WIP

Psychological Profile:

After the accident she lost a lot of herself. Human mind and personal identity are generated by the emulated neural network in an identical fashion to it being generated by the biological neural network. She is reliant on computer technology, unlike her usual compatriots. She requires the electricity and triggers to survive and has to plug in to be alive. It is unclear if the immense involvement with computer technology has made her morally inept or if she was always inclined to favor knowledge and progress over human decency. To figure out the secrets behind brain uploading she would gladly sacrifice 1,000’s of human lives. She believes the Helsinki Declaration is a child of the bioconservatives and really isn't doing the world any favors. Her personality has been described as “stifling” and “strict”, but she does have her moments of letting go of all the streams and enjoying the company of others. Specifically her younger brother, Lucas, whom she adores and has a protective outlook towards (they both rely on one another heavily, so this is not a surprise). She has always been a compulsive gambler. Since the incorporation of the extensive neural interface she displays heightened apathy, hallucinations, some cognitive dysfunction and depression. Often calibrations and adjustments help to balance these feelings. The computer controls so much of her input that she can be extremely detached from reality- the computer dictates her reality.

Modifications:

• Extreme neural/computer interface and linking processor not previously attempted. Symbiotic relationship with high tech computer system. Necessary chemicals, electrical stimulation and monitoring provided by patches. Without the ability to “tap in” she would grow weak before collapsing into her previous comatose state. Actual brain patch mainly made of nanoscale carbon fibers and polycarbonate urethane. Some jacks, data cables, chemical and electrical feeder cables extend from the back of her head.


• Comprehension of volt and frequency emission that can be mirrored, ghosted or suppressed.


• Ability to communicate, corrupt or control wireless security and surveillance. Augmented “hack” tool that contorts coding into a neural language that she speaks as fluently as English.


• Communications suite, HUD and neural-computer, all standard issue -- Aspidas agents are able to text by thinking it among each other on a heavily encrypted wireless network. In fact, the computer works off brain impulses and is easily one of the most sophisticated and useful implants they have; what's more, its capabilities have yet to be fully exploited. The downside of this implant is that it includes a cortex bomb with an anti-tampering device. A captured agent can set it off, destroying the hardware inside, or a signal from control can do the same. This is to prevent the enemy from learning the capabilities of implanted agents.


• Internal air supply and aerial toxin filter -- this also has the added advantage of making the agent immune to vampire pheromones, as some types of vampires are known to use this to seduce their prey.


• Blood/liquid toxin filter -- the obvious is at work here -- vampires use their blood as a means of controlling mortals, and this system (and everyone, even non field agents, in the Aspidas organization have this implant) screens out one of most subtle weapons a vampire has, rendering them functionally immune to being controlled through ingested blood the way mortal thralls of a vampire might be.

Equipment:

• Back up of monitored/monitoring security systems and surveillance kept at Aspida. Never sent wirelessly. She picks and chooses what to save, often filing while watching. Her personal memory capacity is aided by a terabyte patch which is dumped into Aspida’s backup files every couple of days.


• Lucas is equipped with transmitters that emit varying wave frequencies (RF frequencies) that can communicate with systems controlled by short rang. Ise finds the required frequency and remotely triggers the release from (Hellis).


• Bugs. An aspida alteration of MAVs. They work in tandem with Lucas. Fully mechanical drones that she controls through one of her systems. They have their own separate jack extending from her neural patch. There are assorted models (from spiders to fireflies) handed down from scientists and engineers in the employ of Aspida. They are primarily used to track and record short range frequencies which Ise stores in a comprehensive database for later use. In a pinch they can be used in attacks as each small mechanism is capable of volt (measured voltage can be used to create compatability and release in 12 volt triggers), emp and frequency emulators. It may not kill a vampire, but Ise has no problem invading an organism and causing a bit of chaos. Lucas carries dense metal baseballs, once activated the ball breaks apart and releases a hundred small machines.


• Cloaking technology activates when she logs in, creating a frequency block at the entrance of the “server” room that emits heavy frequency’s detrimental to mental stability while in range. If someone gets past this they are met with a heavily encrypted door. All implemented to protect her while in her roaming state.

Other:

• More susceptible to brain hackers, malicious memory alteration, deliberate distortion of subjective reality and experience.


• There is no way for her to know how much Aspida controls in her reality, personality and actions.

Staring Back with Chrome Eyes [Vampire Horror/Cyberpunk]

smoke-n-scotch said
I am going to make a former investigative journalist/self-proclaimed vox populi), whose main addition to the team will be perfect memory (with all its drawbacks) and ability to withstand a mixture of painkillers/adrenals that would kill a normal man. Am I stepping on someone toes?

Not at all for me.

I was also thinking someone could have some UV augmentation. Good for fighting vampires and lighting scawwy alley ways.

OR someone with a mathematical analysis for warfare that would allow forsight into battles based on mathematical systems. (Lewis Fry Richardson)

Staring Back with Chrome Eyes [Vampire Horror/Cyberpunk]

BakerClanEmpress said
Every role is going to seem cliche, because every role has been made before. It's just the way of things, don't let that feeling keep you from creating and putting your own flare into it.

I agree with this. I mean, Hellis and I are playing blind siblings. That could be cliché. It is all about the spin you put on it and the way you play your character.

HellOfALife said
I was thinking this should be the reason for my character to undergo the procedure, but I can't think of a skillset other than maybe someone who's a talented marksman, idk why but those ideas sounded really...cliche to me I guess. What do any of you think?

I think this could definitely work. Quicker reflexes or vision or both. I think it is always more important to create a playable character and a marksman would definitely be a helpful addition to the group. :D

HeySeuss said
I can post a sample character, but I really wanted to rewrite that before putting it up. I'll see if I can get that rewrite done here and now.

I think I can have my character posted by the end of the day, but I still need to bat around some ideas for history with Hellis so it wont be entirely completed.

Staring Back with Chrome Eyes [Vampire Horror/Cyberpunk]

Someone could also be infested with nanomedicinal technology (small robots that heal damaged tissue). There are positives and negatives you could explore with this as well.