STATUS:
Sometimes you want to tell a event from diffrent, time, view points and so. Younc9uld be both in the present, and for another looking back.
1 yr ago
The sunlight reflected off the sea shining against the now reinforced and gleaming and crisp Tropico resort having been battered by the storms of water and life over the decades. Lesser hotels had come and gone but the Tropico remained. Jackson was hardly his father's closest son but seeing what he worked so hard to build crumble or be demolished would not happen on his watch.
"Urgh" Hearing the radio alarm morning weather report of high humidity and thunderstorms. "Never changes" muttering to himself as he got up watching the planes take off from the nearby base and bank away with a morning coffee. While some things he missed, mornings were definitely preferable as a civilian, though he still kept things tidy, made his bed each morning and othet habits like ironing shirts regardless if it be an wedding or trip to store.
Too busy for a work out this morning, he could make up later on having determined to keep in good shape, their was mwant to be a good old fashioned iron and chains gym too, probably should check it out.
Running a hand through his short dark hair, a quick shower later and a change into a crisp and ironed short sleeved white and pale blue narrow pinstripe shirt without tie, grey trousers and a brown leather jacket for the rain when the weather turned. Smart yet comfortable. Finding his black boots and sitting down almost instinctively polishing and bulling them to a shine before he left, Michael Jackson came on the radio as he made tight circles to the rhythm bringing each boot in turn till the rising sun reflected in the leather. It was almost therapeutic in its own way, and also good boots deserved respect and lasted for years if you did.
…
The Hungry V8 rumbled to life slowly turning over and rolling into the bright sunlight, the 1967 Chevy Impala's long black bonnet stretching out in front replete with bright chrome. A very different kind of therapy as 7 liters of American built big block V8 opened up onto the main road towards downtown and the Newspaper. The boot could probably hold a body or two, not that he had plans to ever do that, it certainly held plenty of beer before though.
Getting into downtown early morning was pretty easy, as long as you left before the many commuting masses in suits and boots from the suburbs. With time to kill before the newspaper offices really opened you never arrived before they had at least one coffee, from experience they never liked working without one. "Thanks, keep it" getting a copy of the Gab and sitting down on a bench glancing over his sunglasses, trashy but usually always on the money or close enough it was worth paying attention regardless how rag like it was. The rumour on fake art sales was worth knowing and Sena Knight was far from the first time he had heard that name mentioned before , usually related to some kind of antics.
Figuring the cerberus in human form… aka Janice on reception before she had a coffee was now sufficiently human he grabbed his briefcase stuffing the gab in his pocket and walking across the road into the large and hive like levels of activity that the Delta Times be pushing door open confidently striding to the desk. "Good Morning, i have some copy id like published in week day editions job section , advert, and how to order a back issue from 1948 please." Hopefully someone was in, much as he enjoyed taking the Impala out, Downtown and it's ever foreboding city hall of taxes and paper based hell was an area the less time spent the better. He also saw the Police station and its infamous" the deep" that from personal experience was far from as bad as local legend, but worse. Insidious, damp, no violence or such things. The soul destroying sensory deprivation, cold, unable to get dry…
Suppressing a shudder in memory he waited in the lobby for someone, there was a fax but it was easier to sort out in person.
Isabella was definitely not a morning person as humidity was already starting to rise again in Delta City and yet to have breakfast… feeling sticky and a cool shower soon felt more normal after a rather hot night.
Having moved from the Northern US it was a rather shock to the system, especially as the first night or two there was a big storm that suppressed the humidity for a while. Then it hit like a freight train. Her class still teased about reaction to seeing a Gator for the first time wandering about. Someone just grabbed it, cursed the Scaly Swamp Rat and threw it back over the fence. It was all kinds of surreal.
Wandering over the kitchen having found a comfy oversized t-shirt and dumping several spoons of sugar into her coffee savouring the sweet dark liquid. "Ouch" Catching self on something, being 5,10 was annoying at times especially when shopping or finding apartments with a bath you can fully stretch out in, finding one of those was a dream.
…
"Got it down, thanks professor Jones." putting the phone down with a satisfying clunk. Big, hefty and probably pretty old, the one in this apartment had a nice weight to it. Finishing her coffee watching the rather dramatic local TV coverage, rain later with high humidity, though she might be back in time to catch favourite show. Reaching the bedroom in the small apartment, fairly communal, had its own pool etc in the block and was popular with students sitting in the middle class area, not too expensive but nicer than the cheapest part of town.
Deciding to go a bit retro but fairly modern patterns in bright red, white with black details, 50's polka dot dress, with matching bright geometric earrings and necklace. The hot weather, humidity and more were too much right now to ever consider layers. First week in Delta she had to take it slow as heat was getting to her, she did not exactly want to visit the hospital in the first week.
While a bit quirky the tighter fit suited her slim figure, long legs and bright bold colours contrasted against her natural platinum blonde hair, plus suited the vibrant energy of the city. Something about the city just made you want to dress up, enjoy life and embrace the adventure.
Her low heels clicked along the tiles as Isabella walked through the lobby with her ever reliable leather messenger bag and hand bag, one proposal to hand in, PHD was as much paperwork and proposal as it was research and real computer stuff. "
Finding her little Suzuki Samurai exactly where she left it, an few clicks had the roof down, bags in the foot well and radio on playing as DJ announced a new Madonna song and advertising crazy gator or something close radio slot that according to questions was local legend for its brand of crazy, honesty and plain lunacy.
…
Reaching the university science faculty was not too hard… so long as you avoid the wrong merge and nearly end up heading down towards the industrial east rather than your planned destination. That would be kinda helpful. Her professor though Isabella was not sure if he embraced it for the joke or seriously in tweed, with leather patches on elbows, bow tie and even a waist coat on top… how he was still alive in this heat was some kind of magic. "Thank You miss Belle, as you're also assisting this year too, sit down and we can discuss how it works, sweet tea?" gesturing to a pot on the side, his hat and an battered diary lay on side wrapped in brown paper, pages spilling out along with oddly, an bullwhip alongside a long curved sword and a rough woodern cup...
"lI'll have a cup Please Professor , my letter was less detailed than i'd like, so be grateful." The office was lined with books of all kinds, papers scattered in piles and a board of half sketched out tasks. All in all it felt very much familiar to her Master's professors at MIT.
…
Entering the study area after a few questions and a hint about chess, well it certainly was on the money and she owed someone a coffee next time, it was usually PHD and such territory so he would be easy to find up here. Waiting for a pause in the game, chess she had played a few times but the two were playing far beyond her understanding so took out her book on ABC Programming language, a part finished code note book and waited as the game unfolded balancing perfectly on the slightly wobbly chair. It took a while as she managed to get one chapter done and make notes for an upcoming submission, scribbling down in a looping cursive.
"Hey Mark, how is the PHD proposal going? Chang bad as Jones on formating?." He was doing some computer related PHD, the exact title was some rather complicated academic mess as always. "Henry Koning? Im Isabella Belle, one of the PHD students, Computer Science. Professor Jones sent me over, not sure why, just well Professor's… mentioned a proposed somthing" Leaving the obvious question about the eccentricity of anyone with tenure. "I swear the older they get, the more cryptic they get like wizards. He gave me half the facts and sent me on my way."
Introducing herself, some people assumed the tall former dancer was a wide variety of things at times, it was funny at times. She still had joined the dance society for a little fun though and some exercise. Being a rare female student in the department, blending in was not exactly possible, so why bother hiding. Confusing professors with instructions that made as much sense as a morning cartoon. "Professor has sense of humour? He not set me up has he?"
Dislikes: - Obnoxiousness - Smoking - Cold weather - The local wildlife - Tourists
Zodiac Sign: Aries
Special Talent: She can sing rather well.
Profession: Middle school geography teacher
Bio/Personality: Usually friendly, bubbly, high-spirited. Charlene never had an issue making friends, even as a little girl. Born and raised locally as an only child in a typical middle-class family, the young girl had all her needs met and was occasionally spoiled as well. However, both of her parents had her on a strict schedule. She had to be back inside the house after dark and she couldn't go to bed past a certain time on the weekends. She was a well-behaved and disciplined child, doing chores around the house and learning how to cook from a young age.
Charlene was always one to do well in school, and unlike a number of kids within her age group, she actually enjoyed it. Her favorite subject back then was math, and she always breezed through her homework. On occasion, Charlene would volunteer to tutor her classmates and just about anyone else who needed a little extra help. For the most part, Charlene had a tight group of friends, but by no means was she a stranger to the outcasts from the "other" crowd. She was involved with them a few times throughout her teenage years and as a result, she found herself being taken home by the police. Her parents were not pleased, to say the least, but they would punish her accordingly and move on.
Knowing her future was at stake, Charlene buckled up and completed high school with near perfect grades. She had her mind set on teaching geography; not because she stopped liking math, but she had recently learned she like geography better. She brought up the subject with her parents and they were pleased, letting her know they were happy for her to go into a career she enjoyed instead of one she would regret later on in life. Not too long after establishing herself in the workforce, Charlene met Lawrence Grey. He was a recent medical school graduate out and about on a random weekend evening very much like herself. The two hit it off that night and the rest was history.
Favorite song:
Recent History: As of late, Charlene has been reliving her wedding through the photo album from that day. It was just over a year ago that she found her husband's brain matter splattered on the wall he was slouched upon, the silver revolver still in hand. Charlene was initially the main suspect, but further investigation ruled his death a suicide. While it's true that her husband's job was taking a toll on him, she didn't think it would lead to his demise. With the anniversary having just passed, Charlene hasn't been all that cheerful lately. Family and friends have attempted to reach out to her but she doesn't answer her phone these days, much less the front door of the single-bed apartment she just moved into.
Actor or Actress/Public Figure who would play portray Charlene in a movie:Selena Gomez
Tell us about yourself:
*Your age: 34 *What part of the world are you from? Havana, but been living in Miami since I was 10 *How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: On and off for a decade *How often do you have time to post? Few times a week depending on post length *Anything else you want to mention? I love hedgehogs
"These are the things that make a good story great and good writers even greater."
CS section 2 - Player Interaction Scale
Very Simple: Are you, as a PLAYER more a solo/small group poster or would you consider yourself a social butterfly open for anything?
Choose a number from 1-5 telling us where you would rate yourself in the above criteria. ONE being the least interactive and FIVE being the most.
Name: Isabella Daphne Belle "Bella" Age: 27 Appearance: A tall natural athletic Platinum blonde with gentle waves to her hair as it falls. Long legs, paler having moved to Delta from Less sunny climates and yet to fully tan. Dancers figure and fairly lightly built.
Golden eyes.
Height: 5'10 - 6'0 in high heals. Weight: 135 Likes: Mango, Dancing, Cocktails, sweet coffee's, good book, Night owl, great old fashioned diner pie. Dislikes: Gators (Great plan moving to Delta) , Lighting storms, fights, lobster, early mornings and decaf. Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius Special Talent: Talented dancer, from years of lessons as a child. Heals, no heals, sand or concrete, easy as pie. Profession: PHD student in Machine learning at Delta University Campus. Hoping to work at NASA. Bio/Personality:
Friendly, confident and energetic at least once she got used to people and places. Willing to throw herself into anything once.
Born into an academic family with enough wealth to at least be comfortable and fund her studies Isabella began as an awkward kid taller than half the boys and in and out of doctor for a while due to related health blips. Her family fostered a love of education that would later define her choices.
Dance classes soon became a joy and a treatment fixing her balance and control going from someone who could trip over a perfectly flat and level surface to an poised and skilled dancer. Doing well in junior contests boosted her confidence greatly. Eventually it was a choice between going professional in Dance or academics as both demanded too much time together. Deciding she wanted to go to college though some skills once learned are not forgotten.
Age helped fix her awkward looks and soon the odd girl out was the one everyone noticed for entirely different reasons but she never forgot. Brushing off all the former detractors and moving out of state, the first chance to go to college hundreds of miles away in New York and then off to MIT having graduated in the top 5-10% of her class.
Doing her masters in the latest technology with an ambition to work for NASA or another high tech industry, the chance to work for NASA was too much to pass up. Deciding to get her PHD in Delta, not too far from Cape Canaveral to make some contacts plus increase her odds beating the tough odds to get a foot inside the door.
Then Delta University offered a full ride scholarship with all fees paid, as a student and part assistant on BA Dissertations etc. Taking the offer without hesitation to get a fully paid PHD, the offer was good, the climate definitely was not the first choice though.
Delta was an experience moving from a Northern climate to the southern heat, the humidity and the gators… so many gators. First week she practically screamed seeing one wander by only to realize the locals were so used to them a man picked up a 3 foot Gator and threw it in a pond calling it an "overgrown scaly rat."
Maybe she moved to the wrong state, only probably a million of the things. The humidity could be tolerated but armoured dinosaur lizards casually roaming about where scary.
Now newly in a different city, with a different culture and entirely different climate to make most of life in the south. Life is for living and Delta City sure is lively.
An simple, somewhat basic but solid option in pale blue, the air con is the roof down, though runs first time every time. Fit everything she took to Delta, never faltered even after nearly 1000 miles with little pause and relatively light on stops to the gas station.
Still has a ding when she forgot it was in first and not reverse and radio is often on when driving tuned locally.
Your character's favorite song: Recent History: Moved to attend the local Delta University at the start of summer to get an early start and get used to the city before the more intense true semester starts in Autumn.
Also adapting to the rather humid and hot climates, coming from North America Delta City was definitely a shock to the system.
Has a first floor apartment in a partly communal block popular with students in Gulf Breeze that has a shared pool, good communal areas while mostly affordable and safer options for newcomers to Delta City.
Actor or Actress/Public Figure who would play your Character in a movie
-Inane Questions Concerning His Missing Right Eye or the Eyepatch Covering It
-Those That Merely Accept Their Pre-Determined Lot in Life
-Those That Lack Proper Etiquette or Social Graces
-Becoming Further Entangled in the Criminal Underbelly of the City
-Thinking About that Night.
Zodiac Sign:Gemini
Special Talent: Painting. As a sickly adolescent Dorian often wandered around his family’s rundown estate in Chattanooga looking for something to pass the time, he often followed the elderly LaValle’s around the crumbling mansion listening to them ramble on about the supposed masterpieces that used to adorn the walls, presumably before the now yellowing peeling wallpaper, and how those aforementioned valuables were parted with to cover one of the numerous tragedies that befell the once great LaValle family since time immemorial.
As a naïve child Dorian vowed to restore the lost treasures to their rightful place, even if he had to recreate themselves. Dorian, it seemed was a natural painter and by referencing waterlogged art books in the decrepit family library he over time developed a knack for mimicking the style of history’s most accomplished masters. Painting brought him a sense of peace and accomplishment that he had never really felt before. Though his reproductions or even his original pieces never seemed to impress his relatives as painting as a profession was not suitable for one baring the LaValle name; art was something to be bought and displayed not made. Circumstances dictated that he unceremoniously leaves Tennessee around his eighteenth birthday, and he eventually headed to New York to attempt to break into the art world. He quickly found that outside of the grounds of the crumbling compound in Tennessee the LaValle name meant nothing, it surprisingly meant less than nothing if it was on one of his paintings. A few years after arriving and making no detectable impact on the art scene Dorian was the on the verge of being completely destitute, at his most desperate he was approached by gallery owner and smuggler Hanbal Awad who introduced the starving artist to the world of art-forgery. They became partners and sold his fakes to art galleries around the tri-state area claiming that the offerings were what remained from the LaValle family's once vast art collection; though eventually they resorted to selling under alliases.
Profession: Dorian allegedly works as a senior floor supervisor at “Insane Jane’s” a consumer electronic chain that has recently rose to prominence throughout the state due to an advertising blitz featuring the titular Insane Jane (played by Delta-City Comedian Darla Fields) hocking merchandise at crazy prices from her padded cell at the funny farm. However, his position is what is known in organized crime as a “no-show job” meaning that he draws a check primarily for tax purposes and to further tie him to his criminal benefactors; he has never actually worked at the store in question and the employees are unaware of his supposed postion. His illicit trade is that of art forgery.
Bio/Personality: Dorian is a damaged person, with a chip on his shoulder. His family’s yearning for the prestige of prior generations did nothing but wear him down both mentally and emotionally; whenever the last perfect LaValle was born, the proverbial mold was broke and all those that followed that prodigal offspring had just been failing to capture something that was unobtainable. Despite his rejection of the path laid out for him, Dorian still adopted the trademark pride and pomposity that was the last refuge of his kinsfolk. He cannot help carrying himself like royalty with an air of pretentiousness or acting like he owns everything and everyone in any room he happens to walk into; humility and humbleness were virtues that were never taught to him. He feels like he has something to prove to the world, by becoming successful he innately believes he can undue whatever wrongs were supposedly leveled against his family. He envisions himself as an insular being constantly at odds with his surroundings and this drives him to push those he truly cares about away. It is easy to justify working with criminal elements when since childhood, it was drilled into his head that others are tools to use to advance one’s own interests above all else. This also explains his inability to trust in others. Over the years he has become subservient to these vices and comforts that his illicit gains have allowed him to pursue thus far.
Your character's favorite song: Up the Hill Backwards by David Bowie
Recent History: Dorian migrated to Delta City in 1986 to escape mounting pressure in New York, as due to his association with Awad and allegations from duped customers he became a person of interest to the FBI field office there. Cutting ties with his former partner who fled back to his home country of Jordan in 1984, Dorian half-heartedly attempted to turn over a new leaf and live an honest life, but found he was addicted to the pampered lifestyle that his dwindling gains brought him and almost immediately returned to forging paintings to supplement his income. With Awad out of the picture, Dorian aligned himself with Delta's City's Silverback Syndicate to distribute his pieces and mask his involvement. However, continued dealings with the notorious gang has only futher entangled himself with their expanding interests.
Celebrity:
Tell us about yourself:
*Your age: 28
*What part of the world are you from? Central Florida
*How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: 10+ Years
*How often do you have time to post?: 1-2 times a week; I find myself most free on weekends.
"These are the things that make a good story great and good writers even greater."
CS section 2 - Player Interaction Scale
Very Simple: Are you, as a PLAYER, more a solo/small group poster, or would you consider yourself a social butterfly open for anything?
Choose a number from 1-5 telling us where you would rate yourself in the above criteria. ONE being the least interactive and FIVE being the most.
There is no wrong answer, so please be honest. It helps us as GM Staff work out the best way to support our players and plan events that will appeal to everyone.
4
An eye... Aye... From me. Good to go. Welcome back!
Name: Jackson "Jack" Maxwell Rodriquez Age: 29 Appearance: (anime-style picture please, you can also include a description if you like
Tall, muscular, the half Spanish American and oldest son of Juan Rodriquez, short dark haired, bright blue eyes and an avid gym member and sportsman.
The odd tattoo includes a cross, an unit badge and others representing his almost rebirth.
Often wears a silver cross, or other chains.
Bi lingual in Spanish with basic functional spoken Japanese and Italian picked up in the Airforce.
Height: 6'2 Weight: 210 pounds Likes: Sun, Spicy food, hitting gym, sea or other physical activity. Sunset ans sunrise. Straight Whiskey and the outdoors with sun on your skin. Dislikes: Warm beer, bratty kids, being stuck in endless meetings and fake politics of business and pleasure. Zodiac Sign: Taurus Special Talent: In exceptional physical condition, rarely tires and physically tough. Though an long business meeting will send him to sleep faater than filing taxes. Profession: Former Military service and recently inherited the Tropico Beach Hotel upon the death of his father while out of the County.
Tropico Resort
A medium to large beachfront resort hotel set on the gleaming sands and crystal clear waters. Boasting a range of rooms from standard to large suites with expansive views of the sea.
With a modern beach bar, multiple restaurants and a newly established spa, arcade and other amenities. The old hotel is new once more.
Recently modernised the hotel has retained its grandeur and large ball room that to its rather confused owner remains popular among guests as has the popular house Mariachi group who peform both informally and small intimate concerts and other events such as weddings and parties.
The regular candle lit musical evenings on the beach have remained popular since the 50's and many couples have met under the candle light.
Founded by Juan Rodriquez in 1948, small starts have grown large, now owned and run by second generation, his son Jackson "Jack" Rodriquez.
Bio/Personality:
Much calmer on his return to Delta city, deliberate, honest and fairly relaxed about life except things with a serious edge when required such as business and his responsibilities.
Born into a comfortably off family of hotel owners Jack as he prefered to be named was a brat, an ass and walking disaster waiting to happen. By the time he was 17 he had wrecked a car, sunk a boat and was on his last chance. Probably not the only son or daughter, his father was locally well known as a womaniser and most guessed he must have multiple bastad children.
His father laid down the law hard shipping his son off to the US Airforce as first recruiter seen driving to find one where after bailing out from "The Deep". The Drill SGTs knocked him back once to repeat basic training and eventually hammered his ass straight by a combination of sheer will and a older tough Vietnam veteran Chaplain who finally managed to motivate, crack the problems and shaped the man to become more than a police statistic.
Channeling his misspent energy into the gym a fit but slim teanager soon piled on the muscle, good eating and intensive physical punishment built Jack into a 6'2 solidly built man surprising his father greatly as he excelled in the Airforce Security Police unit earning the Blue Beret with multiple postings in Italy, Europe, Asia and Japan especially later on going where the orders said. 8 years later, a 26 year old man completed his time as an MP and E5 Staff sergeant on Gaum arresting drunks mostly. Rather a 180 degree turn about being one applying the hand cuffs under the 36th security group officially at Anderson AFB.
His father was still somewhat distant even as his son turned his life around, moving about the globe, eventually earning his respect when a surprise arrived having said in a letter he carried a somewhat battered wheelgun feeling like slightly broke Wyatt Earp, sent his M1911A1 From service oiled and wrapped like a newborn in Grease paper and ticking like an swiss watch to carry still with its faded pin up sweetheart grips.
It was in Italy when he was visiting a rather attractive lady friend for a few weeks he met in Naples exploring Europe on money he saved up that his life got its next large change. The sudden death of his father and being given the Hotel, his suite, and made his main heir, something he once swore if he did not sort his life out he'd make the first hobo he met getting food leftovers from the kitchen the future owner. Having hidden his illness from his son, the first he found out any real detail was in the doctors letters found scattered about his father's office.
Thrust into a position of responsibility he never expected for some years and not after spending time under his father, the Hotel was neglected having hid his illness and reduced capacity, the fiancé's were not bad but hardly great, buildings missed repairs and much was growing badly dated. It took long hours and blood, sweat and much effort to make right the rot that had set in. Curing the rot was a lot harder than what caused it, over a years hard work to learn the business, restore and modernize everything from menu's and booking systems to more modern decor and restoring the exterior battered by the salty air and regular tropical storm seasons.
Refitted, gleaming and modernised the old hotel and its prime beachfront location was reborn, the Tropico Beach Hotel was restored as a grand and classic place to be seen sun tan and Soiree on the Florida coast.
A great mystery his father never told him who his mother was, an American woman but never a name, a photo… a complete mystery having spent his entire life he remembered with his father.
Even in everything he found, every old document, photo laying on the side, absolutely nothing.
21 feet and 3'500 pounds of solid American steel powered by a 7 litre rumbling V8 throwing out 425 horsepower. Painted in deep black and gleaming chrome, the 1967 Impala is his pride and joy.
Practical no. Thirsty yes. All american yes. Also probbly womw Motrin in the Glove box... (Full 4 door model)
Lying under dust covers on rests and rarely driven but mechanically excellent and deep red and chrome 1946 Pontiac Streamliner, his fathers favourite having sold most of the collection to a collector who would treasure them and reduce the rather expensive costs keeping them in good shape.
Your character's favorite song:
Recent History: Intense past year having spent time trying to reestablish the Tropico, now things are starting to tick more smoothly without a constant hand on the wheel. Jackson can live life again.
Actor or Actress/Public Figure who would play your Character in a movie pending.
(Reference images to plot elements, or for helping to describe a character are allowed. Please make these in hiders, real life, anime or drawn etc are allowed in this case.)
The following personal bio is not required (though CS Section 2 IS required), but we strongly encourage you to at least put a little something. In the past we have found that when players get to know each other as real people, not just as names on a screen, it helps the longevity of the game. Seriously, please get to know your fellow players.
Tell us about yourself:
*Your age: 29 *What part of the world are you from? United Kingdom GMT 0, team Tea. *How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: umm… several. Depends on definitions. *How often do you have time to post? Once or twice a week I guess. Not role played much since working full time so no idea. Learn as i go. *Anything else you want to mention? ¦Your friendly local government admin worker who enjoys some down time. Model painter, Sims player, part time zombie hunter and tea lover.
"These are the things that make a good story great and good writers even greater."
CS section 2 - Player Interaction Scale
Very Simple: Are you, as a PLAYER more a solo/small group poster or would you consider yourself a social butterfly open for anything?
Choose a number from 1-5 telling us where you would rate yourself in the above criteria. ONE being the least interactive and FIVE being the most.
3.5
There is no wrong answer so please be honest. It helps us as GM Staff work out the best way to support our players and plan events that will appeal to everyone.