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wakingthedead2014-05-20 03:01 pm
geistnet) wrote in wakingthedead2014-05-20 03:01 pm
Entry tags:
testdrive | welcome to the new age.
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testdrive meme.
1. First Day At Falner
You have just arrived at Falner Estate, a sprawling, beautiful, 400-hectare co-located space between Britain, Germany, and the Philippines, and the main base of Netsach. The flora and fauna in the area gives both a sense of familiarity as it looks at first glance like things you’ll find on Earth, and a weird sense of otherworldliness. Given the size of the place, the Estate is less of a compound and more like a town unto itself. The older buildings within the estate are gothic in their construction, and clear throwbacks to 19th Century Europe. The newer facilities, however, sport cutting edge contemporary designs that were clearly inspired by Fourth World architecture and technology.
If you want a better idea on what can be found on the estate, you can refer to this link.
2. A Day On The Job
You are pushing papers at Methuselah, doing research at the Arcanum, or going out on patrol -- whatever it is that you're doing, it's just another day for you as a Hunter of the Vigil.
3. Let's Head Down to Haven
Find yourself itching for a night out on the town? Why not head over to Haven, the classy nightclub that looks like a large, monolithic black building with no visible windows from the outside and the name of the club emblazoned in bold, white letters on one side.
Haven is located in Makati City, and is open to the public (especially the local supernatural community), but you might want to prepare yourself to wait in line for a very, very long time – unless you’re a Hunter, of course.
Falner’s Maenad Division holds office on top of Haven, as does Ordo Daywalker. Some of Haven’s staff also live above the night club.
4. The Awakening
Want to tag out your character's origin story? Set the stage and let's see where things go.
5. Choose Your Own Adventure
If none of the suggested premises hit the mark, feel free to set things up and let's do a tag round.
Instructions for the Testdrive:
1. Specify your chosen scenario number on the subject line.
2. Should you wish to tag with a specific character already established within Waking the Dead, indicate who. The current list of available NPCs can be found over here.
Morgan Avechi Option 3 and Open
She sits on his arm like the decoration that she is supposed to be. Hair down following over her shoulder in rich waves that give just the right impression of tousled to be both acceptable and still elegant - chic like the black and blue column dress complete with heels that provide the right arc to a woman's calf and enough height to look her at her companion comfortably without being taller than him.
Morgan smiles as she's supposed to, utters low answers with charming but forgettable answers as expected, and curls into the comfortable position of 'eye candy' while he discusses business.
Of course this is business for her too even though she's far, far away from home. As much as she had no care to leave her home country, the payment - half before and half after - is more than enough to consider playing charming girlfriend for people she doesn't know. Even if that's the easy part. Well until they begin discussing business minutia and then she wishes to be anywhere else but here.
"Excuse me, dear." She says gently, touching his arm and sliding free of the booth. The ladies room may not make for the most interesting of trips but she can wind through the crowd and get a little lost inside of it for at least thirty minutes by her reckoning.
Straight backed, with her head tilted up, and wearing a faint smile as if she finds something around her enjoyable, Morgan makes her way in no particular hurry. Who knows, if she walks slow enough, she can stretch her absence to thirty-five minutes.
Hey thar sexy thang. ♥
Granted, that just makes the lines for the new ones and the curious even longer. Good thing he doesn't fall into that category.
He lights up a cigarette, takes a drag, and leans back on the couch that he's sitting on some distance away from the dance floor and tucked close to the quiet end of the bar. It's a busy night, busier than usual, but he doesn't mind. The noise and the ambiance are a welcome change from the many shades of dead and dying that he has to do while he's on Duty. It might be difficult not to notice him, given his looks and the ease in which he carries himself. Granted, he's a known face within the Vigil, and to anybody who keeps their ears to the ground and their eyes to the sky in high society, the corporate world, global politics, and the underworld. Blade King of Japan, and the Wolf of Zangyaku. Go figure.
/insert comical brow waggling here/ Well hiiiiiii~
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/slides in here
Cisco's at her usual spot by the corner of the bar, choice drink set on the counter by her arm as she listens to the DJ up in the booth tonight. For the fresh faces, she looks, for all intents and purposes, like a woman in her mid-thirties, perfectly at home in her nightly post-work haunt, here to unwind and chill out.
Re: Morgan Avechi Option 3 and Open
You're liable to find him at a table near the dance floor, drink on the table, cigarette in his mouth. Most people peg him for one of those stylish club scene kids, and who wouldn't? He's wearing a stylishly fit hoodie, sleeves pushed up to his elbows; dark jeans that hug in all the right places, and sneakers in a deep enough red to match his top. The gloves he's wearing are different though, white with mulitple colored blocks across the knuckles.
Naturally, he's already said hi to several people, and is still smiling because the night is so incredibly young, and so is he.
Sophie Morgenstern; 4 but secretly 1 and Open
For the better part of the next 24 hours, Sophie had been going in and out of consciousness, flashes of white robes, gathering people and the hum of a plane's engine lulling her back to sleep. No strength to panic, no strength to make questions, they would need to wait. So wait she does, the memories of blood and death creeping into her mind, not even the fog of rest capable of fending them off completely.
When she finally managed to woke up properly, Sophie found out they were a long way from the United States, but she couldn't get much more from the crew on board. She recognized Netsash, because the uniforms are hard to forget, but otherwise she didn't have the faintest idea of what was going on. They were uncooperative, to put it in a polite way; downright frustrating is another, and Sophie would've loved to argue with them if she hadn't felt that pang, that crawl inside of her, like fingertips caressing the inside of her skull. Something was different, and as much as she hated to admit it, she needed help, help which maybe they were capable of providing.
They landed somewhere she didn't recognize, Sun past its zenith, but still up and strong. A car was waiting for them. It wasn't until Sophie walked out of the plane that she noticed her clothes were not her own; her bloodied sweatpants and top had been changed for nondescript gray, yet clean ones. She didn't even have time to ask who the hell had put their hands on her; the uniformed ones were already gone. Swallowing down her anger, Sophie got in the car. It was an hour long ride, no music.
The only reason she recognized the Falner State was because the place was so ridiculously massive you just didn't forget about it. Her uneasiness was replaced by intrigue as they drove in and down the long path that ultimately took them to what looked like a really old, really opulent mansion. The car stopped, the door opened on its own. Silence. Sophie go out and the car basically drew away as the door closed itself, not a word of advice, not a single indication. Frowning, Sophie turned towards the doors.
A man stood there. Asian, by the looks of it, barely older than her...or was he? The moment their eyes crossed something resonated within Sophie, much like in the plane, but this time it was softer, almost subdued. One moment he was just a man, the next he seemed to irradiate a cold, piercing aura. And then he was just a man again. Or was he? The moment Sophie realized he was about to walk down the stairs, she decided she would find out soon enough.
OPEN
Sophie sat on a mat at the gym, sweating. Three hours of violently hitting dummies with training swords would do that to you, Bladian or not. Now that she was ridiculously tired (but not for long) it would probably be safe to approach and chat the girl up.
hallo darling :3
New faces in Falner were always a given. New ones frequenting the gym were of interest to him.
Snagging the spare towel from inside his duffel, he comes on over to offer it to the new girl.
"Nice work." He's glancing over at the dummies at that, an appraising smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
haaaai
uwu
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sob finally getting around to tagging this
So here he is, walking down the stairs, smiling at the girl who has just been deposited at Falner's doorstep. Nothing in his movements nor in the look on his face or eyes indicates at how he's measuring this one, checking her physical condition, her state of mind, her Pattern, the thing within her. No need to be so obviously the "near-god" that he is (Aidan's words, not his). Introductions are in order.
"Hi. Hope the ride wasn't too boring."
it's okaaaaaaaaay
AND THEN I DIDN'T GET THE NOTIF FOR THIS damn it dw
I DIDN'T GET THIS ONE NEITHER
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That being said, he does his kata on a wooden training dummy off on one end, only stopping after a pretty even two hours, before he plops down on the mat.
"Hi. Gatorade?"
He's got a second bottle with him, and is sliding it to you even as he drinks his down.
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hello bb bladian uwu
...To which she was early. Very, very early. She was going to spar against the riskbreaker she inherited her knives from, of course she was going to get herself warmed up a bit. Or a lot. Her sparring partners had asked to take a break, though, which disappointed her a little. But she lingered around the gym, hoping to find another sparring partner or several.
Yulia was already considering calling Brigade for a spar instead, when someone caught her attention. The girl was practicing--or at least, it looked like she was practicing swordplay on practice dummies with training swords. It looked more like she was trying to actively murder the dummies. It had amused her, at first, but then she found herself very interested.
Not everyone fought as violent as that. Not people she knew in Netsach, at least. Zangyaku, on the other hand...
She spoke to the girl when she flopped down on the mat. "Are you from Netsach, or somewhere else?" Yulia asked, genuinely curious.
best first impressions uwu
of course :>
Re: of course :>
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hallo hallo!
... seemingly. A crowd of five rushes him and are promptly halved at the torso in one sweep by his sword, now somehow almost as tall as he is. He leaves his back open, and a mook attempts to blindside him. Said mook is clobbered on the chin by the handle of a naginata that you could have sworn was the sword before, and then, as the oversized spear is flipped over, is skewered at the chest and flung aside. And so on, and so forth.
He is finished with his meditation of violence around about the moment you finish with yours. He'll be walking over to you just then. He offers you an energy drink, by way of greeting.
"Excellent form. Care to try that with real swords? I really think you're ready for it."
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Esperanza 'espie' Cervera | 5 and 1
I. The Drop Off ( open )
( ooc: be gentle! working all kinks out and getting all my knowledge in too still but super ready!! )
Tagging into the Drop Off, naturally.
Of course, he was sidetracked by Aidan. Which is probably why he's just sitting on the steps of Falner instead of inside with Inquisitor Aria Skye.
'Hm?' he thinks, when he sees the car. While it wasn't odd to see cars dropping off operatives, the girl he saw step out didn't exactly look like a hunter.
'A new arrival, perhaps?'
well hello there!!
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5. Just as planned. ♥
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drop off ofc
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Drop Off!
anri obel | 4 + 1
OPTION 1[ ooc | hi bye i'm excited... also still doing some writing on him and feeling him out ♥ ]
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And that, at the moment, was the lake at Falner's North District. She'd been there only a handful of times, and never on her own terms, so it was one of those rare places that no one would (probably) think to look for her.
The place would usually make her want to gag at the couples walking hand in hand, or kissing when they think no one is watching. There wasn't a lot of people at the lake right now, however, save for that one kid skipping stones on the lake. (Okay, so it was the one stone, but still).
She was quiet enough not to be noticed, so she'll stay by the tree she's standing under with the unlit cigarette between her lips.
(Cutting back on the cigarettes?)
Not really.
(So you are being lazy.)
...Eh.
There is a soft chuckle in her head from her sister. She could manifest right now, if she wanted to, but perhaps Anya also wanted to give the kid a little space. One Bostova in the area is enough, or something.
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ＯＮＥ
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004, also known as PAM IS SO LATE HELLO
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open post yo
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/pops in here, 1 obviously
CISCOOOOOOOOOOOO yodels
8DDDDDDDD PERFECTION
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Ohai. Tagging into option 1. Muhaha.
hello hello there c:
Re: hello hello there c:
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Option 1 ofc also HI
HI THERE ouo
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Option 1
Keegan Lang || Option 1 + open
[Writing is his passion. Has and always will be– he's known this for a long time now. It's been his luck (and blood, sweat, tears, time) that he's landed in the profession of his choice. He's been hopping from job to job over the past few years before he found this company. They let him freelance or work wherever he wants, just as long as everything is on time (it always is). And over the course of his employment, they've given him more and more work to keep him busy, enough that he's comfortable living on his own.
Enough that he can still help support Emi and Shaun, even with all the miles they have between them.
There's probably a rule in parenting and marriage that one should never fill the gap of affection with money, but they didn't live his life, they weren't in his shoes, and he would never wish anyone to be there, quite frankly. Moreover, it's not as though he doesn't feel attached. Quite the opposite. And that's what makes it harder to deal with. The decision of distance was really best for all of them until he could get his life back in order (being what he was made that very difficult).
At least he still has his work, which is what brings him here, to a very unlikely place. Working abroad had never been out of the picture, necessarily, though he never imagined that writing would end up with him in the Philippines. Except he's here, has been here for little over five hours; counting when the plane touched down to when he's making his way to the place he'll be working in. Glancing down at his phone (thank god for GPS), he steps foot into the entryway of the compound, a bizarre feeling washing over him when he looks around. There's a prickling at the back of his neck that makes him feel like something isn't quite normal here, but he tamps it down fiercely.
Because he's not going to let that dumb wolf lurking in the back of his mind to so much as growl while he's here. Least, not until he absolutely has to.
Determined to appear as absolutely not-werewolf-as-possible, he keeps walking, eventually finding himself a bit confused by the layout of the place. This might be a good time to ask for directions.]
Excuse me, do you know where I can find this address?
a Wild Pam!Werewolf appears!
[And the guy you were approaching was just about to launch into legitimate baby noises when he hears you coming. His face, which was already fixed into Full On Doting Father Mode, immediately smoothens out as he squares his gaze up to meet yours.]
Oh, uh. Sorry, gimme a bit...
[Covering the receiver now (Margaret Montelibano-Profaci, if you hang up without telling your father, there will be Words), and checking that piece of paper.
Given how this guy is blond, light-eyed and well-dressed in the holy shit fancy suits kind of way, you are welcome to think that he is either a businessman or a gangster.]
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Wai hallo thar.
/waves shyly
Re: /waves shyly
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/is rough w u i know how u like it bby
we're gonna assume it's night so she doesn't go up in flames
wolfpapa is this gentle enough uwu
Mason Turner, Option 4, Open
"The Golden Hand, huh?"
The prince (always with a lowercase "p", the Prince with a capital "P" was that Prince after all) takes a look at the nourishment in his glass, still rippling a bit from being swirled like wine—another mimicry of mortal habits fostered by the covenant that had so far managed to completely run his unlife. The carpets and chandeliers, the blood dolls, the toadies and the lackeys. Everything and everyone in his little nighttime corner of America, ordered and engineered to make it known to all the living and the dead that Mason Fucking Turner owned this city.
Another sip then his eyes fall on the Detroit skyline. His skyline. Listen hard enough and you just might hear the gunfire in the streets below. His streets. A bullet here, a knife there, a few screams and it's back to the usual silence of the night. His night.
Netsach. Delegation. Golden Hand.
Keywords and phrases; his late Sire taught him to tune out the gibberish. Keep the important words in mind, then ask those you trust only after adjourning. 'Trust' of course meant 'those who aren't planning to oust, exile or outright execute you'. Few enough as it may, even among his own covenant.
His moving corpse goes through the motions of a sigh of exasperation, without the breath. A month into the so-called Danse Macabre and here he is, still moderately succeeding at getting his walking corpse to act alive. Subconscious? Unconscious.
He finishes off his drink and steels himself for yet another night, slinking back into his seat. Sit straight. Voice of command. You are regal, and they will obey. Practiced inflection, rehearsed line.
"Seneschal, I will see the next one if you please."
(OOC: Err, only sure tag I got for now'd be...
CLOSING this thread since it's option 4! Bri, make another open post for other options. :0
(In actuality, she's looking for possible threats and measuring the situation. She couldn't give a lesser fuck about furniture and other shit right now.)
She isn't alone tonight: her husband, Alejandro Raura, walks to her left. The rest of her entourage is just beyond the door, waiting. Enough about them for the moment, though: she's walking towards Mason with a smile.
"Good evening. I'm sure you heard that I was coming."
Just, what Mason probably didn't hear was when or how.
Re: CLOSING this thread since it's option 4! Bri, make another open post for other options. :0
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Huzzah, posting at home means I can has icons!
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Mason Turner, Option 1, Open
He was expecting an elite Netsach hit squad armed to the teeth, blowing through his Invictus guards like wet tissue paper. Instead he had been greeted by a smile and a Spaniard: the famous Golden Hand, her equally-esteemed husband and the former's Ordo Dracul escorts, who had of all things managed to engage his assembled courtiers in some witty repartee. With the violence of the past month he was expecting Detroit's Kindred to put up a fight at the first sign that he was leaving, but what transpired seemed more like he was a tired CEO being dragged off to a much-needed vacation—all smiles, goodbyes and well-wishes. He had come to expect a team of mages ready with a portal to take him straight to the fabled Haven, but the entire group simply took a flight back to Manila with him in tow.
He distinctly remembers wondering if the woman who had strutted into his audience chamber really was the Golden Hand he'd heard so much about. His eyes told him that she was eighteen; the Beast inside told him that she was roughly twice his age in 'vampire years'. The dead told tales of how she could singlehandedly kill an entire Belial's Brood coven with her eyelashes or how one snap of her fingers could force the vitae out of your veins, all at once. Some even believed that simply saying her name would bring Ordo Daywalker down on your haven like the proverbial hammer driving a stake through a heart.
The Inquisitor who had flown him across the world proved to be none of this; truth be told, she seemed more like that favorite aunt who's always ready with a peck on the forehead and a hug when you scrape your knees.
He takes in the sights of the Estate: The hover trams, the old-school architecture alongside Fourth World innovations, the people. Oh, the people!
A vampire's first impulse upon arrival is always to size up potential prey and other predators upon arrival, but nothing in his 'education' as a prince had prepared Mason for the sight of so many different mundies and supernaturals in one place. Though the Veil had been lifted decades ago and supernaturals were part of a kid's schooling these days, Detroit's prince had seen none of that during his mortal life and only other Kindred in his first month among the dead. His head would be spinning if he was still biologically capable of being dizzy.
After a month of the boot-licking and throne-sitting, here he stands thinking that in the end, he really is just a petty thief who by happenstance picked the biggest pocket of them all.
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Hello there stranger, have another Kindred walk your way, hands in her pockets and discrete smile on her face. Only a week "old", the power of her blood isn't all that impressive, probably, and judging by her walk and own obvious interest she isn't there to throw her weight around. What weight anyway? She's a petite blonde with fangs, and seriously not one to go and cry to her sire (mostly because her sire is pretty damn scary); no, she's there because she might have heard of a vampire is arriving and hey, he's a vampire.
"Newly arrived I assume?"
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Still not getting over TITA Barbie. :3
Normal? Ha ha.
Re: Normal? Ha ha.
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sup brah
Re: sup brah
Ella Ryan, 5 (locked to Riley Falner, Open)
It has been a little over two weeks after being Embraced, and Ella feels like she had delayed this for too long already. It had come up in conversation with Barbara a few times, that Riley was not only the big vampire in charge (much as he acted like it wasn't that way) but also her mentor and, Ella guessed, something of a surrogate sire to her. Not that Ella had dared to ask, because even though Barbara had been trying to be open with her, time needed to flow naturally between them.
But Ella is very happy, even when she sees her blurred reflection or when she pops her fangs and bites her tongue...or when she tries to use Celerity and runs into a wall (once!).
So there she is, making her way to where Barbara had told her Riley usually spent the idle time; up in the Malice Kings' floor, where security to enter was so tight she was surprised to be let into. Her sire had most likely let the guards know, and being the childe of the Golden Hand carried a few perks on itself.
Reaching which she was pretty sure was his room, Ella hesitated for an entire minute before finally knocking. "H-hello?"
Open
The thing with only being active at night was that most people were either asleep or away in missions by then. The state always had activity though, but she was pretty sure it was more obvious during the day. Most people awake during the night seemed to be either busy with important business or looking to make their ways to bed.
Still, that doesn't make much of a dent on Ella's mood; it simply means she has more freedom to roam the place and use the facilities, within reason of course. People that come in an out the Falner State might find one Ella Ryan in one of several places:
a) On the gardens, probably plopped on the grass, reading a book while sipping a blood bag.
b) By the entrance, perched on a corner with her cellphone out and making an awful job of pretending she's not checking everyone that enters out.
c) Getting lost in the greenhouse, as you do.
Pick your favorite choice!
A!
It's the odd scent of blood and plastic that has his nose turning upwards, tongue sliding over his teeth and jaw as he looks around and makes his way towards the shape of a young woman sitting in the garden, a book spread open in her lap and bag full of blood being sipped at.
Huh.
He's certainly not after her blood, but rather, the company might be nice. His muzzle is still a bit stained, but he decides he doesn't look too menacing. Just like any other dog. Most people can't tell the different between dingos and regular old house breeds anyways. So here is just peeking out from some bushes and looking at her. Hello.
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B - Enter one Gray Magallanes and his Dragon
dragon o.o
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Gray Magallanes Valverde - Option 3 [OPEN]
Tonight, though, Gray is seated by the counter, drink in one hand and meal laid out beside him. He's listening attentively to the music playing throughout the club while his eyes glance around at several other customers. As expected, there were many regulars (a fair number of whom were hunters), but there were also plenty of new faces around tonight.
Overall, it was a rather interesting - albeit uneventful - night, and it doesn't look like he was going to mingle anytime soon unless someone approaches him (and the little green dragon curled up at the next seat, wide awake and watching the rest of the club as well).
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Unfortunately, that thought is also writing itself all over her face, making her look at least half her age and way too wide-eyed for her own good. Thankfully, while Haven might LOOK like a club straight out of a TV show, it isn't. Hence, she isn't getting too many funny looks (or judgmental ones, for that matter) for the fact that she's definitely not dressed like she's out for a night of partying. One might even go so far as to say that she looks like she's about to pick up a shotgun, climb into a truck and head up to the mountains for some hiking.
After a good, solid ten minutes of wandering around and gawking at nearly everything she sees, Segan plopped down on a table close to the young man with a dragon (Wow, I've never see one of those up close...), taking one last look at her surroundings, and then pulling her phone out of her arm.
That's right. Out of her arm.
It's one of the things she likes about being a Technomancer. All the utility, none of the ridiculously big bags and pockets.
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Roll Perception (Wits + Composure)! Put the full results of the roll + tally of successes up here!
Wits 3 + Comp. 3 (w/ Trained Observer): 7, 9, 10 (4), 2, 3, 3 [Rote: 4, 9, 8, 8, 2] = 5 Successes
\o/
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Max Rivers - Open Beautiful Trainwrecks
So after a whole lot of Crap We Are Not Talking About™ (read, running into Rivers Hunters after carefully hiding for the better part of her 18 years and blowing her cover because being a God Damn Hero apparently runs in the family), Max finds herself unceremoniously kicked out of a car in front of Falner. The fact she tried to punch the driver and steer the car away might have had something to do with his rudeness, of course. She just sits for a moment there, glaring at the world like a little spoiled brat, which she kind of is at the moment. It passes though, and she stands up and pats off the dust out of her dirty, old, nondescript clothes. The only thing of value on her person is the ring on her right middle finger, made of some metal you just don't normally dig out (her father's ring, who he got from his father, and the father of his father, and you know where that legacy crap goes).
The other valuable thing is the giant mystical tattoo thing on her back, but her beaten up leather jacket covers what her top doesn't, so prying eyes will be disappointed. Not that she thinks many people besides her can read it. Stupid legacy crap.
She has no backpack, whatever money she had with her at the moment and a random stolen cellphone she had taken before all the shit hit the fan, and now she was in front of some fancy schmancy mansion. Well, she's there already. Better check if she can make herself with some of the fine silver before they kick her out again.
B. Random shenanigans are love
The dude's name was something something Rivers. He knew her dad (or was it her dad's dad?) and apparently the old man had been something of a big shot, a pain in the ass and one of the odd Rivers to pick up his shit and walk away from The Vigil; all in all it seemed like her almost dried out river was held in both admiration and contempt, and somehow it was her job to put make amends for them.
Screw that, Max had tried to say, but the Rivers dude (they were all Rivers dudes in the end, anyway) had put a heavy stack of papers on her arms and pushed her down a hall, because she obviously had nothing better to do. She was supposed to be a student, not his damn secretary. The pile was already dangerously inclined to the left by the time she realized she had no idea of where she was going, and when she tried to stop someone to ask for directions, the whole thing came crashing down; the woman she had tried to stop was nowhere to be seen. Classic.
"Fuck fuck fuck." The litany of low key cussing carried on as she knelt down, trying to make sense of the files spread all over the floor. She was this close to call it quits and leave it all there. Fuck that Rivers dude.
C. Haven! Booze!
Half an hour after sitting by the bar, Max has finally managed to get a bottle of tequila all for herself. It's been quite a day and she wants to get dead drunk and be done with it. It's a pretty expensive bottle too, courtesy of the drunk mage with the poorly concealed wallet. You would expect more from someone who can mess with the basic laws of nature, but nope.
So Max is simple going to slouch over the bar and make shots in silence, wishing nobody notices her until she's at least halfway through the bottle.
As if, of course.
B. Have a babbu '^'
She'll come on over now and hold it wordlessly in your face, Max.
Please take it. It looks important. ]
Oh no cutie *^*
ALL THE AWK
dfdfdfdf dying
aslkjhsdlkjhf
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RIGHT B while i figure out A somehow...
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PIck your poison!
[ Regulars at Gisi definitely AREN'T going to know who this guy is. He's currently parked right out on the patio beyond the Common Rooms where everyone eats, cross-legged, working through his cigarette pack, enjoying the breeze since this particular wing of the base is really close to the cliff edges. The mask that's been set down right at his knee looks interesting - it'll be difficult to tell if it's draconian or saurian.
You may have observed him chatting up whoever catches his attention, or fussing over the junior oni-tsukai like a proper big brother oni-tsukai ought to. Either that, or you've just seen him keeping to himself. ]
OPTION 3
[ He's familiar with clubs. Being a Mortician kinda sorta means that you have to be, especially since your comrades from the Whisperer Division move around regularly in places like this, and always need back up.
This might be why going to Haven for Luke looks a little like releasing a fish into water. He's in his armor and his mangeyko because he came in from patrol, but he's also leaning against the bar, clearly enjoying the music and enjoying the booze.
Funny, though. Doesn't look like he's up for dancing or mingling with the crowd. ]
OPTION 5
[ This guy wanders everywhere so feel free to just... drop your muse in and I'll send this one your way. ]
Option 2!
She does halt to a stop when she sees you. You don't... look familiar.
( Not that she knows everyone, because she doesn't. But a new face is still a new face. ) ]
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5!
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Option 5 :)
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Aleksandar Sokolov / Alek Rivers || Open
Better put, The Estate. The sheer size of Falner could make anyone dizzy, but Alek? He's downright about to put his head between his knees and take a seat on the ground. This is impossible. Alek had been pretty content being no one and nothing except what his family needed of him. It was simple, quiet...ish. The ambition went to his twin, and, naturally, he was left with the duty.
Not that he's envious of that. Well, maybe a little. Alek envied the freedom his twin could afford, but he did his best and lived out a happy life making his mother happy.
But now, he's almost downright pissed at his mother. A Rivers? Demon killing and shadow chasing? He sucks in cold air as he drops his weight onto the grass facing the Falner Manor entrance. His knees are bent up and his elbows are propped on each one. It'd be straight out of a fairy tale, the kinds with drab printed pictures of reality and bright shiny abstractions of the mystical.
So what's Alek to do? Take out a cigarette, light it, and start smoking. There's a lot to think about, and the indoors isn't very inviting right now.
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Still, he looked... lost? And Chizuru walks up by him-- not exactly being nosy, mind. But the person looked distressed. And she can't help but want to... help. Somehow. Or at least ask if there was something she could do.
"Excuse me?" She touches him on the shoulder to get his attention. "Hello, are you alright?"
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Have a Pam, tagging in with Bonnie Rivers. XD
Rivers babies o mai
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/crawls from under a rock
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Law Tasse | Changing Breed | Open
[ There's a kid walking into the grounds of Falner estate, duffle bag slung high on his shoulders, and boy does he look lost. There's a phone in his hand and he's coming off of a conversation. If you listen closely, you'll probably hear him say: ]
I made it, Louis. Try to keep Ma off'a my trail for a couple days, I'll let her know when I know something.
[ The call appears to end and he's left standing at the statues of the Kings, heaving a sigh and scratching at the back of his neck. ]
Merde, this place is huge...
Roll Perception. Apply Danger Sense if you have it.
#lawdhammercy
kekeke
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There is very little point to going to a club for someone such as he, but Friedrich does so anyway. Never mind that he cannot get drunk, or that dancing holds little appeal for him; it would be quite the disgrace to his homeland if he did not have a refined palate for bier, and he does not need to spend even one second on the dance floor if he doesn't have to, anyway.
Now, seated at the furthest booth, he samples this country's lager offering (delectable, heavy malty head of foam, hints of caramel) first. He has bottles of IPA, stout, wheat beer, and ale waiting after the one he's taking his time with. Good beer isn't meant to be gulped; it's meant to be enjoyed much as a fine wine might be.
The people in this place are more... loose, than in most other places he'd been. Friedrich ruminates on that as he lights up a filterless cigarette, savoring the challenging stream of smoke he had just aspirated. His mind tells him that perhaps it is not that this place is loose, but that he is the one who is wound tight. That thought precipitated a long exhale. A cloud of smoke fills the air.
He watches the people move around him, listens to what conversations he can overhear. He records the scent of the booth and the dance floor and the feel of the bass thumping. He will remember these things, because they might be important, someday. This is what a club is to Friedrich Weiss: a can of new data just waiting to be opened and sensed. Preferably with a good beer or five.
Option 5 (OPEN)
Friedrich steps out into the light of day, and out of the Shatterdome residences in which he'd shuttered himself for half a day, drafting nine pleadings due next week. Tomorrow he'll do five more. He drafts so many pleadings in a month that the amount of work he gets done is equivalent to a typical starting law firm. Sometimes he thinks that it's too bad he's not doing it for the money; not that he needs it, it's just so much more fun playing with rich people's problems instead of the pro bono sob stories he has to be responsible about. Well, he chose this, anyway.
He decides, in the end, to go for a walk. If he is supposed to find a blade (he grumbles to himself, again, and still) in this place, he might as well get started now. There's got to be at least one person here who would suit.
Option 5!
For someone in her seventies, she still looks damn hot in her Netsach coat, but she's shrugging that off and stowing it, along with her weapons, in an Infinity Pack, which also fits in her purse. In two seconds, she's gone from Inquisitor to businesswoman, letting down her hair and walking on, snagging her cigarette case as she goes on. She can't find a lighter though.
'Oh damn, what a day to forget it.'
When she does spot someone, it happens to be a tall, blond, drink of water.
"Excuse me, hi... Sorry, would you happen to have a lighter?"
Memory Recall under Eidetic Memory, no roll
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Option 5 (Also Yay! I found a name for Gray's blade)
awesome!
Hehe
Option 3
it was nice knowing you, Freddy
Hypnotic Allure: 7 successes. Roll Resolve + Composure. XD
/crey Resolve(4)+Composure(3) = 0 successes (2,2,2,4,4,6,7)
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5. also, action
Perception (rote, twice): Wits(4) + Composure(3) = 6 successes
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Lenny Tyler | Changing Breed | Option 1 - Open
Oh... my... God...
[Lenny was speechless. Who could blame him? His life had just taken a turn for the strange in just a few short days.
Not too long ago, he'd found out that he was a Changing Breed. And before that had really sunk in, he was picked up, and later booked for a flight to the Philippines. Now, here he was, having been dropped off at the Falner Estate, and he was at a loss where to go next even as his head continued to buzz with questions.]
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Rolling Intelligence 2 + Occult 1 on what Lenny knows on Ferals = [9, 0 (5), 4] = 2 Successes
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Mina Dean ×× Riskbreaker and a little something else
[ There stands a rather disheveled young woman with a satchel and the kind of looks of someone that's more likely to be kicked out by security than anything else. A car had literally kicked her out moments ago, hitting the road before she could finish standing up. Night had mostly settled on Falner and some people could be seen here and there, most of which seemed to be used to seeing new people getting dropped off like that.
Reaching into her jacket's pocket, Mina pulls a golden zippo lighter, previously owned by the driver.
Grinning, Mina pockets it again and makes her way to the mansion, minding her steps and looking warily at everything. Is that door open? She sort of wishes it's not so she can try to unlock it, but someone walks out as she leans on it and Mina needs to step back and look somewhere else to avoid a collision.
Ultimately she ends up siting near the end of the stairs as she plays with the zippo. She'll do that later. It's not like they're going to move all their valuables elsewhere. ]
5. Light reading - Open
[ Mina can be found lying on one of the many green areas, barefoot, a book she was supposed to be reading covering the upper half of her face as her head rests over her hands. Ears covered with headphones, Mina is in a better place, a place of warmth and music and a convenient sun cover for her eyes.
The rhythmic bounce of her feet is the only evidence she's not asleep. Almost, but not there. ]
#1! Also, hello. owo
Spotted you, young lady, as he comes down the steps. Blinking once he realizes that you're a new face around these parts. ]
Can I help you, miss?
Apologizing in advance
XD
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2! lels hi darling
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lol i had to check the schedules lmfaoq
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Jake Rivers - Options 1 and Open!
Option 1
The Falner Estate was huge in Jake's humble opinion. He really wasn't sure whatelse to think as he wandered around the grounds, dressed in ripped blue jeans, a Union Jack t-shirt and a worn brown hoodie. The hood of said hoodie was already pulled up, covering his red hair in a futile attempt to help him hide from everyone he passed by. Not that it was very successful but the seventeen year old could dream that it worked. He swallowed, gripping the straps of the backpack as he paused, looking left and right.
Maybe this was a bad idea. He wasn't ready to be a Rivers Hunter, or whatever it was. Uncle Anthony had only just started teaching him about that side of the family when...
When a river had run dry, that's how they put it when they told him his Uncle had died. Jake's gaze moved to the ground, one hand moving to fidget with the arrowhead necklace Aunt Elizabeth had given him before he left. He'd wanted to punch the Rivers that had come when they told him that, when they put it that way. He probably would have had his sister not grabbed his arm.
His stomach flip flopped, but he tried to ease his nerves as he looked at the Estate. It wasn't like he had much of a choice anymore, he was here to take his Uncle's place, to learn about his legacy or whatever, and to protect what little family he had left.
God, Jake was going to be sick. He was certain he was going to be sick. He wanted to run, needed to run really. Would anyone yell at him if he started running around the grounds?
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Lyall, for her part, does not move. Instead chooses to observe from where she sits, still as a child her age should not be able to sit still. ]
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