CShades of Roleplay

Started by CShades, October 10, 2011, 03:32:23 PM

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CShades' Character Sheet (More or Less)

Physical Description
Name: Chameleon Shades.
Age: Too old to care.
Gender: Neutral.
Height: Avoided at all costs.
Hair: Very uncooperative.
Eyes: Two.
Body Type: Roadster.
Distinguishing Characteristics: V. thick glasses, a crooked tooth, funny accent, and the occasional dog hair.
Religion: Admitted Gadget-ist. Also said to worship the Flying Spaghetti Monster (The Pesto branch; Marinara and meatballs can be terribly boring.)

Psychological Record
   - Strong visualization skills, and the ability to describe said visuals in passable english (and spanish, if anyone cares about that)
   - Very creative when the muse strikes.
   - Mostly unpredictable.
   - Prone to flights of fancy.
   - Proud owner of a very fickle muse.
   - Mostly unpredictable.
Pet Peeves:
   - Fanaticism.
   - Bugs!
   - Poor reading comprehension skills.

Now wanted: New Fields -- Let me know via PM of any fields you think I should add to the sheet, and I likely will!

Things I Love:

I love strength. Of body, of mind, of conviction. Masculine men, women with a masculine mindset, and once in a while a true challenge.
I prefer those who resist to those who yield, and yet I love those who know how and when to yield with enough dignity to turn it into its opposite.
I love surprises -- but they must be surprising; a curve-ball from left field that makes me turn around and roll with the punches is always more appreciated than another cookie-cutter 'twist.'
I love jumping into a scene with no expectations, and take it together with my partners into a new height.
I love creative people who can turn weakness into strength, garter into garrote, and wield NPCs with the skill of a Maestro.
I love people who can visualize a scene and describe it to me as if they were there without overusing their words; it arouses my mind, which is my first sexual organ if not necessarily the only one.
I love layered characters with motivations and history -- and wants, and needs, and weaknesses, and hangups, and fears, and dreams. And strengths, of course. Always strengths.
I love Betrayal, and what comes from Betrayal.
I love contradiction and irony: the FtM transvestite who falls in love with a gay male; the Leader of Men who cannot afford what he or she wants the most without risking the loss of all they have ever worked for; the bitter words and actions of rivals who want nothing more than each other without admitting so - even to themselves.
I love lives made of pain and anger, and those tiny little moments of bliss that make them worthwile.
I love Danger and I love being the Danger.
I love blood and gore and mess, and the aftermath of it all.
I love screams and tears and spit and the sounds that come when there's not even that left.
I love the idea of celebrating life over the remains of those who are no longer able to do so.

I foremost love those who love themselves First, above and below, and I reserve my utmost admiration for those who can keep a Story a Story, rather than an extention of their might.


First Post - Cshades' Character Sheet, and Things I Love.
Second Post - Characters in search of plots.
Third Post - Visual Inspiration.
Fourth Post - My Mind-Children - Stories seeking Co-Writers.

-- Please PM me rather than adding to the thread. Also see my A/As; O/Os; and Rabbit Hole for more information.  Thank you!

"The next time I kill you, I promise you the labyrinth that consists of a single straight line that is both invisible and endless" ~Jorge Luis Borges.


Character Depository

Tarrek - a traveller-like sci-fi/fantasy empire setting. Duke Atalaryk

CHARACTER NAME: Tarrek El'Essen Atalaryk
CONCEPT: Incumbent Duke of House Atalaryk
Intelligence Analysis

AGE: 29
DESCRIPTION: Standing somewhere around six feet tall, there is something regal about this man. It is all on his build and posture -- the same muscular build found in hard laborers, combined with the ease of movement of a born dancer. His aristocratic features could label him as handsome if his nose hadn't been broken at least twice, though some might find that appealing as well.  A broad jaw and high cheekbones would lend themselves toward a certain imperiousness, were they not tempered by that nose as well - or by the deep-set storm-steeled hue of his eyes that together with the telltale crow-wing mane of hair identify him too easily as his father’s son. 

PERSONALITY AND MANNERISMS:  Those who know him from negotiations and social circles have had a few choice words to describe the new Atalaryk Duke. Chief amongst them would be Stubborn. Like any ornery old mule, Terrek can sometimes be set in his ways and unwilling to change a position or point of view. When he changes it, however, it will be just as difficult if not moreso to change again. He has also been described as cold and logical; his well thought-out arguments are veritable proof of this, as is his apparent dismissal of the tried and proved method of treating negotiations as agreements between friends. Does he have friends? Some say he could not; either way he is too busy trying to keep his house from falling into the black hole that has already threatened so many others of late. On the other hand, they would also use trustworthy and exemplary as well. As much as he is all of the above, Tarrek has an air of confidence and knowledge that tends to inspire those around him to do their best, and - perhaps the most underrated adjective of all, he’s also been called Fair.

For those who are closer, however, there are other nuances to those adjectives. Stubborn becomes Educated in his choices; Cold. Careful; logical, Rational; and the rest more or less remain the same. There are a few others to be found from asking his inner circle alone, but that is probably not something they will share freely.

PERSONAL HISTORY: Tarrek knew his role in life as early as he knew anything else, and spent every waking moment since in preparation for it; he simply didn’t expect its full weight to fall upon him for a very long time.  When it did some people speculated (as they still do) that he might not be ready for the responsibility, but ever since he has shown nothing but confidence on himself and a great deal of aplomb. As a child he was said to be slow to develop at one point, sometimes behind on milestones that other children would zoom over, and sometimes just not bothering with them at all. Later on there was an improvement on this, but as they say, fame and infamy both stay with you forever.  Whatever it was however, his father saw something in him that prompted him to maintain him close and at hand with the rest of his brothers and sisters as well as to acknowledge him alone as his son and heir. He learned a lot at his side - they all did, naturally - and when the time came, he was sent to a house of his father’s choosing for fostering.  Let it be said that it wouldn’t have been his first choice, and that he didn’t leave unscathed, but learn he did, a lot -- and when he returned home a two years later, he had a much broader view of life, the universe, and everything.

Admittedly, not all that he learned there was to his father’s liking, and there were times back then when the two large personalities appeared to butt heads, sometimes even in front of guests. It ended as suddenly as it had started one day, when the young Marchess with a freshly broken nose apologized to his father, and the Duke forgave him, ostensibly introducing him to one of his younger mistresses in the bargain. He acknowledged the woman graciously and they actually left together that day. It is said that he set her up in his own home at the homeworld, even going as far as staying there for a full month before heading back to his ship. He continued to visit her, once a month at the least, once a week at the most. There was much to be learned from her as well. By the time of his father’s death she had birthed three children -- whom he has not acknowledged thus far as his, but favored enough to be considered so. The day after he rose to the Duchy’s seat however, he gifted her with a generous allowance as well as the house she had been kept in, and hasn’t been back for a visit ever since.

Right from the time after his fostering, Tarrek was handed more responsibility with every challenge he met, and when the responsibility could not longer be handed, he earned every bit of it. He had always had his own ship and crew -- together with his teachers -- but now they were truly his own and he set out to build the whole team, both with men and women of the territories. While doing this, he also made a point to visit every little outpost, hold, station and harbor he could reach, both in order to compare them to the written reports and to get to know their people.  By the age of twenty-five he was recognized as one of the finest tacticians and commanders, though if asked he would respond that the title belongs in truth to one of his sisters. There were always the times he had to spend home of course, balancing the books with his father and learning the smaller points of stewardship, yet those were the ones he worried the least about - he was going to have a lifetime of that, some point later in the future.

Since his father’s death and his ascension he has grown somewhat more closed to the world than before - and hence so has all of the duchy. Up until recently most non-essential communications have slowly been tapering down;  not because he has demanded so but rather because everyone sort of stopped sharing from the top down. There have been trickles of information for those who know where to look or who to ask  though: word of him never walking the hallways alone any longer, for example, and of clearly tightening security. Word of  silent family dinners where everything was shared and joyful before and, last but not least, of the sudden and unexpected departure of his uncle, which he has ever since been all in a huff about. The fleet has been under alert, and the last order to scrape a few of the oldest, less serviceable vessels for parts and raw materials to upgrade and repair the more necessary ones  is still something of a hot button.

CHARACTER’S AMBITIONS: Justice for his father and his family primarily. A betterment of the house’s holdings and status being a closed second, which is directly tied to the wellbeing of his people in general - and the availability of resources.

- The broken nose is actually the work of a jealous husband. Or wife.
- Terrek believes his uncle already got rid of his father and is coming after him next.
- The Duke  actually had  his father killed,  and his uncle has proof of this.

Sean Carver - Serenityverse post Miranda- former companion on the run

Character Sheet - Firefly: The Uncivil Wars

Character name (real name): Sean Carver (Not in use)

Pseudonym(s) (if any): Dimas Lohengrim, Leon Song, Nightingale

Role(s) on board:Prisoner; undetermined.

Faction: Unaligned, formerly Alliance

Criminal record (all characters will have one): Dimas: Identity Theft. Leon Song:Treason; Embezzlement; Murder

Bounty (Allied Empire): Dimas:Tiny; Leon Song:Huge

Planet of origin:Bellerophon/Londinum/Sihnon, depending on who’s being asked/about

Language(s): English, Chinese variations, a few obscure old languages still in use - we all have our hobbies

Age: 39

Height: 6ft and change

Eyes: Blue

Hair: Blonde, currently dyed dark but starting to show.

Weight: Around 200, give or take some gravitational variation.

Ship and Combat Skills: Major - Cane(staves); speak softly and carry a big stick. Minor - Sword; excellent formal training yet nowhere near as good when taken into an actual fight. Minor - Piloting; rather a tumbleweed than a leaf in the wind, but he can handle the regular stuff.   

Personal skills: Companion training, Music with specialties in singing and percussion instruments.

Background: Being born with beautiful eyes can be a curse, specially yet again if it is combined with other cherubic features, specially in a world like Bellerophon where everything belongs to someone else in the end. The child was trouble bait from the crib, and sold by his own mother quietly, first sent to the capital and then, when he was old enough, to Sihnon. The guild itself knew nothing of the truth of course, yet it had happened many times before and would many times still. He worked hard over the years to first learn the ropes and, eventually, pay off his debt - freedom came at a steep price, but he was one of the few who was able and willing to afford it - first because of his voice, and the small audiences it would bespell over the years, until word of mouth gave him the moniker that carried him on to his last day in the Capital. Second? Because he caught the eye of someone who wouldn’t let go, and without even realizing he had, he broke the guild’s first rule.

From there it was impossible to go back, and he knew it. His benefactor took over, paying off what all was left of his debt and - this being suspicion rather than knowledge - either got rid of the outfit in its entirety, or somehow strongarmed them into finally signing him off. Either way, It worked, and Leon moved into his own apartments in the center of Londinum, mere steps from the parliament itself. He kept his  registration in order and managed his one contract for years on end. Luxury grows familiar far too quickly, and one forgets what it is to want. There was acquisition of wealth, to the point where he bought the very estate where he had been born, yet he didn't visit it even once. He would still sing of course, when a party called for it, or someone recalled who he was  - many did, in those rarified circles, far too many for his taste now. When the Miranda transmission went off, everything went to hell. Everyone was stepping on eggshells - his lover more than most - and there was little he could do about it other than to be there.

It only took half a day. He had to go for his yearly physical, and when he came back, there was blood everywhere. Far too much of it. He thought he was in time - he almost was - and it took almost a full day before the medic he got to show up gave up on them all and left. He knew what it looked like, far too well, and so he did what he had to do. Some things he burned, others he took with him, but within thirty minutes he was on board their yacht and away, stopping only in Sihnon for a few minutes to drop his girl off.  The yacht was too easy to track, so he sold it and bought something smaller, pushing away from the core worlds and as far as his coin and wits could take him in two years. Not far enough, it turns out. His licence is lapsed - not that he could or would have used it, he knows what charges were piled on his head even before he left the alliance space - and his last attempt at passing himself as someone else backfired spectacularly, earning him a trip to orange-suit Nirvana.

At least his face hasn’t triggered the /real/ bounty yet, or he would be royally screwed (again.) Small favours, and all that.

Goals and priorities: Avoid getting into Alliance space at all costs, avoid getting his old cortex flag activated. To find his last ship, maybe, or at least recover some of his things if he succeeds with the first goal. Get himself a new name, and a new trade to practice; he could make a good preacher, of sorts.

Ons/Offs: Mostly Asexual to begin with; bound to start rather jaded in that area, but anything can change as play progresses.  Writer’s are Here

Sean Whittier - Modern supernatural. Engineer/Warlock

Name: Sean Whittier
Age: 32
Sexual Orientation: Non-binary, but quite particular when it comes to real attraction - specially now. Might take a lifetime to figure that one out.
Occupation: Engineering geologist
Relationship Status: Complicated
Permanent Residence:New Orleans

Height: 5’ 11”
Hair: Short, dark brown
Eye Colour: Blue
Distinguishing Features:
Visual Description:  Somewhere past the thirty year mark and wiry in frame, two words are best to describe this man: Striking, and Masculine. It goes well beyond the lean muscles, broad shoulders, high forehead, and cheekbones that could have been carved from granite; everything in his visage is nearly as symmetrical as if it had been sculpted by hand, down to the solid line of his jaw broken briefly by the shadow of a not-too-close shave, to the full lips and devilish brows above  His eyes are deep set, blue as the aegean sea, that appears a shade lighter in contrast with the close-cropped dark head of hair.
Face Claim: Ian Somerhalder

Personality: Sean is a man of contrasts. Both reserved and gregarious, he loves groups of people and having fun - but as long as they don't ask him too many questions or things get too personal, which is when he usually turns to leave. Logical and whimsical - there is this part of him that believes he is a little crazy and will end up like his brother, using logic and deduction to distinguish things that are 'true' as they should be and things that are just his mind playing tricks on him as ever. When things get muddy in his head - which they do often enough - he grounds himself on science in order to make the distinction whereas once both him and his brother were taught to work on intuition instead. On the other hand, when the gut feeling is strong enough, he can’t help but heeding it -whether it is stupid or not.. He’s been a player all his life, detached but easy to make friends and lovers as long as they don’t last long. His last therapist said it - before referring him to the next one in line like they all did after two or three sessions with him - he didn’t want to let anyone close enough to see inside, did he even know what they’d find? He was pretty sure he did.

History: He lived in a world of dreams and magic, as far as he can remember, until that stupid fire destroyed it all.  He only heard about it from his grandfather, and that was only after days and days of asking them where his parents were and when he could go home again, while his brother didn’t even need to ask once. In the end, the answer was ‘never.’ He was only  seven years old, but still remembers the silly bedtime stories and the sheer love his parents had surrounded them with.  His brother Dean was the more problematic of the two, from what he remembers, always trying to remind Sean of things he didn’t know he had forgotten, only to finally be taken away for his own good.  They say he’d been doing better in the retreat, but the few times Sean was allowed to visit, he’d only gotten a blank stare and the silent treatment reserved for the worst kind of traitors. The first firm resolution of his life was that he wouldn’t end up there himself, and thus far he’s managed to keep it together.  He’d always get mixed messages from the grandparents; where grandmother was staunch in keeping his feet firmly grounded in reality, grandfather would slip sometimes and make him laugh with his tricks, bring him a special rock,  or remind him that if others didn’t see the same things he saw when he looked at it, it didn’t mean they weren’t there. Of course, that was Dean-like talk, so he tended to put it off his mind and focus on Reality instead.  Maybe madness was hereditary. 

Rather than flights of imagination, he focused on the hard sciences; he had finished his engineering degree and was following up a post grade in geology up north when the storm hit. They weren’t worried, his grandmother had said on the phone call before, and after - well, the whole world knows what happened.  All in all, the Covington people weathered it better than most anywhere else in the  area - they were higher, she said, and the wind wasn’t as strong - nor was his grandfather apparently, because he had left in a rush to go get Dean ; that whole area was flash-flooded worse than the rest. The car was found, somewhere near the ward where they had kept Dean, but there was nothing else left around that area. It wasn’t easy to stay where he was either, but he had to, and he did - deep inside he knew there was nothing he could do for them even if he ran home right then.

Sean moved from there to a few more specialized degrees, a couple of government internships and his best friend’s bed, not necessarily in that order. There were no romantic feelings there, they were both aware of  it, but they got along wonderfully and at the time he needed someone he could trust. It looked like a good idea, like most misguided ones do. There were trips where they separated, then came back together again - it was familiar and safe for both of them - and a couple of times back home to help with the rebuilding efforts, but when he finally decided to move back for good she didn’t seem to have any problem staying behind, and they did lose contact for a while.  It was his grandmother actually who dropped the bomb on him  - does /your/ grandma use facebook too?

It was total chaos. Still is. He may never understand why the old woman got in the middle - and with such efficient zeal - but he ended up the unwilling parent of his own set of twins - girls to boot- who he hadn’t the least idea of how to deal with, much less raise.  He was also on the receiving end of their mother’s bitter hatred for taking them.  He’s been talking to her, and finding hard to believe that the woman he knew - this woman - is anything like what the court documents say about her.  He is looking for a bigger place now and thoroughly ignoring his grandmother’s not-so-subtle invitation to move in back with her, because he couldn’t quite stomach that either. 

Specialized Innate Powers: Terrakinesis, Metalkinesis, Thermokinesis

O/Os: CShades' Color Spectrum 

Teuthis - Thyrsus GotV, Modern NWOD Mage

True Name : I’m not sure which one is more real to him,  if any; we can work that out during play if it’s ever needed.
Shadow Name : Teuthis
Age : Thirty-something, though he’s widely believed to be younger.
Sex : Fluid
Gender: Fluid. Player will use ‘He’ for coherence where applies.
Classification : Mage
Relationship Status : Who has time for that? Okay, maybe one or twenty. Do sleepwalker retainers count?

Path : Thyrsus/Tamer of Rivers
Order : Guardians of the Veil

Mundane Occupation/Life : Teuthis has many go-to identities that are easy to fall into when the time is right and there is need for it, but most of the time he has too little patience or use for a mundane facade of his own. It is always cleaner to pick one that's already there and just take over for a while.

Mage Occupation/Life : In the public light, Teuthis has long run point for a local labyrinth -- their network covers the whole San Francisco branch of the National Park Service with ties to the different native american organizations in the bay area -- and for some time now has been delegating more of that in order to manage some of the flow of information between the Guardians and the other orders, which is a perfect excuse to get to know as many Awakened as want to be known - and to be known by them, in turn. It works out, because while he can be Decisive and Just when needed, the Shifter is also charming and playful and laid back for a Guardian -- which means putting him under the spotlight just might be a ploy from the Eye to get a bit of positive PR in the sea of negative light they are often painted in. If so, it just might be working! (A little)

Height : Variable
Weight / Body type : Variable
Hair : Variable
Skin : Variable
Eyes : Variable
Distinguishing Features : A small ‘squid’ mark he keeps somewhere subtly visible; a hollow stone ring artifact made by a Matter expert to change size when he does, and spelled never to come out without a specific word of power.
Standard Clothing : He keeps a lot of disguises around places. A dedicated scarf is usually around in one form or another to facilitate Disguise, and has a certain preference for leather/organic garments.
Face Claim : None for too long! (But feel free to request any)

Likes : Order. Blood. Worthiness. Faun and Games. And water. Oh, water! Fish. Animals. People - they are just another species after all - and the wilderness. Wise Rules. The Hunt.
Dislikes : The clueless and the Dangerous. Having to do something twice. Staying still for too long. Unwise Rules. Waste of resources. Human Greed and the Despoiling of Nature. Wearing the same face two days in a row. Fucking Sharks.

About :
The person he was born as awakened to the Labyrinth under auspicious signs, and was tested thoroughly in every possible way before being taken under their Mentor’s wing. They weren’t the first or the last to be put through those paces, but yes the only one to survive them. Once his mentor decided he was ready for more… well, then he also had to die.

At least it wasn’t permanent, but giving himself to the Water had enough of a cost that he never would be the same, anyway. Squid, the Kraken named him, and not without good reason. There was more learning to have, in the shadows, and some of the hardest was reaching into the path of madness. They stalked, they hunted and they made decisions together. That was when Theutis was born again, taking over the newly-awakened life of one who couldn’t be allowed to live it.

Was it his mentor’s design? Going through the veils and Guardian initiation a second time was a learning experience, as was maintaining his knowledge of the arcana from discovery and the re-learning of every little thing while at the same time being guided into further depths of knowledge on the side and merging both identities into one. He became the tester in time, and the mentor, and some time ago he was brought into a whole different level of the Hunt. As the eye of the Dragon, he watches and he learns from those who watch for him. He knows the darker places to hide where it is least likely to kindle disbelief, and probably every demesne there is in the city as well as who it belongs to -- he often has good relationships with these cabals and has been known to exchange services and favors for the right of entry and use, if only so that he can shift and change safely in a pinch rather than risking the Lie. 

Free Council - Does Freedom have an Ethos?
Silver Ladder - Shall we follow Right or Wrong?
Adamantine Arrows - What is worth Protecting?
Mysterium - Can it truly ever be Safe?
Guardians of the Veil - Who watches the Watcher?

Reputation :

Teuthis is pretty all right, for a Guardian. I mean, you could probably not even tell most of the time, because he’s the last to censure people about their mistakes -- for one who changes shape nearly from day to day, the shifter can’t really proselytize against private use of vulgar magic, right? Okay, once in a while he’s had to have a ‘talk’ with some people about being a little more careful, but then they Really Deserved it, and the consensus is that the world is safer for it. Still, that is not really his Calling - he hardly has the time or inclination to police the Awakened who should know better, and would rather work with people than against them. 

The Guardian has some quirks, like everyone - you can easily tell it is him by his penchant for sniffing things, even if you missed the ring or birthmark that are always a constant regardless of what he’s chosen to look like -- and how he can be less than politically correct or more than a little off-putting when he gets truly passionate about a subject -- that’s just piece and parcel of awakening to the Stone Brook. As it is, his general reputation is that of an approachable person who in spite of visible changes in physique and demeanor is steady on their loyalties and beliefs, while making a point not to demean those of others. “Mage Society is a body of sorts” he has been quoted as to say. “Every part does its own job, but you need all of them working together to keep it healthy - even those that make shit stink.”

Free Council - You are free to make your own choices. I can only hope you make the right ones.
Silver Ladder - You are proven leaders and I shall follow Worth. I can hope  you have all the information you need to lead us down the right path.
Adamantine Arrows - You fight the True fight, I hope we can fight the true Enemy together.
Mysterium - You strive to Know as much as I do. I hope Knowledge always grows tempered with Wisdom.
Guardians of the Veil - You serve the wheel as I do and see much of the same things I see. I hope you can be trusted to serve the common Good rather than your own.

Sexuality : Pansexual, amoral, opportunistic, primal, switch.
Player Sexual On's and Offs : Few and far between, see my linked O/Os which are pretty much all still current.
Character Ons : The perfect Kill. The hunt. Predator and Prey. Adrenaline Rushes. Who are we kidding-- Life.
Character Offs : Paradox! (it’s happened, shut up.) Being Made. Clingy-needy types. Fragile partners (unless that’s The Point.) Breaches of Trust (Ironic, I know.)

Player : CShades

Time :
Fate :
Space :
Mind : Adept (fine-tuning for what it seems forever) but it is not something he would allow most anyone to know.
Life : Master (Only acknowledged recently, though his mastery is rather complete)
Spirit : He should know some of this, right? (He doesn’t, for Reasons, but who needs to know that?)
Matter : It’s in the to-do list
Death :
Forces :
Prime :

Mr. Ernst - Modern/Fantasy Custom magical setting, Faculty, Familiar

Name :  Mr. Ernst
Age :   Looks to be on his late 30s, but it'd be kinda rude to ask.
Sex :  Male
Classification : In the know. To those who can sense the flow of magic, he glows brightly; otherwise, he doesn’t necessarily broadcast whether he plugs in as battery or lamp.
Shame On You
It’s a difficult choice, but he works better as a familiar

Relationship Status : Living Hell
Position : Floating faculty. He can theoretically take over when a professor has to take a day off, however rarely that may happen. Professor of Equestrian studies after hours, he may also be called upon to tutor a few special lessons for a promising student -- mostly regarding either hand to hand combat or the finer details of energy exchange.
Height :  6’4”
Weight / Body type : Somewhere around 200lbs. He has a broad bone structure, which could easily make him stocky if his body wasn’t as wiry as it is lean. Rather than a body builder, he has the physique of a brawler. -- the same broadness found in hard laborers, combined with a certain (innate or trained) grace.
Hair : Dark Blond
Skin : Tanned
Eyes :  Blue-Gray
Distinguishing Features : Broken nose, wedding ring. A rune-engraved flesh plate (hidden)
Face Claim: Nikolaj Coster-Waldau

Likes : Meaningful Silence. Animals. A good fight, real music, good food - all very subjective, truly.  Mayo rather than ketchup on his fries, for example.
Dislikes : Useless noise - this includes inane babbling, whining, beating around the bush, and Rap. Uninvited contact, whether physical or magical is verboten - probe at your own risk.

About: There is a real world out there, and it just so happens to be a lot more dangerous than people would let you believe, specially if you are gifted. People have to fight for the freedom they enjoy -- someone has to, anyway - and mr. Ernst learned this rather early in life, which was never the same again. He has re-learned it a few times since, as well. This year, he is taking a break from it - a clean one, at that - to try to clear his mind off things.

Originally from the other side of the pond, few people know much about him, though he’s come with the best references from the european system. The name sounds german, though he has little accent to speak of unless he is tired, angry or otherwise affected enough to forget, and he isn’t truly forthcoming with personal information with those outside his closest circle. Regular students and faculty will see him as fair, if serious, and usually not one they can get away with things around - when he wants something to stop, he addresses it only the once. It is what makes him a good floater.

There is an element of paranoia as well, at least when in the company of the gifted alone. An urgency that drives him to Do things, and to encourage them to be ready for anything. For Everything. Where everyone gets their lessons in dressage, jumping and posture, he may encourage a few into more exhausting pursuits - distance racing, taming, and even the occasional trick riding. In spite of his energy-laden aura and his ease in  answering practical questions regarding the craft, he doesn’t do demonstrations of his own.

There are many, but I find they are more fun to find out IC. That said, everyone should and could maybe have a seed of something about everyone, so if you guys are interested in knowing something no one else does, let me know and we can figure out how they know what! :D

Labels : Since being here, he’s mostly earned Horseman, Cowboy, Dutch, Fritz and Boss.

Sexuality : More or less equal opportunity offender. Gender and Position preferences are ultimately a lot less important to him than chemistry and circumstance, On the other hand, he tends to be quite old fashioned and refuse to admit this --  even to himself. In the end, this means he tends to be seen as both dominant and heterosexual from the outside.
Sexual On's and Offs : Ons: Anything that gets his endorphins flowing in general. Confidence. A merry chase or heavy offensive. Offs: Dead fish. Small talk. Clinging. Manipulation.

Player : CShades

Renard - Modern/Fantasy Custom magical setting, Restaurateur/Sorcerer

Name :  Jean-Louis Renard
Age : Not a day over thirty-five, and he hasn't been for a few years now.
Sex :  Male
Classification : He Sorcers.  To those who can sense the flow of magic at a deeper level, there might be something a little off-kilter there.
Relationship Status : A few; there’s always room for more.

Position : Restaurateur

Height :  About 6 feet
Weight / Body type : Somewhere around 180.  He has that hard, wire and sinew sort of physique, reminiscent of taut cords around a leather frame; the kind of body that is stronger than it looks - a frame that is light in spite of the broad shoulders, balanced from head to toe and teetering at the edge between solidity and grace.
Hair : Dark Sienna, with a smattering of gray. Short boxed beard.
Skin : Bronze
Eyes :  Blue
Distinguishing Features : Sparrow tattoo, left shoulder
Face Claim: Eric Dane

Likes : Fresh ingredients, orderly things, sharp knives, straight edges and clean surfaces, savory over sweet, spicy over classic, heat over cool, red over white -- not implicitly food-related.  Sailing.  Confidence. Joie de vivre.  Large cats.
Dislikes : Anything stale or getting there. Distractions. Cleaning other people’s mess. Anarchy. Reality TV. TV. Anything out of place. Dullness. Rats. Aniseed.

About: In spite of appearances, Jean-Louis wasn’t born into money. Son to a rather disreputable single mother, he grew up near the south-side harbor in Marseille, amongst mangy cats and brassy whores, eating what he could find when he could find it - most often not at all. It was this gnawing hunger that led him to his first taste of the gift far earlier than most, and has ever since. He learned through trial and error; the first and maybe hardest lesson being that of secrecy and concealment. Others couldn’t do what he could, and that would make them Danger; he became Danger himself for a while. 
His fascination with food led him to work with it - with magic sometimes, but mostly without- and by the time he turned eighteen he had already a brilliant future ahead of himself -- and a need for the high of Magic that would have had him dead in six months, had nothing changed.

But it did change at last during military service, and after,  as he found himself delving into a narrower circle, he absorbed everything he could from the new acquaintances he made. They call themselves the Order, and the ordeals to join are intense indeed. There he rose quickly nevertheless, incorporating what the other sorcerers would give away to what he had worked out on his own while not quite sharing his doubts as to their more dogmatic views, never quite accepting ‘truth’ as face value but rather drawing his own conclusions one at a time. He melded into the mundane world, using his gift to fuel his motion and slake his hunger. Jean-Louis opened his first restaurant at twenty-one, and sold it at twenty-two for a huge profit, then moved on to the next town, and the next venture. This way he travelled, all over the world he would say,  finding new flavors and combinations -- culinary and magical both.

He opened his Saint Martin’s restaurant almost five years ago, and for the last four he has been putting off selling it. He likes it here, he can always travel to his other projects when needed and keep this as his ‘pied-a-terre’ of sorts. For some time now he has been responsible for the dining at the Academy as well, acting as head chef; he handles the staffing,  menus and purchasing, often showing up for a check or to lead the team during special events and functions.


There are many, but these few could be construed as hooks for other similarly-geared characters.

Dark magic - There’s a certain familiarity with it that he won’t necessarily acknowledge. Still, flavors.
Leather scene - Off and On for many years, he may be well known in some circles.
Little black book - There are a few underground networks the Order is familiar with, one of which has somehow figured out how to ‘sniff out’ unaware familiars -- those who don’t necessarily know what they are and/or are not visibly related to a Family. Some get passed around, some get bonded, and some get to continue with their gray lives between one visit and the next.

Labels : Chef.

Sexuality : Homosexual, save counted exceptions.
Sexual Ons and Offs :
Ons:  Blood and Pain in most if not all permutations. Sharp wit, and a marked sense of self. Danger. MindFuckery.
Offs: Shy and Blushing, blind submission, feminization, the squeamish.

Player : CShades

Gaia Iullia - Roman Historical/Fantasy - Elite-training Schemer

Name: Goes by Gaia Iulia between close friends, known as Domina Iulia to the rest. Real name? Yeah, right.

Age: A gentleman doesn't ask, and a Lady would know better. Somewhere close to 30, maybeprobably.

Brief History: There isn't much that is openly known about Domina Iulia's past to be sure, though quite a bit has been guessed at over the last few years. Some things are easy to tell: her straight nose, the high cheekbones, the golden olive complexion and the woman's poise mark her unerringly as one of patrician ancestry; her accent places her as a native of Rome; her facility with languages and rumored ability to read and write (waitwhat?) tell more than a little about her upbringing; and her usual choices in attire reveal a thorough understanding of society mores as much as they do of whichever part of her she decides to emphasize at any given time.

What those who have been here longest would know for a fact is that she arrived at the gates some five years ago,  dressed in a hooded cloak and little more, and walking through the gates of the Tower as if they were her own while followed by two slaves with bundles -- and there she stayed. A choice, like many others, her two companions became part of the whole much as she became part of the tower herself. Little is said about her rise from there to Elite, but that is because people have more interesting things to talk about when they refer to her -- how she is yet to find someone she cannot handle and turn into exactly what she wants; how she tends to prefer the rebellious types; how the sounds of despair are more frequent around her than those of pleasure; how even those who have served her for long really, /really/ don't want to end up in her hands when she is in a Mood. Of course, those are /lies./ Just look at her, she is such a beautiful, fragile flower of undeniable femininity.

And everyone knows what a woman is made for. Right?

Strengths: A deadly combination of anger and self control that morphs often enough into pure calculation. She is known to bide her time after a (real or imagined) slight, and lash out when least expected. It also guarantees that she gets what she wants, sooner or later.  A knowledge of politics and people beyond the scope of most men and women alive. Sheer mindfuckery.

Shortcomings: She is a woman and she knows it. Physical strength, while honed to a point, is not anything she will best a male with when push comes to shove -- hey, that's what chains and loyal slaves are for, anyway. As any woman of her time, she's also had her 'place' drilled into her long and hard enough to fall into the stereotype when the right buttons are pushed -- only for her gall to rise the moment she realizes she did, which might be a shortcoming too, considering. Gaia holds grudges longer than elephants do, but then so does she remember her debts and honors them.  Doesn't trust easily, if at all. Secrecy is another of her weaknesses -- she has enough of that going on where a misstep could spell doom also:, that hair? It's naturally red, and woe betide whoever might happen to insinuate otherwise.

Opportunities: Gaia wants the impossible, of course, and knows it all too well. In the meanwhile, she's watching the first triumvirate spiral to its end with untold interest,  looking up to Caesar's campaign in Gaul and gathering as much information as she can from any likely sources to use for her own means. It is said that some of those she trains just might be a little too attached to her, to the point where they might end up obeying her over their owners if push comes to shove.

Virtue: Temperance - More towards self control than prudence, really.

Vice: Wrath

Forgotten - Elemental Fantasy, original setting - Were-Dragon

Species: Gemstone Dragon

Gender: Male

Age: Three Thousand, Six Hundred, and change.

Abilities: All normal Dragon Abilities, plus the mastery over non-metallic Minerals -- he can manipulate the chemicals in range to create these gemstones and use them.
- The stronger/more complex the mineral, the longer it will take to come together; one might have a large crystal in a fraction of a second, but a diamond would take some time.
- He has a form of telekinesis that affects gemstones alone.
- Can sense their existence in the background all the time -- this can get distracting if they move around.

Orientation: Diagonal and curled around. No, really; after so many years, he'll probably not give a fuck what he... oh well, it was a bad pun anyway.

Weakness: He's not exactly ADD, he's the Real Thing. His mind can be as fractal as the crystals that obey him, and has probably forgotten more things than most dragons ever knew in their long lifetimes. You'd think lateral thinking is a gift, but when he's supposed to do Something and ends up chasing butterflies up the wall, things can get hectic. He's also more than a little lazy; it goes with being a huge shiny lizard, okay? His main physical weakness would be things that make him feel enclosed or trapped. Anything that he can't get out of again? That might trip him over the edge once he's outside.

Treasure:  He's got a preciouss! It's a flawed gem he doesn't let go of --or like to show. Another reason to do everything one-handed!

Weapon(s): Breath, Talons, Fang and Tail, for now! What else does a dragon need, really?

Description: Huge and Shiny! >>picture>> He's got some black scales to himself, specially underneath, but the further up we go the more crystal-like ones we get -- he's like a huge amethyst cluster reflecting all the primary hues from purple to violet and back, with a few secondary reds and blues.

Personality: Ba-humbug. He's been all by himself for centuries and it shows. Sometimes he talks to nothing, sometimes he just decides to do whatever he wants regardless of common sense, like laying down to sleep in the middle of a walk just because that's /such a perfect sunning spot omg./ Easy to anger, and easy to forget about it on the other hand, he hardly remembers much of the Outside. A sort of absentminded professor, he can come up with a brilliant deduction or the most childish conclusions, even if sometimes the latter can be more accurate than the former.

History: He's old. He's seen plenty of things. Unfortunately, the centuries of isolation have made him not want to remember much about them, and he can be a little cantankerous when it comes to selective memory. He was a Powerful Dragon. Or not. A Wise Dragon. Or not. Sometimes he remembers flying over neverending fields and forests, and sometimes he can't remember how to fly at all, or what flying is.

He had a friend once -- a human, was it? He remembers the skin, sometimes, with his own -- only dragons don't have skin, so that must be another wrong memory. They talked in his head, but he doesn't talk back anymore. Sometimes he sees him around, barring the doors that never open from him, reminding him of... something. Something good. Something Bad. He loves him, no, he hates him. He would eat the wraith in its dirty linen shroud if he could, but who would he talk to if he did? Right? Right.

Yves - Kushielverse Setting - Valerian with a Twist

Neither Pleasure without Pain, nor Pain without Pleasure...

                              "I Yield"

Name : Yves de la Courcel nee Valerian
Age : 44
Gender : Male
Sexuality : Bisexual, Equal Opportunity Offender

Occupation : Servant of Naamah
Rank : Valerian Dowayne (I totally went there!)

Personality : Unyielding Thrillseeker.  Roguish, somewhat jaded -- okay, quite a bit jaded -- and very self-possessed. Confidence: he has it in spades, though some have been heard calling it arrogance -- nevermind that most of those 'some' are counted among the very small number of patrons he is occasionally said to entertain still.

Valerian; is he, really? It is a question that hasn't gone unasked since the time he caught the eye of his first Dowayne, and all through his service in a life dedicated to the House. It is also one that's more likely to be answered with a knowing smirk or in the privacy of an assignation than word of mouth. It is true that his patrons are known to stay mum as to their encounters -- how could it not be, if it is in the contract, right? Yves doesn't exactly fit the stereotype, but then no one such would be able to fill in the Dowayne's administrative duties as well as he does. Once billed as a 'challenge' to the patrons, he has very much remained so; if there ever was any subservience instilled into him, it must be long buried beneath layers upon layers of experience and scars.  He usually comes off as self-contained but roguish, as perfectly able to wield his tongue with the surgical precision of a flechette as he is to withstand its Kiss. As much as some would accuse him of being more Mandrake than Valerian, there is a marked difference between Yves and those of the thorny rod: He doesn't particularly go out of his way to have people yield to him.

Appearance : D'Angeline to the core and a scion of Elua to boot, he was once upon a time: adorably cute. That youth morphed into a handsome young man throughout the length of his Service, and forward even into the stalwart gentleman he happens to be today. He does retain the charm that made him sought after by a particular niche of patrons:  sun-kissed hair, neither long enough to touch his shoulders nor short enough that cannot be used against him; long eyelashes over taunting eyes of sea-gray; a once-broken nose that is both gift and reminder of just how little use his signale has ever seen. He is tall and broad-shouldered, eminently masculine in physique and with all the trappings of one who has endured, and will even more so.

(Not So)Brief History : It was a joke, really -- meant to be one, anyway. They only had to slip some of those sweets to the coddled boy, and dare him to eat them longer than they could; from there to laughing their asses off it was only a matter of time. Well, the joke was on them, really: the young man not only ate them under the table but also demanded they get him /more./ Natch, those spiced candies were not all that easy to get; eventually the pair of rascals got caught sneaking out with them, and nobody really believed their tale about whom they were taking them for. Some time passed, but soon enough Muriel Gascogne, then the Valerian Dowayne, visited the palace again -- only to be targeted by the erstwhile Yves in his dogged search for Spiced Candy: He hadn't forgotten. Muriel watched him go with his treasure already half eaten, and from there on she kept an eye on the little noble. A few eyes, as it were, because she was a busy woman and he ended up being rather difficult to follow after a while: the boy had a rare knack for getting himself into all kinds of trouble. By the time he was seven, it was obvious that his daredevil behaviour might prevent him from ever reaching the age of eight; the Dowayne met with his parents then. After two more years of denying the truth -- and quite a few more close calls -- they finally admitted that something had to be done, and Yves Eoganan de la Courcel became the newest fosterling of House Valerian.

The third child born of a second child in any noble line has few possibilities in sight anyway, right? There is no land to inherit or titles to wrestle for -- or less of those anyway, for those of the Courcel lineage. On the other hand, the responsibilities are much less as well; while expected, it was not strictly required of Yves to carry the name any further and, whereas a foreign marriage might once have been in the charts, Service was always a good option until it ended and such things could be properly arranged.

Living in the night court is very different from growing up in the d'Angeline court itself, really, but Yves took to it like fish to water. There were always too many novices around for him to jump into the Aviline (again) or stick his hand into the fireplace -- well, in fact he did that once, but nobody tried to stop him and he got sweets instead of a talking to; it wasn't half as fun and he still had to sweep the floors, blisters or not. The other novices weren't particularly impressed by his name, either, but as the months went by they did start flocking to him for other reasons. Everyone knew he would eventually go to Mandrake by then, or Bryony perhaps, because assessing risks and results was soon proven to be one of his greatest strengths. He did a tour of the houses, in fact, when it was time, and those who remember will say he was rather wanted by those two and more. Dahlia had a stake on it, of course, by din of birth alone, but he wouldn't go to it. The Mandrake Dowayne agreed that he was a good anvil against which to hammer her own adepts' self-control, but it was as obvious to her as to Muriel then that that wasn't exactly what the youth was after: valerian he remained.

He was most definitely no anguisette either. Pain shook him like it did everyone else, even if Yves proved himself singularly capable of withstanding it -- stubborn as a mule, many of his teachers concurred. By the time most valerians his age were thoroughly conditioned to turn pain into pleasure, there were no obvious signs that he ever would. For him it was a sport instead -- how much, how far, and just how long; who would endure the most. His debut was brokered quietly in the end, by the Dowayne and her Second, and there was no talk about it at all. In fact, the young man virtually disappeared from sight for several weeks after that night and didn't get his back actually limned until two months later. He was then, they have said, eerily at peace for the first time in his life.

His patronage grew very slowly as it were, but the prices paid more than made up the time spent between assignations. Gifts started to pile soon in his coffers, and yet he didn't bring them to the marquist as most would have -- just a handful of them would have had him free of the house's purview in no time at all. Yves kept the lines on his back growing slowly instead, no more than a leaf or petal at a time, and the times spread out as far as his patrons' visits. He continued to learn avidly in the meanwhile, using some of his coin to hire the tutors he wanted on the subjects he cared to touch rather than the extensive syllabus from before, never asking for or accepting his family's say in the matter -- in fact, it was as if they had forgotten about him, and him about them. There were several foreigners to hone his language skills; more than a few warriors; the occasional visit to another house; and the cultivated long friendships with a few cassiline brothers. When Muriel finally retired, Etienne took her place and, without fanfare at all, Yves took Etienne's own as second -- he was almost thirty years old, and wasn't going anywhere else.

It was a little more than ten years later that Etienne retired as well, leaving him to take over the direction of the house. Nothing much has changed, really, since it was rather clear that he had been calling the shots for a very long time already, but now he has become quite a bit more visible. Visible enough that his birth name has been remembered again. When the eventual letter arrived about arranging a match with an Aragonian duchess, Yves respectfully declined -- citing his duty to the companions was best served where he was instead -- and pointed out exactly why his third cousin was a much better choice for it. While he has stayed out of the political games in the court, this and other similar answers prove that he has never /quite/ been ignorant of any of them. Courtesans may keep their patrons' secrets close to heart, but they can never keep much from their Dowayne. These days, he divides his time evenly between the duties to his House and the duties to himself, allowing his second to shoulder much of the administrative weight while he makes a point of spending time with his adepts: ensuring he knows each of their strengths and weaknesses so that he can pair them just right to their prospective patrons, and at court: ensuring he knows exactly the same about the d'Angeline nobility. At least that's his story, and he is sticking to it.

Midnight - Magic Fantasy - Beast caught in Human(oid) form.

   Name: A patron called him "Midnight" once, and it kind of stuck.

   Race: Alicorn

   Age: Appears to be in his late twenties.

   Place of Origin: Southeastern Europe

   Gender: Male

   Sexuality: He'd always thought of himself as straight -- not that he gets much choice on that these days.

Physical Description: In human form he is not very tall, yet still above average -- just a hair over six feet. He's not /built/ either. The young man has that hard, wire and sinew sort of musculature reminiscent of taut strings over a light frame; the kind of body that is stronger than it looks. Savage strength. His skin is obsidian black, stretched over his frame enough that the veins in his forearms and wrists, down through his throat, in the backs of his hands, all show in relief through his thin skin at the smallest movement or twist of drawn muscle.  The black mane of hair twists and tumbles across his shoulders, falling to mid-back before tapering off and covering his too-bright eyes and slightly pointed ears whenever given the chance.

Personality: From the beginning he has exhibited alpha characteristics. He's also the proud owner of a stubborn streak the size of Arizona - one day he decided he was done talking, and he didn't say a word for months. He still rarely does, yet Midnight makes himself understood when he needs to, saving the deep rumble of his voice for counted occasions. Like any equine, he has oodles of energy and a playful nature, yet his games tend to be of the rough persuasion most of the time. A confirmed vegetarian, he tends to graze here and there all the time, be it a sprig of mint, a blade of grass or a slice of fruit. As far as his Master's patrons go, he will do what he is ordered to do and what he is /made/ to do -- unless he can find a loophole, and then, well, it can be all about what /he/ wants. Midnight is a nocturnal creature.

Brief History: Born to guard and lead, Midnight grew up free in the depths of the most hidden of forests, one of only two alicorn stallions who exist at any given time in the world. When he came of age he would travel from forest to forest and to mountain, carrying news and companionship to kin and kine. That lasted a very long time, and then it came to a sudden stop a few years back, when he made the acquaintance of a certain wizard. He wasn't the target then, one of his mates was, and he arrived just in time to wake her up from her slumber, sending her to fleeing ahead before his own horn thrust through the wizard's heart. Or at least he thought it did, before his horn was gone and he was standing on two paltry legs, or kneeling on them -- it is still hard to remember what happened first.

Brought into the castle, the young man was put through his paces. He was brought to accept the Wizard as his superior in everything then, step by painful step, until he would accept the yoke around his neck as much as the impossibility of returning to his primary shape without the Wizard's acquiescence and power, until he stopped fighting it and bent to the sadistic  being's will. To a point, in either case. He obeys direct orders, but that's also a matter of interpretation-- monkey's paw and all that jazz, which usually means some clients will leave more satisfied than others -- generally in inverse proportion to how satisfied /he/ ends up.

Special Abilities: In his natural form he can heal wounds and cure poison, as well as ward his surroundings from evil spells. And fly, of course. In his human form he has a mild form of the first two, and retains a certain affinity with the forest as well as its fey creatures. There's also a form of emotional telepathy that he refuses to use in principle, much like his speech.

Dante - Anitaverse-like setting - Vampire

Full Name: Thyestes Mykene, AKA Dante M. Sforza
Nickname: Dante/Chameleon
Age: Somewhere around 2000, 1530 since turning. It's hard to tell since the years just roll together after a while.
Age apparent:45
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Pansexual
Occupation: Tourist, C.E.O.
Languages: Greek, Italian, English, enough French and Spanish to get by and a dash of German for spice.
Species: Ancient Vampire; Harlequin.
Powers: All Standard, plus Rise Early; Human Servant Creation; Resist Silver; Draw Blood From A Distance; Call Shadows --- Nature Masking/Day walking

Overall Appearance:

Good looks may not be a characteristic of the males of his bloodline, but this one possesses something else; in the aspect of the easygoing gentleman there is a controlled dignity which he drapes about himself as easily as his Poole & Co dinner suit. An average height man, his once brown hair now shot through with white and he carries his age with the energy of one years younger than he looks. His fully buttoned gray waistcoat forms to his midsection with nary a buckle or crease, framing a lean girth, and the shoes are the usual italian fare.

Height:5' 11"
Weight: 180
Eye Color: Brown
Hair color:Salt and Pepper
Hair Style:Short
Body shape:Wiry
Clothing:Conservative mostly.

Basic Personality:

Thyestes - the truth - is an old being that is both jaded and curious -- it is his curiosity, actually, that has kept him alive and fresh all this time. He continues to seek answers, and has a taste for new things that this new age has been quick to provide for. He's private and a bit neurotic, not to mention elitist to a point. Vampires First, if anything, though he's had enough deals with the other preternatural sorts to have formed enough of an opinion.

On the outside he is an assertive businessman, with a heavy hand and a rather caustic tongue who isn't too worried about what people think of him. Epicurean with Minimalist tastes, if you want a box to put him in.

Sexual Likes: Varies, mainly pushing buttons and seeing what happens.
Sexual Dislikes: Passive partners, lack of imagination.
Sexual Strengths: Experience, reading reactions and playing with them.
Sexual Weaknesses: He's rather jaded, and gets bored easily.

Merits: Clever, Curious, Balanced.

Flaws: Closed up, A bit paranoid, Closet Bigotry.

Eurypylus - The sire, lost in history but he's expected to be out there somewhere.
Elios - The Other, presumed dead.
Lucrecia - First child, marked circa 1200 turned circa 1500.
Andrea - Second child, marked circa 1500 turned circa 1750.   
Sophie - Human Servant, marked circa 1800.


Born in the island of Kos -- the time is really hard to determine, they had a different calendar back then -- Dante's parents were delighted when he was chosen by the satrap himself as his eromenos, where he would learn to assist him in the different tasks of governing. The fact that these tasks often included blood donation was not so much a secret as a well-kept conspiracy, and par for the course. He did really learn a lot. He grew stronger with the lessons, and as he grew older he caught the sight of the master at different times -- not because of his being striking at all, but for the whole unobtrusive way he had to do things. It was at that time when Elios began to use him to dispose a number bodies, and he was good enough at sowing rumors about the disappearances that there was never a question as of where their previous owners had gone to.

This was duly noted by the master, and he received the first mark then, the fourth to come later on at the mature age of forty-five, when he took over the master's care after Elios' disappearance. The old Master Eurypylus appeared to be a little crazy after that, yes, but our Dante only used that to his advantage through the years. The Hellenic era saw them with a different name and in a different city, following Mithridates to Egypt where they lived for many years under the radar -- the master's power allowed himself to be under no one's leash -- until Eurypylus claimed one too many lives, and the hounds were fast on their heels. Or that's what Dante was told, anyway. It was quite some time later that he would learn differently. This was later on, somewhere after they made it to Rome, when he found Elios again. The conversation was brief, but meaningful enough to give the long-lived servant a better idea of the truth. He continued investigating on his own.

He learned. It was never enough, though, he had to finally confront Eurypylus -- he'd always called that in spite of the different names he went by -- and in so doing he sealed his fate. Rather than killing him outright, the master rewarded his zeal and curiosity by turning him into his newest child, like he had done long ago for Elios. Things took a very weird turn after that. It was the year Julius Nepos died -- 480 by the gregorian calendar -- as this was after all the trigger for their talk. He was sent to live with the former satrap for the first few hundred years, and it was a time he doesn't really care to talk or even think about. He became much more, and when he was finally let loose into the world, the renaissance had come to pass.  He would never know true freedom, but at least now he was aware of this.

Dante was the name he took then, his first chosen one as a tribute to Alghieri's comedy, and so Dante watched the years pass as he proved his worth to those above him -- or perhaps even to himself. He has turned two children of his own since, each at a high cost, and neither without having the scales balanced at the same time. He goes where he is needed, and returns to his own home when he is not, deep in the countryside of Lombardy where his Kiss awaits and learns, to be allowed out only when they know enough to survive by the strict rules passed on through the Blood. He doesn't quite believe in legalization, and hasn't made it a point to tag himself for the masses, high or low. His latest identity is foolproof, as were the ones before it, and the next one is in waiting for when the time comes to change again.

"The next time I kill you, I promise you the labyrinth that consists of a single straight line that is both invisible and endless" ~Jorge Luis Borges.


Character Depository II

Leonora - Modern twisty Psychiatrist in a college setting

L. J. Acosta

Nicknames: Somehow they don’t seem to stick; the people who manage to get in her classes tend to be too busy for nicknames. Sometimes a very lucky newcomer may be warned by a wizened one not to ever call her Leo.
Age: Are you seriously asking That? Here’s a clue for the more socially inept of us out there: if a lady appears anywhere over twenty-nine, you shouldn’t even  hazard a guess. Ever.
Birthday: Do we celebrate existentialism?
But if you must
It's july 28

Sex: According to whose definition?
People who need to know what’s in everybody’s knickers are probably the reason why nobody should be telling.

Sexual Orientation: It’s complicated. Let’s call it Pan, since it’s wildly gender-irrelevant.
Occupation:  Psychology Professor, CoD
Residence:  There might be a couch in her office. Otherwise, a penthouse in town.

Face Claim: Gina Torres
Hair Color: Scorched Earth
Eye Color: Chocolate and gold
Height: 5’10”
Distinguishing Marks: None that she’d  leave for the naked eye to find.

Personality: In medicine, the saying goes: healer, heal thyself. When it comes to those learning to practice the psychological side of it, the old adage says instead that it tends to attract those who need it the most.  What would that say about Leonora, then? Nothing she would admit to, certainly, or that most people will be privy to.  What is left is the efficient, educated and proper - even friendly - educator when appropriate, which is most of the time, and sometimes a brassy, clear-cut, direct and no-holds-barred one for the rest. Try her at your own risk. Without the young'uns around she can - and occasionally has been seen to - let loose somewhat, and even been known to be cunning, witty and even somewhat testy, up to an occasional rambunctious - but nobody’d better acknowledge that in public, thank you.

Bio:  Someone said once that tragedy and brilliance often go hand in hand; alternatively, one might shine brighter under the light of the other.  A mixed-race child born and raised free-range in an island that wasn’t so free after all. There was a lot we were not privy to, either, but after a little blood and some tears the freedom ended with the child shipped over to their well-meaning grandparents in a much different island  -  Manhattan. Her  father’s side of the family is there still, but she doesn’t really acknowledge them or their money even though there are  rumors that she controls a good amount of it. She certainly does not and hasn’t used their name in, well, ever, really.   Boarding school was where Leonora unleashed her potential, catching up with her peers first, and then rushing forward into advanced classes and self-guided research, until finding a small network of likeminded peers with whom to forge a more interesting syllabus for their free time.

That lasted for a long time, through school and college, which meant she might have been somewhat boring, if her interests hadn’t been built around, you know, people. She is Fascinated by people. Back then, there was the watching and the questioning, the probing and the pushing. She was young and hungry. There was medical school, residency and her clinical boards that went so agonizingly slow that she quit that very evening and left to travel with a group of students around the world on some ridiculous research grant.  Rumor lays the blame upon the graceful shoulders of certain fellow traveller with a full mane of hair and an infectious laugh - true or not, she came back and pretty hair didn’t, so we may never know. Going back to that tragedy and brilliance thing, right?  That journey netted her several publications, a few studies and some books she still earns royalties on. It was quite the ordeal, and … well, it’s all in the books really, in all the gory or academic detail depending on your chosen edition. They are available for purchase at the university gift shop.  Feel free to ask her to sign one and be judged accordingly. Why Baymont, though? Good question. She’s been here for a while now. Yes, that’s not an answer.


  • Secrets
  • Lies
  • People
  • Dancing
  • Performance Arts
  • Sweet and Sour or Hot and Sour.
  • Opera
  • Footwear
  • Freudian Slips


  • People
  • Righteousness
  • Bigotry
  • Cinnamon or Anise
  • Being objectified
  • Pity
  • Scientology
  • Hannibal’s cancellation

Desired Plots:

Connections, connections, connections! Past and present, from her school years back east, or right here in Baymont, let’s figure out what we’ve been up to - still working on these! ;)

Gimme everything! I mean, I’m  a sucker for plotfu.  You wanna bounce Ideas? I got plenty of those too, just if I keep typing I’m never going to hand this off for approval.

- If anyone wants anything to do that gets them some extra access to faculty and stuff, there's always need for slaves helpful internshiplike positions:
Sign in sheet 2
There’s room for two (2) TA positions in the PsyD team this year. They will be filled by the end of the month, we’ll be taking applications until three Fridays before that deadline.

Additional Details: 

Plot 1: Study Group

Sign in sheet 1
Did you ever want to be part of something bigger than yourself? This might be your chance, throw your name in the hat now for the next PsyD research project, and you might  have a chance at it next year. 
is a familiar sight - only a small sample group gets picked each year for the study, and it seems to be an easy way to get both credit and a bit of  extra insight into what makes people do the things they do. Or something. Also, it might be fun. Or awful, depending on who you ask.

Notice to Students:

Having welcome our student body to campus once again, the PsyD remains  ready to attend to all of your concerns. This is a reminder that we have a number of staff counselors ready to listen to you should you have any concerns or desire to discuss events, whether pertaining to last spring or not. For those who wish to remain anonymous, we have left an slot box for you to leave your written notes to us.  I will personally go through it once a week and enter my answers into the school blog where appropriate so you all have access to them. Thank you all for your time, and continue to enjoy your year at Baymont.

L.J. Acosta, . MD-PhD


There’s a lot more to her than meets the eye! (duh)
She once punched a dude in the jaw and broke his nose.
She sleeps around with half the faculty and her ‘special’ students.
She’s too repressed to sleep around with anyone. Clearly OCD, and from that shoe game she’s sporting, she’s probably into something Else.
She's a cold-blooded, manipulative backstabber, that one. Somehow she got where she's at.

Ferenc Koháry - Modern, Fashion Affairs, Socialite/Artist

Ferenc Koháry


Sex: Cis-Male
Age: 48
Birthday: July 24th
Race/Ethnicity: All the blood of Old Hungary, and some norse on the side.
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual (Go ahead, ask. You know you want to.)
Occupation: Sugar Daddy / Sikrit Arteezt.


Hair Color: Burnt Sienna
Eye Color: Seal Brown
Height: 6'
Distinguishing Marks: Unique wedding and signet rings. Unmistakeable flair.
Other Details: He has large, strong, rough hands - incongruent perhaps with his idle-rich image.



  • Perfectionist
  • Creative
  • Artistic
  • Explosive
  • Secretive
  • Introverted
  • Cynical
  • Confident
  • Observant
  • Perceptive


  • Inspiration
  • A good wine
  • Cuban cigars
  • Actual coffee - no, sorry, Starbucks doesn't count.
  • Steak, medium well
  • Wet clay
  • Charcoal
  • Beauty
  • Ugliness


  • His wife's occasionally poor decision making
  • Sushi. What. A. Fad.
  • Questions about his breeding status yet again. We're not procreating, thank you. Already have enough nephews to avoid on the holidays.
  • Dry Clay
  • Nosy People
  • The idle poor
  • Politics, Religion, Smalltalk
  • Pop music - what's that Noise?
  • Crass people
  • Manipulation attempts


The Koháry are old, old money. That said, little else is know about the eldest scion of the house, other that his being much of a hermit and Colette's mysterious husband. It is the way he likes it, it would seem - Ferenc is an exceedingly private man. Those who work closest to the designer will know that the best of her work is done around him, and she is seen to trust his eye where she does not anyone else's.

Fashion is quaint, and somewhat of an interest to the male half of the Koháry, but it is hardly his focus. Some know more than others of course; his family, for example, knows of his spotless academic record and the brilliant reviews of his teachers at the prestigious boarding schools in which he spent most of his youth. His classmates know of his eerie way of focusing on whatever took his attention, be it the dusty corner of a bookcase or the side of a broken tooth, and his art teachers might remember the sort of things he could achieve with a musical instrument, or with his bare hands when he cared to try. He didn't care to try often though, not really.

As a person, Ferenc's main quality is that of being secretive. For many reasons, he had to be. His meeting Nicolas -- Colette -- was a pivotal point in his life, and as such nobody but the two really Know anything about it. It was sometime in those years that the Magyar would emerge; an artist whose work quickly escalated in popularity and demand. Whether paintings, carvings or sculptures, critics quickly came to the same conclusion as the buyers: It wasn't simply the way in which he captured the motion, or the realism of his strokes, but rather how every single piece provoked intense emotions from those who beheld them; sometimes too much so. It was the same way in which they plotted Colette's metamorphosis, not in clay, but in flesh, just a little change at a time.

When she took the fashion world by surprise, he couldn't have been more delighted in her.

Time passed, as it is wont to do, with things settling down to comfortable and expected, until the unexpected happened -- and what do you do with that? He lost more than his muse that year, he nearly lost Colette with it, and a large part of himself perhaps in the bargain. It is not that the world is dull, no. There is just so little left in it that still gives him that itch at the tip of his fingers. Too much perfection, perhaps; he doesn't know.


People he can sort of relax around

  • Colette - Still adores her. Some day she will decide she wants to understand.
  • Roberto Antonelli - everything Ferenc isn't, in some ways. He likes his style and has been known to purchase and wear some of his collection items. Unlike others, he also hasn't used his secrets against him yet, which is a great plus.
  • Alejandro Carlos Contreras - Kérlek.
  • Hervè du Raveriel - Someone he trusts implicitly, much like he once did his father.

Under the looking glass:

  • Lilith Martin - She is accommodating and easy to get along with; she also knows a little too much. We shall see.
  • Mary Anne Pope - that was a costly mistake.
  • Diego Miguel de la Fuente - As handsome as he is dangerous. Roberto trusts him, but can we?
  • Elizabeth ‘Bet” O’hara - Necessary things don’t have to be easy to get along with. She does her job very well.

Additional Details

Rumors, come get your rumors!

- Frank who?
- He's nowhere as wealthy as he makes himself to be.
- He has a thing against chemical living.
- He's probably a drug lord

Colette Koháry - Modern Fashion Affairs, Designer

Colette Koháry


Sex: Female (Trans)
Age: Not a day over 30 (45)
Birthday: June 5th
Race/Ethnicity: French to the bone.
Sexual Orientation: Hetero.
Occupation: Top Designer


Hair Color: Dark Blond
Eye Color: Pale blue
Height: 5'5"
Distinguishing Marks: A huge rock on her ring finger (the rings design is rather unique as well, but very few people have actually gotten past the shiny to look at them.) A pair of interns following her Everywhere. And I /do/ mean Everywhere.
Other Details:



  • Creative
  • Expressive
  • Flamboyant
  • Aproval-seeker
  • Insecure
  • Jealous
  • OCD
  • buuuut Kind.


  • Her Husband, even when he's an ass.
  • Her Body (with what he paid for it, she'd better.)
  • Being in the front page.
  • Diamonds, platinum settings.
  • Crimson, it's coming back.
  • Being waited on upon hand and knee.


  • Animals and kids (AKA Pests.)
  • Second page and after.
  • People who copy her designs without permission.
  • Purple. It's so three seasons ago.


There are many things the girl named Nicolas did before she became Colette that she is not proud of, and it would be hard for anyone to even find out about them. Born in the wrong side of Paris, fashion was something she heard about but never dreamt of participating in until she met Ferenc, and even then it took a long road to become who she is now. Between the cold, dark cobblestones and the brightly-lit catwalks there was a long story of change, discovery and loss. Seventeen years ago to this week she had her first show in Paris, and it has all been worth it ever since. For the most part. Two years ago they went through a rough patch, she and her husband, even the magazines commented how they were taking separate vacations for the first time Ever - but they worked it out, promise. He's even been showing up at some of her events of late, if only for a little while.

"If you want to know what a season is about, you don't miss the Koháry show," says the fashion director for The Jour. "She never follows anyone else's lead, just her own original energy. Her collections are completely an expression of her Self." And her Self appears to be always curious, flamboyant, and a full step ahead of most emerging trends. Let's be honest here, she doesn't give a bushel of turnips for the dictates of fashion, and it has often worked quite well for her. She is said to like a good challenge, and the rush she gets from making something beautiful out of something ugly.


The Dinner List:

  • Ferenc Koháry - Her Pygmalion, the love of her life and half her collection at the very least whether he knows it or not.
  • Mary Anne Pope - The ice-fairy godmother, both an example and a cautionary tale of what it takes to be a woman in fashion.
  • Roberto Antonelli - Mother, Father, Gentleman. He is more family than any blood relatives that she ever had, even if sometimes she'd want to cut him.
  • Diego Miguel de la Fuente - He really knows how to wear a Koháry. Enough said.
  • Adrian Wright - The garcon is an amazing workhorse, and didn’t even overstay his welcome. One to watch.

People who should be extra careful around scissors:

  • Alejandro Carlos Contreras - It is what it is, but sometime, somewhere, something is going to break.
  • Asella Nese - She didn't have what it took back then, and she doesn't have it now. She needs to stay on her side of the line.
  • That little designer who keeps copying her stuff, she knows who she is.
  • Any man known to have been alone in her husband's company for long enough. Yes, that's a subjective measure, Captain Obvious.
  • Anyone wearing purple.

Additional Details


- At least two people have been known to have had 'accidents' in her atelier - both had also been rumored to have caught her husband's eye.
- A former employee once hinted at her having 'at least' two escort services on speed dial. They promptly retracted the statement however.
- She can be very difficult to work for, but the advantages definitely outweigh the disadvantages.

Mary Anne Pope - Modern Fashion Affairs, Editor

Mary Anne Pope


Sex: Cis-Female
Age: Old enough to know that your clothes were out of style thirty years ago. Were you born this rude or did you go to school for it?
Birthday:June 15th
Race/Ethnicity: Mostly British stock.
Sexual Orientation: If you know me well enough to ask, you probably know the answer.
Occupation: Editor in chief of ... do you even have to ask? Bring me a reporter who knows their job for heaven's sake.


Hair Color: Platinum White at the moment.
Eye Color: Blue
Height: 5'6"
Distinguishing Marks:
Other Details:



  • Intelligent
  • Sarcastic
  • No-nonsense
  • Cold-blooded
  • Strategic
  • Knowledgeable
  • Willful
  • Opportunistic


  • Order
  • Pulling Strings
  • That second when you see the first tile land on top of the next.
  • Swimming
  • Green Ghosts


  • Chaos
  • Interference
  • Bad Taste


She wields considerable influence over European fashion. Runway shows don't start until she arrives. Designers succeed because she anoints them. Trends are created or crippled on her command. But Mary Anne Pope, editor in chief of .. well, if you know anything about fashion, you know exactly who she is, says she is determined to use her power for the good of the industry. Despite her reputation for being icy and inscrutable, despite the severe perfection of her hairstyle and wardrobe, Pope has taken it upon herself to act as something of a mother hen to fledgling designers and worthy causes. At least that is her story, and she's sticking to it. A self-proclaimed feminist, it is said there's something of a bad blood between her and Roberto Antonelli, but few would remember why - and it can't be true anyway, they just /adore/ each other.



  • Roberto Antonelli - Oh, where to begin? It has been a lifetime.
  • The Kohárys - She just Thrives in secrets, and these two have enough of those to make her giddy.
  • Diego de la Fuente - Always reliable, for a male model rep. One of Roberto's, let's not forget that.
  • Adrian Wright - Shiny! This could go /so many ways./ Extremely promising as a designer, and as other things as well.
  • Roberto's boytoys - They come and go, and don't we all know it. So will this Armando, or whatever.
  • Mei Ito - An interesting sight, to say the least. She could be the next Thing.
  • Henri Belleford - Inheriting one of her old chairs makes him interesting; his inability to take a direct hint makes him unacceptable.
  • James Marquardt - Underhanded little donkey; she would have done the same though.
  • Anyone who matters

Inconsecuential pawns:

  • Dominic Harris
  • Her last four ex-husbands
  • The probably-soon-to-be fifth

Additional Details

Rumors!! You know what they say about rumors, right? Always take them with a grain of salt - or ten.

- Mary Anne Pope is the Devil.
- She is Roberto's best friend and confidante
- Years ago she said some very inconsiderate things about Roberto's image and his rise to the top.
- Roberto stole at least two of her husbands.
- After she shared them with him.
- They still have dinner together now and then.
- She's a veteran of the casting couch - both ways.

Adrian Wright - Modern Fashion Affairs, Designer

Adrian Wright


Sex: Agender, AKA Social constructs can kiss my ass.
Age: 27
Birthday: February 1st
Race/Ethnicity: Native american/Hispanic
Sexual Orientation: Androsexual
Occupation: Designer, maybe?


Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Dark Brown
Height: 5'8"
Distinguishing Marks: Some tribal tattoos
Other Details:



  • Impatient
  • Excitable
  • Curious
  • A bit naive
  • Instinctive affinity with fabrics


  • The finished product
  • Real Fur - sorry PETA
  • Hot chiles
  • Free meals


  • Pleather
  • Being patronized


A relative newcomer to the industry, he is a definite newcomer to the circles of haute couture. Like... yesterday new. He grew up in a small town and eventually made it to the big apple with his pair of scissors, sketch book and a whole lot of attitude. It should not have lasted long, really, because he didn't make friends easily and hadn't enough money to push through the lines, but then there was this little contest on a magazine that he sent a design for - and actually won.

The requests came up from there then, one or two at a time, paying well enough where he needn't worry to do much else to survive, until he received the second prize. Whoever his benefactor was had approved his collection, and he had earned a trip to ..PARIS! for himself and a plus one in order to show it off at one of the fashion shows there. He's since found out his benefactor to be none other than Mary Anne Pope, and that's actually quite a bit unnerving if anyone wants to dig that deep.



  • Mei Ito - Otter - Best Friend, maybe a little more.
  • Diego de la Fuente - Grizzly Bear - Holy translation service, Batman!
  • Alejandro Contreras -  Falcon - As nice a person as he is beautiful.
  • Leo Belloni - Hawk - Those eyes see everything.
  • Colette Koháry - Fox - Wily, beautiful, and so full of secrets.
  • Ferenc Koháry - SpiderWolf - So many things in one, can never tell which is which.
  • Dominic Harris - Horse - You only had to ask.
  • James Marquardt -  Coyote - Laughter and Mischief. It always belonged to you.

Additional Details


- He's one of Roberto's new darlings
- He's a charity case
- His collection is SO going to flop

"The next time I kill you, I promise you the labyrinth that consists of a single straight line that is both invisible and endless" ~Jorge Luis Borges.


Mind-Children -- Stories seeking Co-Writers

I have no particular preference over which character I play within these stories; let's talk.

An heir and a Spare

It wasn't much of an issue until recently, but since the passing of the character's older brother, he is expected by his family to provide those sooner or later. They worry that he has never really showed that much interest in the fair sex, and those few they have sent to his bed having either failed to entice him or chose to remain mum as of what went on once the doors closed. His bride has already been chosen, and the wedding planning started even as he prefers to drown himself in his own pastimes to avoid thinking about it. Maybe there is shyness, maybe he just has no idea of what to do with them, maybe he simply is happy to wait. Enter Character 2. He's someone's friend, a foreign dignitary's son, something like that -- who cares, right? He has been around of late, sharing a game of cards, looking for a book in the library, running the fox in a hunt. Women flock to him like bees to honey, and he has no trouble ending the evening with one of them in each arm. Friendship came slow, but it came, and the appearance of trust is there by the time the offer comes. The character could join him when he visits his latest conquest if they want to - they aren't obliged to join in, but she's shown an interest in being watched at play with him and you they his Best Friend. The only one he can trust not to spill the beans on her identity - she is married, after all. Who knows, you could learn a thing or two. Can that be all there is to it?

A loop in Time

And you have full control over it. What would you do if you knew for a fact that anything you do can be erased from everyone's memory by the next morning? Everyone's memory but your own. Would you try the double peanut-butter-fudge icecream? Would you spend every last cent and then some more in that perfect car? Would you try a new lover? A father asking these questions would be odd enough -- but then, so is the way he's been looking at you since this morning.

Never in a hundred years.

He is one of the luminaries of his profession. Some call him a genius, some call him a womanizer, most everyone calls him an asshole. He has nothing against the gays, but they better not get any ideas -- he's punched more than one idiot for much less than that. An eminently homophobic professional gets forced to work with someone who, little by little, begins to erode the foundations of everything he's ever Known.

After The End

The world is over. Zombies, a plague, a disaster, war, it matters not -- the end result is a dangerous world where it is easier to survive on one's own than as a large group, yet men are not made to be alone. There must be a safe place, somewhere they can sleep, someone they can trust, only to be betrayed again and again. How do we cope, where do we Survive?


Nothing here!

Ideas to explore within some favorite literary universes:

- The story of a male (or female, if I can be convinced) anguisette with a full Mandrake Marque - BDSM Singularity at its best.

- A young but wise weyrwoman, two feuding wingleaders, and mating flight with more than one winner.

Wheel of Time
- Exploring the triangle between an Aes Sedai and her two warders: her twin brother and their lover.

"The next time I kill you, I promise you the labyrinth that consists of a single straight line that is both invisible and endless" ~Jorge Luis Borges.


"The next time I kill you, I promise you the labyrinth that consists of a single straight line that is both invisible and endless" ~Jorge Luis Borges.