No-QuarterNothing To FearBut Fear ItselfRegistered Userregular
edited December 2007
OK! TADA! Sorry it took so long. TS you can PM with hook ideas.
Character Sheet
Player: No-Quarter
Character: Jack Undergallows, aka Happy Jack, Smilin' Jack, Mad Jack, Jackie Grin, Jack O' Lantern etc
Concept: The Trick or Treat Hitman
Age: 24 (21 at age of abduction)
Seeming: Elemental- Jack is the Autumnal Incarnation of a tree and plant spirit.
Kith: WoodKind
Court: Autumn
Flaws: Addiction (Pranks), Behavior Blind
Attributes
Mental: Intelligence 3, Wits 3, Resolve 2
Social: Presence 3, Manipulation 2, Composure 1
Physical: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2
Equipment: None, I was hoping TS could get me a pistol (preferably a revolver) so Jack could gun peoplez down!
Background/ Abduction
Jack always loved the Fall. To him it wasn't just a collection of months reflecting a season. The Fall to him was something else, something primal. His friends would joke about the enthusiasm with which Jack took to the varied autumnal festivities, Halloween not being the least of which. Once a year on Halloween, Jack could be a different person. Every year another more elaborate costume and performance was put forward. He used to brag that if he could meet the Autumn herself, he would marry her on the spot. Knowing what he does now, Jack mightn't have been so loose with his tongue.
A naturally intelligent and bright learner, Jack excelled at academics and research. He excelled at memorization and observation skills, and could often glance at a page and take a mental snapshot of it to be field away for later. Given his wit, it's not surprising that Jack was always considered charming, if somewhat of a bastard given his propensity for playing pranks and practical jokes. Always apparent was his broad grin, his mother had called him Jack O' Lantern when he was a boy. Not settling simply for an excellent mind, Jack trained his body to a great degree. Favoring leanness over bulk, Jack is as taut is a whip, and is as fast as his mouth. (Which is really really fast). A silver tongue and a better bullshitter there never was, Jack was bound for great things.
One day while hiking on a flawless day in October, Jack became hopelessly lost in the forest. A natural survivor and a outdoorsman in addition to his other skills, Jack was at first baffled at how he could have become lost in a preservation he knew like the back of his hand. As the hours dragged on, this confusion led to uncertainty, which led to fear, which led to an outright unreasoning terror. Through glades and paths uncounted, Jack wandered. Despite his fear, Jack found himself entranced by the beauty of his surroundings. It was dusk, and the light made the colors of the changing leaves seem to....shift. Jack found himself in a waking contradiction of fear and wonder. Parts of him wanted to escape the woods, but another was touched by his surroundings. He continued on and seeking to make a short cut, took a side path that eventually led into a thick patch of thorns. Struggling on he entered a vastly differently looking part of the woods. There were pumpkins growing here, surprising, though not impossible given the season. They didn't seem....right though. Nothing did. Behind every shadow he could swear he saw faces leering at him, Strange lights danced at the edge of his vision. And the moon...when had the moon come up? Not only that, but when had it gotten so high. A blood red crescent hung in the sky, and suddenly he began to hear a voice...
A gorgeous bittersweet song that promised both warmth and cold, welcome and warning, joy and terror, beauty and madness. Upon entering a clearing he saw Her. Seated upon a a rock, she was was wreathed by the winds with a constantly changing cloak of leaves that swirled about her. Her skin was pale, and her lips a deep red. Wearing gossamer fabrics of darkened oranges, reds, greens, yellows, and browns, and blacks she was the most fantastic thing he had ever seen. Flowers and leaves were ruffled through her hair. Her eyes changed colors and were rimmed with a twinkle.
As he looked upon them, they sparkled in good humor and warmth, but there was a chill to her looks just beneath the surface. A cruelty to her perfect features. As he approached, she noticed him and beckoned him forward. Unable to resist a creature of such terrible and unearthly grace, Jack crept forward and embraced Her. Who knows how long she spoke to him. She told him her name, a name as old as the leaves and the trees. As he wept tears of joy while looking in the eyes of the "goddess" he had the supreme fortune of meeting, he swore he would be Hers. With a smile she accepted his offer, and then she changed. Her skin sank inward and wrinkled, and her visage of angled featuresandf beauty and perfection twisted into cruelty and horror. The Autumn had reaped it's bounty.
Durance/Escape/Mad Jack
The Fall is a season of contradictions. For every pleasant smell of leaves and spice, there is the sickly sweet smell of decay and a fell chill on the wind. Both kindness and cruelty are rolled into the month that celebrates the harvest of ripened fruit, but also signals the oncoming death and darkness of winter. This carried over to Jack's durance and no one understands it better than he. For 3 long years Jack lived with his beloved/loathed Mistress. For every moment of unbridled bliss, there was an equivalent one of indescribable agony. He served simultaneously as a suitor/champion/assassin for his Mistress and she rewarded him well with both pleasure and pain. As time went on and Jack was exposed to terror and bliss in equal measure his mind snapped. He remembers bits and pieces of his stay, and it seems every time he closes his eyes he remembers both wonders and horrors in equal measure. He has nightmares, and despite his obvious dementia, even Jack will admit his mind is hiding things from him.
At some point, perhaps in a moment of exquisite bliss or agony (or both) Jack woke up to his existence. Horrified beyond belief by what had happened to him, Jack fled the Eternal Autumnal Groves. Once his Mistress had learned of his escape, she turned her power toward capturing her wayward suitor. Her full power bent to the task, the true nightmares of the Autumnal Realm were set loose. Creatures dying, but never truly dead assailed Jack, and it was only through luck and skill that he managed to survive to make it to the Hedge. Once there Jack was hunted through the shadows by his Mistresses servants, until when he felt all hope was lost, Jack stumbled into the Real.
Hid mind ravaged by his capture, what emerged from the Hedge at first couldn't be considered a true consciousness. He lay on his back upon rain-slicked and muddy grass as a light rain licked at his features. His vision swam as the world he once knew flooded into his senses. As he stared up into the gray sky and the changing leaves above him, he noticed a large shape looming to his left. After so long in Faerie, Jack's sense had become acute to suffering, and the stench of death and fear hung from it. Fear he had been found by his mistress. His eyes swam back into focus and what he saw triggered a memory. Jack, I swear one day you're going to end up under the gallows, just like your damn name. Jack Undergallows. That was his name. The realization and the irony was too much for the overstimulated Jack to bear and he began to laugh. He hasn't stopped since.
Discovered shortly after by an Ogre of the Autumn Court, Jack was nursed back to health after his ordeal. His physical wounds healed in time, but the mental scars plunge much deeper. Constantly bombarded with contradicting stimuli of extreme mirth and horror, Jack no longer has the tools to properly tell the difference between what causes these stimuli by his own actions. That is, when dealing with others Jack often acts inappropriately (if not dangerously on occasion) in the guise of his pranks. He is capable of understanding which emotion is which, but often not which actions will trigger which stimuli. Therefore, sometimes Jack is unable to tell the difference between a harmless joke like a whoopy cushion, and one which is deadly serious- such as a white phosphorous pie to the face. Not only can Jack sometimes not be able to differentiate between harmless and deadly, he has become almost compulsive with his pranks. They keep his mind off of remembering, something which his mind apparently feels is of critical importance. Jack does have perfect mastery over observing the actions and consequences of other people however. He will often fly into a rage over observed injustices toward others. In this way, Jack has become useful to the Court. his friend and Mentor setting him up with "work" that would take advantage of his talents. Not remembering who he was besides his name, the Ogre promised Jack he would see to finding out his true identity. In return Jack would serve the court as an enforcer and assassin. A skilled fighter with a curiously skewed moral compass, the Court could use him to simply pick off their enemies. However, they have found him much more useful as a terror weapon. A weapon who's purpose is paranoia, and whose claws are long reaching.
He has since become known as the "Trick or Treat Hitman," and garnered a reputation as a brutal keeper of the peace in the freehold. Crime is rife in any city, but rather than prey on the populace, Jack hunts criminals to sate his appetite for fear. He finds their brand particularly flavorful as most are true cowards when confronted with someone more powerful than the civilians they are used to oppressing.
Although generally lucid, Jack is still unstable and though he is usually grinning, there are times the other half of his nature emerges, and this is a frightful thing indeed. He also prone to panic attacks and outbreaks of fear. He is genuinely trying to keep himself under control, and his mentor believe he has some friends he thinks would help him.
Despite his....problems, Jack become quite useful to the Court. The fear that such tales of him arouse, serves the Court well, and there are whispers that Jack will go far- if he can stop acting like such a nutter.
Appearance
In his human guise, Jack appears as handsome as the day he was taken. Brown hair, pale skin, stubble fashioned into a well-kept beard. His eyes flash between green, brown and haze, and an odd trick of the light occurs when one stares into his eyes, provoking thoughts of flickering candlelight. He is always impeccably dressed, usually featuring modern stylings and a long black overcoat.
His Mien portrays a much different visage. His clothes appear somewhat ruffled and threadbare, his hair slightly unkempt with bits of straw and leaves strewn throughout. Straw also pokes from his cuffs and neckline. Most disturbing of all, Jack's face takes on the eerie glow of a Jack O' Lantern. His eyes and mouth appear hollow despite a ghostly orange/yellow light that flickers brightly behind them. As he walks leaves fall out from the creases and cuffs of his clothes. He smells of freshly harvested fruit such as apples, sticks of cinnamon, and other autumnal goodies, but beneath it is a twinge of sickly sweet decay so common with the season. When he becomes enraged, his darker aspect emerges, his skin shrivels, his grin becomes hideous, and his eyes burn with angry balefire.
WOW that took awhile. I hope that's good I'm not proofreading it.
Your sheet is fine. Starting with a revolver is fine.
I just finished a workout so I'm a little woozy, but I'll be reading this and then edit in my responses (and then PM you with a hook).
Your background is fine. I can certainly work with it. Reviewing it, I don't see any issue. You may want to create a little more background about your NPC buddy (keep in mind that without taking dots in Allies or Mentors he rightfully can't come into play very often). He could probably have a little tie in with the primary freehold of the chronicle. I'll fire off a hook later tonight.
Turning this into a general update:
Still waiting for Powerslave to respond to the hook. No rush but, well, things do kick off tomorrow.
The room will probably be something like #PAChangeling or what have you. Please put [PA] before your name. The room MAY be passworded, if so, it'll be the PA standard (wang). Remember we'll be starting at 8 PM EST.
Meet your Freehold:
Freehold Name: Faithful Cycle
Nickname: Cyclists
A small freehold hidden under the facade of a neighborhood strip of little townhouses and a nightclub (The Masked Sorrow, "The Mask") across the street. Tunnels connect the basements of the homes and the nightclub.
The Cycle has lost contact with allied freeholds recently. The dedicated runnerswift cheetah-boy courier has gone missing as well (substituted by the windwing butterfly-girl scout).
It's ruled by the eldest Autumn Court member (fitting with the season) of the freehold, a bright one, who also owns the properties it sits on.
This isn't the type of nightclub where you go to dry hump sweaty strangers to crappy electronica. No. This is one of those upscale kind of things. Somber lighting, dining and drinks, and live music (mostly jazz and blues) are what people come for. Not quite black tie but blue jeans are verboten.
Of course, there's a "VIP" entrance in the back, where "special guests" can "take off their masques" and let their hair down without worrying about putting up appearances. Strangely, very few of the regulars are ever extended membership. It's a very exclusive section of the club...
The freehold as an organization gets it's name from the fact that it has always been respectful of the Seasonal Court traditions. For many, many years, it has seen a smooth and amiable transition from Seasonal Ruler to Seasonal Ruler.
A minor scandal has been whispered through the less noticeable members of the freehold in recent days. The Autumnal Lady has ascended the throne weeks earlier than she should have, at the behest of the Twin Kings of Summer. Rumors fly, but none seem to cling for long, ephemeral and weak without any evidence for backing.
Freehold NPCs:
Miranda (The Light):
Bright One, Autumn Court
Tall, beautiful, radiant, swan-like. It can be hard to look at her directly, with her skin of glowing sun and hair a prismatic glory.
Miranda is a powerful force of personality and of finance. She owns several properties around the city, most of them residential, but a few commercial. Though unable to enforce her will physically, the sheer presence and intensity of her personality and appearance often makes it hard for others to disagree.
It also helps that she won the lottery about a decade back and managed her wealth wisely.
She relinquishes rulership of the freehold outside of the season of Autumn, but even when the current ruler is sitting, they often go to her for advice out of respect for her and an acknowledgement of her wisdom. She has cultivated a safe haven with a granite foundation, earning her much respect among the changeling community.
However, her hospitality towards escapees and unfortunates has earned her many enemies among the privateers and loyalists. Recent months have seen her slowly draw away from changeling society, even as she strives to provide fellow changelings with safety and surety in their uncertain lives.
Sylphi and Silphy (The Sisters):
Airtouched, Spring Court
Their long white hair seems to flow freely as if always toyed with by a breeze, even when indoors. Their lips and fingernails are blue. A sharp, cutting blue, not a cold, chilling blue. Their skin is a slightly greyish shade of white, clear and smooth. Eyes a solid, energetic white, tickling with electricity when they're caught in the grip of powerful emotions. As their seeming implies, they are slight of build, but of elegant grace and a willowy height.
Totally identical. They often complete sentences for each other. They tend to dress in the same whispy, ephemeral clothing and deliberately refuse to identify themselves with their old human names. Something that can be a source of tension among freehold members.
Capricious and flighty, they have a witty sense of humor that can be cruel at times. Speaking out and laughing with carefree, spritely voices whenever it's appropriate. And sometimes when it is very inappropriate.
Assists Miranda in managing various properties she owns throughout the city.
Nitara (Wings):
Windwing, Winter Court
A young, impish thing with multifaceted eyes, colorful, speckled skin and long, curled eyebrows of deep, royal purple that matches her short, wild mane of hair. She's a little silp of a girl, barely five feet tall, hardly any weight to her. She dresses in charming little celtic-styled clothes that she makes herself. She favors short-sleeved shirts and capri pants. When she has to wear a jacket, she pulls on one of those zip-up hoodies with handwarmer pockets, they seem to change color every day, who knows how many she has... Has a satchel covered in buttons and patches which she treats with almost religious reverence. Absolutely hates wearing shoes. When she needs to, she has a pair of ratty old 70s-style converse that she slips on.
Pulls double duty (with no complaints, she even volunteered) as both street-scout and courier for the freehold. Despite her small and child-like appearance, she's in her early 20s. Stunted by her time in the Fae. She talks exceedingly fast and can be difficult to understand at times. It's as if a pile of words trapped in her brain pound against the door of her mouth, all pouring out at once when she opens it.
It's no small cause for concern when she's out combing the streets and keeping her ear to the ground for changeling-specific information, she's small and fragile. But she's been able to do her job with success so far, and with no broken bones, lost teeth or knife wounds...
Amin and Tariq (The "Brothers"):
Summer Court
Unrelated men of arabic descent who shared a resemblance in their lives prior to being snatched through the Hedge. They dress in a similar style, casual-professional wear, slacks and dress shoes, dark, solid color button ups but with no ties. They cultivate a well-groomed appearance so as not to stand out when working The Mask and because, hey, it makes them feel a little more human. They aren't shy about that fact.
They now serve as bouncers at The Mask (though why a relatively exclusive club in a gentrified neighborhood would need bouncers is always a topic of curious discussion among new patrons) and also take it upon themselves to preserve the safety of the entire freehold. They are very large and muscular, darkly handsome despite their miens and all around great guys who you would probably like to have a beer with if you knew them in real life. Seriously they are p. cool and always seem to have a quick, disarming wit that bears no malice and are free with compliments. One time I was out in Manhattan and I got a flat and when I called into the hold to see if anyone else was around to help me out, and no one was, they both came out and made sure I got outta privateer country with no pieces missing. No questions asked no favors owed. Solid dudes and extremely cool like I said.
Just don't make them angry because they will rip your head off man I am not even joking. You should have seen that privateer... what was his name? Alphonso "the Snake" Peterson? Yeah man, the cops found his head and some of his neck in a basketball hoop with the net tied shut. All covered in flies and rotting in the summer sun.
Still, cool guys.
Amin:
Broadback
Powerfully built, with a dark, caramel skin and thick, black hair that grows like a carpet over his chest and arms. His hair is curly and wild, there's a slight hint of extension to his canines and his hands end in powerful claws. He keeps his beard shaven, but if allowed to grow, it gives him a much more primal, animalistic look, growing short and thick like the fur over a bear's muzzle.
Tariq:
Stonebones
Just as powerfully built, and with a dark umber skintone. His body seems to be made of pure rock, but no type native to earth. More of an archetype or characature of a rock than a specific kind of stone. Unlike his partner, he has lost all body hair, and even the hair on his head and face. Though thankfully, his Mask gives him a nice full head for all the ladies to swoon over.
"Jiffy" Jeffy:
Runnerswift (cheetah), Courtless
Not many people want to talk about him since he went missing. Asking about him tends to get a rebuking look and, if persistent, rebuffing chastisement.
His disappearance makes people nervous. Most anyone will say (and just to inform the new folks) is that he was a damn good courier, fast as hell but skittish and neurotic. He had a bad time in the Fae and no one likes to be reminded of their bad time in the Fae, and that's what asking about anyone's time in the Fae does. It reminds everyone about their time in the Fae.
Probably best to leave it at that.
"Syn/Ack":
Wizened, Courtless
The weird kid. "That Guy." "Him."
Whatever you want to call him, this kid is off. Just plain off. Stammering, stuttering, jittering. Talking to himself. He's out there.
His body seems pulled, as he it were a child stretched like taffy to a man's proportions. Impossibly thin and gaunt. He's always wearing some kind of baggy clothing to hide it, too. Sweaters, hoodies, baggy jeans that are way out of fashion, even in punk circles. But that doesn't matter so much, he never really leaves the underground complex.
Ever.
His skin has that classic shut-in fluorescent tan (that is, pale, nearly translucent white), and when he isn't covering his head with a hood, hat or just his hands (you know, when he has a panic attack or a nervous breakdown), his shaggy, greasy black hair is there for all to see. Though occasionally he borrows someone's clippers and trims it to stubble.
His face seems to be frozen in an expression stuck between pained and fearful, as if he's haunted by his own memories all day long. Though vaguely human, his eyes can look in different directions at once (and they often do, even in conversation), like a chameleon, which is useful because he spends all his waking life staring at a bank of computer monitors and typing away at various keyboards.
Created a custom instant messaging service for the freehold, runs on Windows, OS X and most linux distros. He also maintains a private intranet between The Mask and the properties owned by Miranda.
Probably autistic, but can hold a mockery of a conversation.
Consider this IC information that you could find out after being introduced to the freehold itself. There are more members than presented here, these are just the only ones that are truly important. Feel free to create a "friend" for yourself if you want. We'll just assume they're another freehold NPC. Think of the NPCs presented here as the supporting cast.
Feel free to ask any questions about things you may be wondering. Such as, "What would my character find out if I asked this question?" etc.
The basic plot is hinted at here, but don't expect any of the cards to fall until actual play starts.
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No-QuarterNothing To FearBut Fear ItselfRegistered Userregular
Your background is fine. I can certainly work with it. Reviewing it, I don't see any issue. You may want to create a little more background about your NPC buddy (keep in mind that without taking dots in Allies or Mentors he rightfully can't come into play very often). He could probably have a little tie in with the primary freehold of the chronicle. I'll fire off a hook later tonight.
I wanted to take a mentor dot and plan on it soon. We could have him at the beginning and give Jack a good pep talk and some stuff before going away on business. I would also like to a bit more in depth of Jack's mindset as an assassin and how his ideas of right and wrong come into play.
What time is everyone expected online? Is there anything you would like for us to have prepared, TS? Should we have the books on hand or anything else?
Feel free to show up any time before 8. I'd like to kick off about then, and carrying the game for about two hours.
My current plan is to have most of the dramatic plot elements unveil during the main two hours per week game, and then if people want to fart around via PMs and in the IC thread, we can have a little more subtle exposition there.
When you log on to the IRC server simply type /join #PAChangeling and you'll bet here with me and the trusty dice-bot.
To roll dice, you just use simple written commands.
1d10 will roll one die, 2#1d10 will roll two d10s, 3#1d10 will roll 3, etc.
If you try to roll three dice by typing 3d10 it will total the results together, but with 3#1d10 all the results are listed separately so it's pretty straightforward. It's a generic dice roller that just works without trying to do any fancy nonsense.
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No-QuarterNothing To FearBut Fear ItselfRegistered Userregular
Feel free to show up any time before 8. I'd like to kick off about then, and carrying the game for about two hours.
My current plan is to have most of the dramatic plot elements unveil during the main two hours per week game, and then if people want to fart around via PMs and in the IC thread, we can have a little more subtle exposition there.
When you log on to the IRC server simply type /join #PAChangeling and you'll bet here with me and the trusty dice-bot.
To roll dice, you just use simple written commands.
1d10 will roll one die, 2#1d10 will roll two d10s, 3#1d10 will roll 3, etc.
If you try to roll three dice by typing 3d10 it will total the results together, but with 3#1d10 all the results are listed separately so it's pretty straightforward. It's a generic dice roller that just works without trying to do any fancy nonsense.
Everyone should also show up on aim. I'm just technically incompetent enough to foul this up.
Also, TS the hook is fine.
Woooooooooooooooooo! Someone's gettin' shot tonight! I want Jack to get to the point where he has different kinds of ammo like Hellboy. Silver bulletts, Magnesium Shots, and "cocktails" with holy water, silver, whtie oak shavings etc. Muahahahahaha!
I'm soooooo taking the Hellboy route as a supernatural hunter for the court.
You all can assume you are relatively familiar with the freehold, it's members, and it's location.
However, this may be the first time you've all seen each other (feel free to improvise amongst yourselves during play). You are free to decide this on the fly, or to connive amongst yourselves.
I'd like to start at eight and run for two hours. But if everyone arrives before we can have an early kickoff.
Each two hour play session will be relatively self-contained, so if someone doesn't show up, we can assume they just didn't show up IC. Might make things a little harder during actual play, if someone who would be handy in a situation isn't there, but it will make things easier from the perspective of game management.
No motley pledge has been made, so that might make things a little more interesting for the first run, but then again, a little worry, a little anxiety never hurt anything.
Feel free to ask questions, I'm going to be here all day fiddling with things. Writing up some poses for future sessions, etc.
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No-QuarterNothing To FearBut Fear ItselfRegistered Userregular
You all can assume you are relatively familiar with the freehold, it's members, and it's location.
However, this may be the first time you've all seen each other (feel free to improvise amongst yourselves during play). You are free to decide this on the fly, or to connive amongst yourselves.
I'd like to start at eight and run for two hours. But if everyone arrives before we can have an early kickoff.
Each two hour play session will be relatively self-contained, so if someone doesn't show up, we can assume they just didn't show up IC. Might make things a little harder during actual play, if someone who would be handy in a situation isn't there, but it will make things easier from the perspective of game management.
No motley pledge has been made, so that might make things a little more interesting for the first run, but then again, a little worry, a little anxiety never hurt anything.
Feel free to ask questions, I'm going to be here all day fiddling with things. Writing up some poses for future sessions, etc.
I don't know if this is what you already had planned, but I think being sent on a little self contained quest as a "temporary" Motley would be a good introduction to the game, using the chat, and start the characters off with a decent exp bonus before the "real game" starts. For example, I might use some bonus exp to buy a dot in Mentor, to reflect Jack's patron.
EDIT
And maybe put his Composure up a little. I'm still not entirely sure how to handle him. I don't want him being constantly in everyone's face, because that gets old FAST. If he does lose it he should simply become catatonic with fear and memories of his durance. The pranks are another thing. Do they too much and they get old. I was thinking of translating it into some wacky McGuyver-esque problem solving skills. I at first dismissed it, but common sense might be a good fit for Jack. He understands what needs to be accomplished in any given situation, but he arrives at the solution and solves the problem in his own unconventional way.
Posts
Character Sheet
Player: No-Quarter
Character: Jack Undergallows, aka Happy Jack, Smilin' Jack, Mad Jack, Jackie Grin, Jack O' Lantern etc
Concept: The Trick or Treat Hitman
Age: 24 (21 at age of abduction)
Seeming: Elemental- Jack is the Autumnal Incarnation of a tree and plant spirit.
Kith: WoodKind
Court: Autumn
Flaws: Addiction (Pranks), Behavior Blind
Attributes
Mental: Intelligence 3, Wits 3, Resolve 2
Social: Presence 3, Manipulation 2, Composure 1
Physical: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2
Skills:
Mental: Academics: 2, Crafts: 1, Investigation: 3, Medicine:1, Occult: 3 (Fear Magic), Politics: 1
Physical: Atheletics: 1, Brawl 1 (Dirty Fighting), Firearms 1 (Handguns), Stealth 2, Survival 1, Weaponry 1
Social: Expression: 1, Intimidation: 1 (Pranks), Persuasion: 1, Subterfuge: 1
Merits: Eidetic Memory: 2, Danger Sense: 2, Iron Stomach: 2, Natural Immunity: 1
Clarity: 6
Wyrd: 1
Willpower: 3
Virtue: Justice
Vice: Gluttony
Health: 7
Initiative: 4
Defense: 3
Speed: 10
Contracts
Fleeting Autumn: 2
Elemental: 1 Autumnal Plants
Smoke: 2
Shooter's Bargain: 1
Equipment: None, I was hoping TS could get me a pistol (preferably a revolver) so Jack could gun peoplez down!
Background/ Abduction
A naturally intelligent and bright learner, Jack excelled at academics and research. He excelled at memorization and observation skills, and could often glance at a page and take a mental snapshot of it to be field away for later. Given his wit, it's not surprising that Jack was always considered charming, if somewhat of a bastard given his propensity for playing pranks and practical jokes. Always apparent was his broad grin, his mother had called him Jack O' Lantern when he was a boy. Not settling simply for an excellent mind, Jack trained his body to a great degree. Favoring leanness over bulk, Jack is as taut is a whip, and is as fast as his mouth. (Which is really really fast). A silver tongue and a better bullshitter there never was, Jack was bound for great things.
One day while hiking on a flawless day in October, Jack became hopelessly lost in the forest. A natural survivor and a outdoorsman in addition to his other skills, Jack was at first baffled at how he could have become lost in a preservation he knew like the back of his hand. As the hours dragged on, this confusion led to uncertainty, which led to fear, which led to an outright unreasoning terror. Through glades and paths uncounted, Jack wandered. Despite his fear, Jack found himself entranced by the beauty of his surroundings. It was dusk, and the light made the colors of the changing leaves seem to....shift. Jack found himself in a waking contradiction of fear and wonder. Parts of him wanted to escape the woods, but another was touched by his surroundings. He continued on and seeking to make a short cut, took a side path that eventually led into a thick patch of thorns. Struggling on he entered a vastly differently looking part of the woods. There were pumpkins growing here, surprising, though not impossible given the season. They didn't seem....right though. Nothing did. Behind every shadow he could swear he saw faces leering at him, Strange lights danced at the edge of his vision. And the moon...when had the moon come up? Not only that, but when had it gotten so high. A blood red crescent hung in the sky, and suddenly he began to hear a voice...
A gorgeous bittersweet song that promised both warmth and cold, welcome and warning, joy and terror, beauty and madness. Upon entering a clearing he saw Her. Seated upon a a rock, she was was wreathed by the winds with a constantly changing cloak of leaves that swirled about her. Her skin was pale, and her lips a deep red. Wearing gossamer fabrics of darkened oranges, reds, greens, yellows, and browns, and blacks she was the most fantastic thing he had ever seen. Flowers and leaves were ruffled through her hair. Her eyes changed colors and were rimmed with a twinkle.
As he looked upon them, they sparkled in good humor and warmth, but there was a chill to her looks just beneath the surface. A cruelty to her perfect features. As he approached, she noticed him and beckoned him forward. Unable to resist a creature of such terrible and unearthly grace, Jack crept forward and embraced Her. Who knows how long she spoke to him. She told him her name, a name as old as the leaves and the trees. As he wept tears of joy while looking in the eyes of the "goddess" he had the supreme fortune of meeting, he swore he would be Hers. With a smile she accepted his offer, and then she changed. Her skin sank inward and wrinkled, and her visage of angled featuresandf beauty and perfection twisted into cruelty and horror. The Autumn had reaped it's bounty.
Durance/Escape/Mad Jack
At some point, perhaps in a moment of exquisite bliss or agony (or both) Jack woke up to his existence. Horrified beyond belief by what had happened to him, Jack fled the Eternal Autumnal Groves. Once his Mistress had learned of his escape, she turned her power toward capturing her wayward suitor. Her full power bent to the task, the true nightmares of the Autumnal Realm were set loose. Creatures dying, but never truly dead assailed Jack, and it was only through luck and skill that he managed to survive to make it to the Hedge. Once there Jack was hunted through the shadows by his Mistresses servants, until when he felt all hope was lost, Jack stumbled into the Real.
Hid mind ravaged by his capture, what emerged from the Hedge at first couldn't be considered a true consciousness. He lay on his back upon rain-slicked and muddy grass as a light rain licked at his features. His vision swam as the world he once knew flooded into his senses. As he stared up into the gray sky and the changing leaves above him, he noticed a large shape looming to his left. After so long in Faerie, Jack's sense had become acute to suffering, and the stench of death and fear hung from it. Fear he had been found by his mistress. His eyes swam back into focus and what he saw triggered a memory. Jack, I swear one day you're going to end up under the gallows, just like your damn name. Jack Undergallows. That was his name. The realization and the irony was too much for the overstimulated Jack to bear and he began to laugh. He hasn't stopped since.
Discovered shortly after by an Ogre of the Autumn Court, Jack was nursed back to health after his ordeal. His physical wounds healed in time, but the mental scars plunge much deeper. Constantly bombarded with contradicting stimuli of extreme mirth and horror, Jack no longer has the tools to properly tell the difference between what causes these stimuli by his own actions. That is, when dealing with others Jack often acts inappropriately (if not dangerously on occasion) in the guise of his pranks. He is capable of understanding which emotion is which, but often not which actions will trigger which stimuli. Therefore, sometimes Jack is unable to tell the difference between a harmless joke like a whoopy cushion, and one which is deadly serious- such as a white phosphorous pie to the face. Not only can Jack sometimes not be able to differentiate between harmless and deadly, he has become almost compulsive with his pranks. They keep his mind off of remembering, something which his mind apparently feels is of critical importance. Jack does have perfect mastery over observing the actions and consequences of other people however. He will often fly into a rage over observed injustices toward others. In this way, Jack has become useful to the Court. his friend and Mentor setting him up with "work" that would take advantage of his talents. Not remembering who he was besides his name, the Ogre promised Jack he would see to finding out his true identity. In return Jack would serve the court as an enforcer and assassin. A skilled fighter with a curiously skewed moral compass, the Court could use him to simply pick off their enemies. However, they have found him much more useful as a terror weapon. A weapon who's purpose is paranoia, and whose claws are long reaching.
He has since become known as the "Trick or Treat Hitman," and garnered a reputation as a brutal keeper of the peace in the freehold. Crime is rife in any city, but rather than prey on the populace, Jack hunts criminals to sate his appetite for fear. He finds their brand particularly flavorful as most are true cowards when confronted with someone more powerful than the civilians they are used to oppressing.
Although generally lucid, Jack is still unstable and though he is usually grinning, there are times the other half of his nature emerges, and this is a frightful thing indeed. He also prone to panic attacks and outbreaks of fear. He is genuinely trying to keep himself under control, and his mentor believe he has some friends he thinks would help him.
Despite his....problems, Jack become quite useful to the Court. The fear that such tales of him arouse, serves the Court well, and there are whispers that Jack will go far- if he can stop acting like such a nutter.
Appearance
His Mien portrays a much different visage. His clothes appear somewhat ruffled and threadbare, his hair slightly unkempt with bits of straw and leaves strewn throughout. Straw also pokes from his cuffs and neckline. Most disturbing of all, Jack's face takes on the eerie glow of a Jack O' Lantern. His eyes and mouth appear hollow despite a ghostly orange/yellow light that flickers brightly behind them. As he walks leaves fall out from the creases and cuffs of his clothes. He smells of freshly harvested fruit such as apples, sticks of cinnamon, and other autumnal goodies, but beneath it is a twinge of sickly sweet decay so common with the season. When he becomes enraged, his darker aspect emerges, his skin shrivels, his grin becomes hideous, and his eyes burn with angry balefire.
WOW that took awhile. I hope that's good I'm not proofreading it.
Lotsafun.
I so want it to be thursday!
Your sheet is fine. Starting with a revolver is fine.
I just finished a workout so I'm a little woozy, but I'll be reading this and then edit in my responses (and then PM you with a hook).
Your background is fine. I can certainly work with it. Reviewing it, I don't see any issue. You may want to create a little more background about your NPC buddy (keep in mind that without taking dots in Allies or Mentors he rightfully can't come into play very often). He could probably have a little tie in with the primary freehold of the chronicle. I'll fire off a hook later tonight.
Turning this into a general update:
Still waiting for Powerslave to respond to the hook. No rush but, well, things do kick off tomorrow.
Some general info.
The IRC server will be at www.neverwinterconnections.com
The room will probably be something like #PAChangeling or what have you. Please put [PA] before your name. The room MAY be passworded, if so, it'll be the PA standard (wang). Remember we'll be starting at 8 PM EST.
Meet your Freehold:
Nickname: Cyclists
A small freehold hidden under the facade of a neighborhood strip of little townhouses and a nightclub (The Masked Sorrow, "The Mask") across the street. Tunnels connect the basements of the homes and the nightclub.
The Cycle has lost contact with allied freeholds recently. The dedicated runnerswift cheetah-boy courier has gone missing as well (substituted by the windwing butterfly-girl scout).
It's ruled by the eldest Autumn Court member (fitting with the season) of the freehold, a bright one, who also owns the properties it sits on.
This isn't the type of nightclub where you go to dry hump sweaty strangers to crappy electronica. No. This is one of those upscale kind of things. Somber lighting, dining and drinks, and live music (mostly jazz and blues) are what people come for. Not quite black tie but blue jeans are verboten.
Of course, there's a "VIP" entrance in the back, where "special guests" can "take off their masques" and let their hair down without worrying about putting up appearances. Strangely, very few of the regulars are ever extended membership. It's a very exclusive section of the club...
The freehold as an organization gets it's name from the fact that it has always been respectful of the Seasonal Court traditions. For many, many years, it has seen a smooth and amiable transition from Seasonal Ruler to Seasonal Ruler.
A minor scandal has been whispered through the less noticeable members of the freehold in recent days. The Autumnal Lady has ascended the throne weeks earlier than she should have, at the behest of the Twin Kings of Summer. Rumors fly, but none seem to cling for long, ephemeral and weak without any evidence for backing.
Freehold NPCs:
Miranda (The Light):
Bright One, Autumn Court
Tall, beautiful, radiant, swan-like. It can be hard to look at her directly, with her skin of glowing sun and hair a prismatic glory.
Miranda is a powerful force of personality and of finance. She owns several properties around the city, most of them residential, but a few commercial. Though unable to enforce her will physically, the sheer presence and intensity of her personality and appearance often makes it hard for others to disagree.
It also helps that she won the lottery about a decade back and managed her wealth wisely.
She relinquishes rulership of the freehold outside of the season of Autumn, but even when the current ruler is sitting, they often go to her for advice out of respect for her and an acknowledgement of her wisdom. She has cultivated a safe haven with a granite foundation, earning her much respect among the changeling community.
However, her hospitality towards escapees and unfortunates has earned her many enemies among the privateers and loyalists. Recent months have seen her slowly draw away from changeling society, even as she strives to provide fellow changelings with safety and surety in their uncertain lives.
Sylphi and Silphy (The Sisters):
Airtouched, Spring Court
Their long white hair seems to flow freely as if always toyed with by a breeze, even when indoors. Their lips and fingernails are blue. A sharp, cutting blue, not a cold, chilling blue. Their skin is a slightly greyish shade of white, clear and smooth. Eyes a solid, energetic white, tickling with electricity when they're caught in the grip of powerful emotions. As their seeming implies, they are slight of build, but of elegant grace and a willowy height.
Totally identical. They often complete sentences for each other. They tend to dress in the same whispy, ephemeral clothing and deliberately refuse to identify themselves with their old human names. Something that can be a source of tension among freehold members.
Capricious and flighty, they have a witty sense of humor that can be cruel at times. Speaking out and laughing with carefree, spritely voices whenever it's appropriate. And sometimes when it is very inappropriate.
Assists Miranda in managing various properties she owns throughout the city.
Nitara (Wings):
Windwing, Winter Court
A young, impish thing with multifaceted eyes, colorful, speckled skin and long, curled eyebrows of deep, royal purple that matches her short, wild mane of hair. She's a little silp of a girl, barely five feet tall, hardly any weight to her. She dresses in charming little celtic-styled clothes that she makes herself. She favors short-sleeved shirts and capri pants. When she has to wear a jacket, she pulls on one of those zip-up hoodies with handwarmer pockets, they seem to change color every day, who knows how many she has... Has a satchel covered in buttons and patches which she treats with almost religious reverence. Absolutely hates wearing shoes. When she needs to, she has a pair of ratty old 70s-style converse that she slips on.
Pulls double duty (with no complaints, she even volunteered) as both street-scout and courier for the freehold. Despite her small and child-like appearance, she's in her early 20s. Stunted by her time in the Fae. She talks exceedingly fast and can be difficult to understand at times. It's as if a pile of words trapped in her brain pound against the door of her mouth, all pouring out at once when she opens it.
It's no small cause for concern when she's out combing the streets and keeping her ear to the ground for changeling-specific information, she's small and fragile. But she's been able to do her job with success so far, and with no broken bones, lost teeth or knife wounds...
Amin and Tariq (The "Brothers"):
Summer Court
Unrelated men of arabic descent who shared a resemblance in their lives prior to being snatched through the Hedge. They dress in a similar style, casual-professional wear, slacks and dress shoes, dark, solid color button ups but with no ties. They cultivate a well-groomed appearance so as not to stand out when working The Mask and because, hey, it makes them feel a little more human. They aren't shy about that fact.
They now serve as bouncers at The Mask (though why a relatively exclusive club in a gentrified neighborhood would need bouncers is always a topic of curious discussion among new patrons) and also take it upon themselves to preserve the safety of the entire freehold. They are very large and muscular, darkly handsome despite their miens and all around great guys who you would probably like to have a beer with if you knew them in real life. Seriously they are p. cool and always seem to have a quick, disarming wit that bears no malice and are free with compliments. One time I was out in Manhattan and I got a flat and when I called into the hold to see if anyone else was around to help me out, and no one was, they both came out and made sure I got outta privateer country with no pieces missing. No questions asked no favors owed. Solid dudes and extremely cool like I said.
Just don't make them angry because they will rip your head off man I am not even joking. You should have seen that privateer... what was his name? Alphonso "the Snake" Peterson? Yeah man, the cops found his head and some of his neck in a basketball hoop with the net tied shut. All covered in flies and rotting in the summer sun.
Still, cool guys.
Amin:
Broadback
Powerfully built, with a dark, caramel skin and thick, black hair that grows like a carpet over his chest and arms. His hair is curly and wild, there's a slight hint of extension to his canines and his hands end in powerful claws. He keeps his beard shaven, but if allowed to grow, it gives him a much more primal, animalistic look, growing short and thick like the fur over a bear's muzzle.
Tariq:
Stonebones
Just as powerfully built, and with a dark umber skintone. His body seems to be made of pure rock, but no type native to earth. More of an archetype or characature of a rock than a specific kind of stone. Unlike his partner, he has lost all body hair, and even the hair on his head and face. Though thankfully, his Mask gives him a nice full head for all the ladies to swoon over.
"Jiffy" Jeffy:
Runnerswift (cheetah), Courtless
Not many people want to talk about him since he went missing. Asking about him tends to get a rebuking look and, if persistent, rebuffing chastisement.
His disappearance makes people nervous. Most anyone will say (and just to inform the new folks) is that he was a damn good courier, fast as hell but skittish and neurotic. He had a bad time in the Fae and no one likes to be reminded of their bad time in the Fae, and that's what asking about anyone's time in the Fae does. It reminds everyone about their time in the Fae.
Probably best to leave it at that.
"Syn/Ack":
Wizened, Courtless
The weird kid. "That Guy." "Him."
Whatever you want to call him, this kid is off. Just plain off. Stammering, stuttering, jittering. Talking to himself. He's out there.
His body seems pulled, as he it were a child stretched like taffy to a man's proportions. Impossibly thin and gaunt. He's always wearing some kind of baggy clothing to hide it, too. Sweaters, hoodies, baggy jeans that are way out of fashion, even in punk circles. But that doesn't matter so much, he never really leaves the underground complex.
Ever.
His skin has that classic shut-in fluorescent tan (that is, pale, nearly translucent white), and when he isn't covering his head with a hood, hat or just his hands (you know, when he has a panic attack or a nervous breakdown), his shaggy, greasy black hair is there for all to see. Though occasionally he borrows someone's clippers and trims it to stubble.
His face seems to be frozen in an expression stuck between pained and fearful, as if he's haunted by his own memories all day long. Though vaguely human, his eyes can look in different directions at once (and they often do, even in conversation), like a chameleon, which is useful because he spends all his waking life staring at a bank of computer monitors and typing away at various keyboards.
Created a custom instant messaging service for the freehold, runs on Windows, OS X and most linux distros. He also maintains a private intranet between The Mask and the properties owned by Miranda.
Probably autistic, but can hold a mockery of a conversation.
Consider this IC information that you could find out after being introduced to the freehold itself. There are more members than presented here, these are just the only ones that are truly important. Feel free to create a "friend" for yourself if you want. We'll just assume they're another freehold NPC. Think of the NPCs presented here as the supporting cast.
Feel free to ask any questions about things you may be wondering. Such as, "What would my character find out if I asked this question?" etc.
The basic plot is hinted at here, but don't expect any of the cards to fall until actual play starts.
I wanted to take a mentor dot and plan on it soon. We could have him at the beginning and give Jack a good pep talk and some stuff before going away on business. I would also like to a bit more in depth of Jack's mindset as an assassin and how his ideas of right and wrong come into play.
Looking forward to tonight!
What time is everyone expected online? Is there anything you would like for us to have prepared, TS? Should we have the books on hand or anything else?
My current plan is to have most of the dramatic plot elements unveil during the main two hours per week game, and then if people want to fart around via PMs and in the IC thread, we can have a little more subtle exposition there.
When you log on to the IRC server simply type /join #PAChangeling and you'll bet here with me and the trusty dice-bot.
To roll dice, you just use simple written commands.
1d10 will roll one die, 2#1d10 will roll two d10s, 3#1d10 will roll 3, etc.
If you try to roll three dice by typing 3d10 it will total the results together, but with 3#1d10 all the results are listed separately so it's pretty straightforward. It's a generic dice roller that just works without trying to do any fancy nonsense.
Everyone should also show up on aim. I'm just technically incompetent enough to foul this up.
Also, TS the hook is fine.
Woooooooooooooooooo! Someone's gettin' shot tonight! I want Jack to get to the point where he has different kinds of ammo like Hellboy. Silver bulletts, Magnesium Shots, and "cocktails" with holy water, silver, whtie oak shavings etc. Muahahahahaha!
I'm soooooo taking the Hellboy route as a supernatural hunter for the court.
You all can assume you are relatively familiar with the freehold, it's members, and it's location.
However, this may be the first time you've all seen each other (feel free to improvise amongst yourselves during play). You are free to decide this on the fly, or to connive amongst yourselves.
I'd like to start at eight and run for two hours. But if everyone arrives before we can have an early kickoff.
Each two hour play session will be relatively self-contained, so if someone doesn't show up, we can assume they just didn't show up IC. Might make things a little harder during actual play, if someone who would be handy in a situation isn't there, but it will make things easier from the perspective of game management.
No motley pledge has been made, so that might make things a little more interesting for the first run, but then again, a little worry, a little anxiety never hurt anything.
Feel free to ask questions, I'm going to be here all day fiddling with things. Writing up some poses for future sessions, etc.
I don't know if this is what you already had planned, but I think being sent on a little self contained quest as a "temporary" Motley would be a good introduction to the game, using the chat, and start the characters off with a decent exp bonus before the "real game" starts. For example, I might use some bonus exp to buy a dot in Mentor, to reflect Jack's patron.
EDIT
And maybe put his Composure up a little. I'm still not entirely sure how to handle him. I don't want him being constantly in everyone's face, because that gets old FAST. If he does lose it he should simply become catatonic with fear and memories of his durance. The pranks are another thing. Do they too much and they get old. I was thinking of translating it into some wacky McGuyver-esque problem solving skills. I at first dismissed it, but common sense might be a good fit for Jack. He understands what needs to be accomplished in any given situation, but he arrives at the solution and solves the problem in his own unconventional way.
I'm trying both the on site Java chat and trillian. Getting results from neither, unless I'm doing something wrong.
It's irc.neverwinterconnections.com
Try that.
I might be fashionably late.
no problem, I'll just take your xp then. :P