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[Changeling: The Lost OOC] Six by Six: Looking for: Showers!
Rainfall
Registered User regular
Registered User regular
I keep six honest serving-men
(They taught me all I knew);
Their names are What and Why and When
And How and Where and Who.
I send them over land and sea,
I send them east and west;
But after they have worked for me,
I give them all a rest.
I let them rest from nine till five,
For I am busy then,
As well as breakfast, lunch, and tea,
For they are hungry men.
But different folk have different views;
I know a person small—
She keeps ten million serving-men,
Who get no rest at all!
She sends'em abroad on her own affairs,
From the second she opens her eyes—
One million Hows, two million Wheres,
And seven million Whys!
Rainfall Presents
Changeling: The Lost
Six by Six
(They taught me all I knew);
Their names are What and Why and When
And How and Where and Who.
I send them over land and sea,
I send them east and west;
But after they have worked for me,
I give them all a rest.
I let them rest from nine till five,
For I am busy then,
As well as breakfast, lunch, and tea,
For they are hungry men.
But different folk have different views;
I know a person small—
She keeps ten million serving-men,
Who get no rest at all!
She sends'em abroad on her own affairs,
From the second she opens her eyes—
One million Hows, two million Wheres,
And seven million Whys!
Rainfall Presents
Changeling: The Lost
Six by Six
Before it all started, you were a normal citizen of Miami. You had a life, a home, a job, friends, family, hobbies. Everything changed, one fateful night. You said the wrong thing, took the wrong route home, got off the bus at the wrong stop, or just got unlucky.
They took you. They put you to work, serving them. Maybe it was just rough labour, maybe they let you live a life of pleasure as one of their happier servants, or perhaps they turned you into a candelabra or a statue. It didn't really matter to them what you had to endure, how it broke your body, your mind... but never your will.
You got out. It may have taken years, but you struggled free, fought back, and escaped. The thorns of the impassable Hedge tore at your mind and body as you crawled through, pushing past obstacles where others had fallen. A fierce determination brought you out.
But that's not the story that we're going to tell. The story we're telling is what happened after you got out. The moment you stepped into the real world is where it all begins.
This is a Changeling: The Lost campaign. It's serious. It's going to be pretty dark, it's going to deal with mature themes, and contain mature language, content, and actions. It's not for the squeamish, I'm in the mood for something dim, grungy, and nasty. It's about survivng pain, horror, and suffering more than anything we in this world can imagine.
It's about a World of Darkness. This shit's getting real.
I'm looking for around four players, I might go to five if I really like a lot of submissions. I want a character with a very fleshed out pre-Faerie life. Friends, family, etc. You're free to describe your Keeper and your Durance, but you should keep it from being over-detailed, I want to be able to throw a few curveballs at you guys.
None of you remember exactly how you escaped. There's maybe a few details, a knife in the Keeper's eye, a flight from a pack of barking dogs, and similar. Nobody has a clear picture of their time in the Fae's clutches. The themes of this campaign are fear and paranoia. You don't know what happened for sure, you don't know if you can trust anyone, even yourself. All you know is that the Keepers are real, and scary as fuck.
Most importantly, you can't take any Merits that involve real-world connections. You can't have a Hollow, or Mantle, or anything else that requires knowing people or places. You can have ONE dot of Token. You don't have any physical possessions unless you do, at most, all you have is a few tattered pieces of clothing.
You DO get your full 7 Merit dots regardless, and you'll be starting at Wyrd 2 by default(no buying it up to 3, though!.) Remember that you start with half of your glamour pool, it doesn't start full. Finally, no buying down your Clarity for XP. If you're falling to bits, that's going to happen in-play.
This game is, as said above, being set in Miami. It's mostly the default setting that's in the back of Lost, although I'll be tossing a few curveballs in to keep myself pleased and feeling original. Nonetheless, please keep your noses out of the back of the book during play, I don't much approve of metagaming. Also note that we're literally starting the second you guys break free of the Hedge on your escape.
I'd like motivated characters who are going after their own goals. Don't create a goal that's obviously going to split you off from the other players, but having a strong desire to get something done is a great way for me to keep things going based on player interaction.
If you've got any other questions, give me a shout, you can reach me via gtalk or email, tempestwing AT gmail DOT com. Can't wait to see what shows up!
Rainfall on
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edit: Also what about courts?
Been itching for a chance to play in a wod game.
The game is literally starting the moment you step out of the Hedge. You don't have a Court, you don't know what's up with your Fetch, you don't know shit.
If you do have an idea/situation with a Fetch that you really want to explore, feel free to toss me a PM with what you're thinking, and I'll give the idea a lot of favor in my planning, but I offer no guarantees or control over specifics.
Jam Warrior, the Changeling: The Lost book will set you up nicely, assuming you're familiar with the World of Darkness mechanics already. If you don't have that, you'll need the World of Darkness core book as well.
Vincenzo Rodrigo, Darkling, Tunnelgrub, 80's Gangster
Stuff isn't finished yet, but I'm slowly working on it.
The night the Faeries took Vince, he had just returned from a night of partying, drinking, and a good time with a few women whose names he forgot before they told him. He sat down on his couch and turned on the TV. The news was on but only poor, worthless people needed to care about the news. He made himself a couple lines of cocaine before he would pass out to the dawn light.
Except morning light never came. What happen to Vince he still has no idea about, but he remembers darkness. He remembers what fell like years of endless darkness and never being able to sleep. He was forced to dig. Because digging was breathing and if you stop digging you stop breathing. Escaping that darkness was the only joy he remembers from that time. But what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. And now Vincenzo finds himself back to being nothing. The world has changed. His life has changed. The game has changed. He has changed. But Greed never changes.
Personality
An interesting character! I'm not sure that I like the character with no personal ties etc, but if you're planning on playing to your greed, then there is a lot of stuff I can do to torment him. You're on the short-list.
Well, who knows what his Fetch has done since he was gone. He could be Public Enemy Number 1.
'Rivs, Lynx, Jam, you guys got anything for me?
I wish I read CF more often or Sami/someone told me about a Changeling game sooner.
// Switch: SW-5306-0651-6424 //
Marissa Kennedy had it made. Daughter to a celebrated orthodonist and a city socialite, she attended the prestigious Point West private high school. At Point West, she showed a good deal of promise - As in all her ninth-grade classes, assistant captaincy on the gymnastics team and cheerleading squads, and she had begun dating the backup quarterback, Matt Greene. Teachers and parents compared her to her older sister Mary, now doing pre-med at Princeton: another child from a family stuffed with overachievers. In other words, Marissa was living the American teenager's dream.
Until one night it all went wrong. While walking home with Matt, the couple were beset by some mysterious thing that launched itself from the shadows of a copse of trees. It knocked Matt out in its first pounce, then forced Marissa to the ground as she ran screaming. She looked at it in terror, expecting a misshapen rapist or worse, only to find her attacker was a slim, pale, elfin man, with perfect skin and a face that shone in the moonlight like a star.
He kissed her, and Marissa's world melted away. She vaguely remembers being dragged or carried through the Hedge, thorns tearing at her new coat and dress, a shoe slipping off on a branch. Her next clear memory is of a white room that stretched on for farther than she could see, of being encircled by a glass dome bearing only an ancient, brocade dress, a small platform, and a metal pole. Naked, she clutched the dress to herself, to find herself sleeping around the pole - a doll stand, as it turned out. She was kept on display for what seemed an eternity, occasionally waking up naked with a new dress, catsuit, or bundle of sticks to wear. When she could, she passed the time by practicing her gymnastics.
Very rarely did she see others - party crowds wearing masks, people of unmistakable beauty milling around her dome-cage. She never saw the man who kissed her, who brought her to this beautiful hell again. She remembers occasionally being taken out of her dome and cruelly experimented on - her face sliced away, metal staves pushed under her skin. She thinks she woke up once with scrap-metal wings sown to her bones. Now, when she feels her body, she believes she can feel hollows and cuts that were never there before - little slices of her, taken away.
Some time later, she found the dome broken, smashed atop and a trail of glass leading beyond. She climbed up the dome, slicing her hands and feet open in her escape, leaving a blood-trail behind her. She followed the glass to a corner in the endless, circular room of white, and passed through a hidden door there to the Hedge once again. She traveled its ways for days, never sleeping but always searching for the way forward. Eventually she came to one of her shoes - once beautiful, soft velvet, now torn and dirty. She pulled it from the tree, clutching it to her chest, and ran without looking, her fey garb falling to bits around her. Eventually, she stopped, unable to go any further. Feeling cold on her bare skin, she opened her eyes - to find herself standing on the same sidewalk she was taken from, next to the copse of trees. A copy of the Herald was borne to her as if on a gust, its date four years to the day from when she was taken.
Appearance: The years Marissa spent growing up in Arcadia changed her greatly, as they do all Fairest. She was a beautiful young girl when she was taken, but now she is magnificent. Whatever happened, it sharpened her beauty into something truly magnificent - and yet terrifying. At a distance or in a photograph she looks attractive, with a fine face and thin, athletic body, but closer she is unsettling, almost to the point of overcoming her beauty. Her muscles are continually tense, as if she might run at any moment, and her eyes dart to their corners, continually on watch for dangers.
Her fae mien is predicated on unusual beauty: when she stands still, she seems to go rigid, then transparent, almost as if made out of glass. However, when she moves, her body blurs in the air, leaving trails and echoes in a riot of colours. Either of these forms is achingly beautiful - yet also filled with imperfection, a deep knowledge of weakness and frailty.
Mentality: Marissa fears the True Fae. She is terrified of being dragged back through the hedge, of having her freedoms taken away and being constructed for someone's amusement again. To her, Arcadia was a beautiful place that almost drove her insane, without reason or rhyme.
She needs human contact. She has been so alone, for so long, and craves contact, affection, attention. Yet, her fears hold her back - she is terrified that what she has might be taken away from her, that she may be violated again in some way. Due to her beauty, others are drawn to her, but she is cold and slow to respond.
She wants her life back. Thinking of her family kept her sane, and she is angry at the forces that took her for the time they stole from her. She was driven to excel, and her mind is filled with anything from gymnastics awards to valedictorian to prom queen that she never had the chance to claim for herself.
Marissa Kennedy
Seeming: Fairest
Kith: Dancer
Attributes: Intelligence 2, Wits 2, Resolve 2, Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2, Presence 3, Manipulation 2, Composure 3
Mental Skills: Academics 2, Medicine 1, Science 1
Physical Skills: Athletics (Acrobatics) 3, Brawl 1, Larceny 1, Stealth 1, Weaponry 1
Social Skills: Empathy (Emotion) 3, Expression 1, Persuasion 2, Socialize (High School) 3, Subterfuge 2
Defense: 2
Health: 7
Intiative: 6
Clarity: 7
Wyrd: 2
Size: 5
Speed: 10
Willpower: 5
Glamour: 5/11 (1)
Virtue: Fortitude
Vice: Wrath
Merits: Striking Looks 4, Token 1, Fast Reflexes 2
Contracts: Hearth 1, Mirror 2, Vainglory 2
Equipment: Torn Silk Dress, Tattered Shoe.
Can flesh out more stuff like appearance and whatnot if you find the concept interesting.
Now, he finds himself back in Miami with no clue why he’s returned. Everything from his abduction to his arrival here is only vague recollections at best. Looking behind him at the thorns and brambles that fill the path he just came from, he marvels that his clothes are still intact. Considering it, he seems to recall having been wearing the same outfit for a very, very long time. Needless to say, his faith has been rocked to the core. He still believes in a power greater than man, but he can’t shoehorn his experience into the Christian worldview he so vigorously defended. He realizes that he can’t hide from the truth that many of those myths and legends he was so glibly able to explain away in the past were actually real events. Looking at what he has become, and what he can remember doing while in Arcadia, he realizes he’s no longer even human and can do things no one should be able to do. He mourns the loss of his humanity and fears that he’ll never be able to rejoin the ranks of the true believers. Not after everything he’s seen and done. What he can remember of it.
What do you do once you realize thou shalt not suffer yourself to live?
Char sheet
I'll have something up either tonight or tomorrow. Winter Quarter started a couple of says ago so I was a little busy.
For the sake of completion, here's the sub I gave Rainfall this past weekend (except the parts you guys don't get to see!):
I do remember bits and pieces. Mostly the bad parts, and almost none of the good ones. I was a... detective? Private investigator? Something like that; I know I was really good at finding information. "When you need to know, call Nick the Nose." Figures I'd remember that, of all things. Nick... that's pretty much all I've got now: my first name, and a few other random scraps. There used to be more... For instance, I've got a wedding band on my finger, so I must have a wife out there somewhere. In my dreams I sometimes see a short woman with dirty blond hair and glasses. Maybe that's her. A-something. Alison? Ashley? Amy? Damn it!
There are other faces rattling around inside my head. Young ones. Girls... daughters? Can't be more than four or five years old, or weren't the last time I saw them. It... it was just before their birthday. Wait, "their" birthday? Twins? Holy shit, I have twin daughters? Or maybe nieces, fucked if I know. Not identical though... one has what I guess is her mom's sandy hair, but the other's clearly a raven brunette. Maybe that might have been my color, but I can't check that now.
Yeah... their birthday. I remember this, for some reason. I remember that whole day, more or less. Like it's tormenting me. I was... looking for presents. I don't remember how, but I found out about this awesome little curiosity shop. I don't remember its name now. I do remember that it didn't have a website, because that was one of the oddest things I've ever heard in my life, especially these days. Those days. Whatever. I managed to track down an address, somehow, and I went looking for it, somewhere in a forgotten part of the city. Forgotten...
Bottom line is that I must have got lost in some side-streets and alleyways trying to find the fucking place. Things started getting strange, like a dream. I passed by some homeless guys, drunk and sleeping up against a condemned building. One of them stood up and grabbed my shoulder. I thought he was going to ask for change, but he never said anything. I turned around to brush him off, but caught a good luck at his eyes. Or where his eyes should have been, if he had a face. I stood there slack-jawed for a second, long enough for him to do... something... and the next thing I know, I wake up in hell.
It was like a fun house, but decidedly without the fun. Mirrors everywhere. I have no idea how long I was there, or why. I only remember two things about that hellhole: seeing my own face everywhere I turned, and never seeing the face of the fucker who kept me there. Because he (she? it?) didn't have one. Just another mirror, wrapped in robes shaped like a man.
I don't have to tell you that I didn't want to be there. But in a world of mirrors, there's nowhere to hide. Well... I found a way to hide in plain sight. You can see that for yourself, sort of. What I've got... it's not invisibility, but more... hiding from the light itself. I didn't learn until it was too late that my new talents came with a price. I wasn't just losing myself in the shadows.
I was losing myself, period.
Memories. That's all we really are, when it comes down to it. As I became less "there", I recalled less. At first it was small things, like passing acquaintances or people I haven't seen in over a decade. But it spread, like fucking wood rot. I lost places, dates, faces... names. When I realized that I couldn't remember the names of the people I cared about the most... that's when I snapped.
I remember rage.
I remember shattering glass.
I remember running.
And, in the ultimate irony... I remember that I've forgotten.
"When you need to know, call Nick the Nose." But who does Nick the Nose call when he needs to know? Because I need to know, and I'm going to do whatever I can to find out.
Seeming: Darkling; Kith: Palewraith (Winter Masques p72)
Int 2 -- Str 1 -- Pres 1
Wits 3 -- Dex 2 -- Manip 3
Res 3 -- Stam 3 -- Comp 3
Academics (Research specialty) 3
Computer 3
Investigation (Puzzles specialty) 3
Politics 1
Science 1
Athletics 2
Firearms 1
Larceny 1
Stealth (Hiding specialty; 9 again) 3
Intimidation 1
Persuasion 1
Subterfuge (Lie Detection specialty) 2
Merits:
Meditative Mind 1
Iron Stamina 3
Eidetic Memory (except for what he's lost, obviously) 2
Natural Immunity 1
Flaw: Amnesia*
Contracts:
Smoke 3
Darkness 2
Health 8
Willpower 6
Glamour 6
Wyrd 2
Clarity 7
Seeming Blessing Can spend one Glamour for +1 on Wits/Subterfuge/Stealth rolls
Light's Aversion Can spend one Glamour for +1 Defense when in suitable shadows
Seeming Curse -1 to all Contracts during daylight; -2 if the sun is directly visible
Size 5
Defense 2
Init Mod 5
Speed 8
*This wasn't actually on the original submission, but it certainly applies.
Sadly, there's some overlap between mine and skarsol's.
Bah, I thought it seemed expensive but I was okay with it as I was already struggling for things to spend those points on. :P Updated my char sheet accordingly.
Wizened, Drudge
Character Sheet
Background:
Everything changed after that. Sure, he was married, but he was planning on leaving that old shrew anyways. Going up to his room was the only break in her routine she ever got. He gave her beautiful things. Her most treasured possession was a little silver bracelet covered in horseshoes. For luck. Suddenly, the days went by easier and the whole world seemed to be a little brighter. Time flew by and for once she was happy.
Taken:
Escape:
"Mice are to not to be seen or heard, little thing."
"After everything I do for you, this is how you repay me? This hurts me much more than it hurts you..."
All Daphne remember about her stay in Arcadia is endless work. Work that made her previous life seem like a paradise. Cleaning a mansion with a seemingly endless number of rooms, resewing a suit made out of spider silk, and cooking meals for banquets that may or may not have existed. If the slightest object was out of place, the tiniest amount of dust left behind, or if she made the floor boards creak even the slightest she was whipped and beaten into unconsciousness. And heaven help her if she left a blood stain on the floor.
She cannot recall how or why she remembered, but somehow Marcus' face came back to her over worked mind. With that tiny image her whole life started to come back to her. It may have not been perfect, but it was far far better than this. With a delicate hand, she began to put her plan into motion. The dinner that night tortured her keepers stomach, when it came to confront Daphne every door seemed to jam under its hands. The heel fell off of its shoe, making it stumble, and the floor was waxed so heavily that it was like trying to walk across of a plane of ice. Her keeper's screams of frustration as its entire house seemed to turn against it fueled the fire in Daphne's legs as she ducked through a hole into the hedge.
Well, I do believe that this was a productive sick day. Sorry if anything is typo-ed, I am still pretty woozy. When I get a little more energy I will throw together a description of what she looks like.
Lemme know if I made any errors and what you think!