[NWoD] (OOC) Rhapsody

DJP3710DJP3710 Registered User regular
edited April 2011 in Critical Failures
A Nightmare Realized...
It’s the same dream you’ve had for the last few weeks; the sort of thing quick to be forgotten upon awakening, yet even quicker to return in vivid detail upon returning to sleep. A world without color, a mosaic nightmare composed entirely of black pieces. Every time you dream of this place, another terrible detail stands out: each consecutive return further sharpens the definition of the picture, somehow allowing you to categorize “shades” of black into relatable shapes and sensations.

Ink-black waves crash upon the equally dark rocks, sending a fine spray of freezing oily water against your cheek. A foul wind blows across the beach’s black sands, filling your nose with the stench of bloodshed and ashes. Strange, hideous shades flap by in the distance overhead, screeching monstrosities that vaguely bring seagulls to mind. Before you is the ocean, a horizon-stretching abyss from within swims the vaguest shapes of unfulfilled horrors, things never meant to exist.

Why do you keep finding yourself here, again and again?

A good question.

The “voice” brushes past, a shadow amongst shadows, barely perceptible, more a sensation than anything vocal.

Why are you all here?

You look around and realize you’re not alone: there are other people here. Each of them, just like you, stand out as beacons of color in a world composed of nothing but black.

Thunder crashes in the distance, the endless dark depths roiling at the approaching storm clouds. They’re coming for you, and their desire cannot be dissuaded; they will have you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. A wall of hands, taller than the sky and enveloping the nightmarish earth, races across the oceanscape, grasping and feeling in their frantic desire.

As you wake up, drenched in cold sweat, one last whisper lingers, a final remnant of that nightmare:

They’ve found their way.


So, what’s this?
This is a game I’m organizing, using White Wolf’s Storytelling system at its core. The players take on the roles of people living in or around Atlas City, either as residents or visitors. Over the course of the game, they’ll face the mysterious horrors that have recently plagued their dreams.

What’ll I need to run this?
You’ll need access to the new World of Darkness core rulebook. If you don’t have it, I’ve written up a character creation guide here.

The Setting
Established in the 1970s, Atlas City is located in a mountain-region of the Midwestern United States. Considered by most to be a very prosperous and peaceful city, Atlas enjoys a strange harmony of civilization and nature: multi-story offices buildings right across the street from trails that lead into the surrounding countryside.

Details concerning character creation
As previously mentioned, all submitted characters have to either be residents of Atlas City or visitors; if a visitor, they need to have a reason to be staying in the city for at least a few months. Other than that, they can be pretty much anyone. You can make them as complex or as simple as you want, as realistic or as over-the-top as you’d like: an ex-navy seal that killed over a hundred guys in his career and a soccer mom with two kids are equally welcome. The only constant all the characters share are the dreams of the blackness, though whether they even remember these terrible nightmares or are affected by them are up to you.

While I will still be open to submissions, the starting group has been decided upon.

Celia Mark (El Skid)
Hank Walker (Horseshoe) Correction: Your skill spread is 12/6/4, not 11/7/4. Also, you've got one too many skill specializations.
Aedan Sonnen (Egos) Correction: Skill spread is 12/7/4. Also, you didn't choose any skill specializations.
Jeremy Silver (Void Slayer)
Drew Kristoph (Kay)

To other interested players, feel free to post your potential characters here. I'm by no means done recruiting.

DJP3710 on
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Posts

  • EgosEgos Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Like the sound of this. Is this gonna rather grounded horror (e.g. Stir of Echoes) or is it potentially gonna go into pretty surreal places (e.g. more realistic/darker Persona)?

    Egos on
  • DJP3710DJP3710 Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Would "It's a surprise" be an acceptable answer?

    DJP3710 on
  • EgosEgos Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Yeah thats fine :mrgreen:

    Egos on
  • SnowdownSnowdown Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    I havn't played nWoD before, so I'd be new to the game/system (if it's changed) but I love horror games/WoD.

    So the setting is Atlas City, what's the time period? present day?

    Snowdown on
  • Owen EdwardsOwen Edwards Registered User
    edited September 2010
    Blue dotted. I'll stat up a character today/tomorrow.

    Owen Edwards on
  • El SkidEl Skid The frozen white northRegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    I'll put a character forward- never been in a successful NWoD game, but I'd like to try it out.

    Name: Celia Mark
    Age: 48
    Gender: Female

    Stats:

    Int: •
    wits: ••••
    Resolve: ••

    Strength: ••
    Dexterity: ••••
    Stamina: ••

    Presence: •
    Manipulation: •
    Composure: ••••

    Defence: 4
    Size: 5
    Health: 7
    Initiative: 8
    Morality: 7
    Speed: 11
    Willpower: 6

    Virtues & Vices:

    TBD

    Skills:

    Investigation: •••
    Occult (Cultural Beliefs): •••
    Medicine: •

    Athletics (Throwing): ••
    Brawl (Kung Fu): ••••
    Stealth: ••
    Weaponry: •••

    Empathy: ••
    Persuasion: ••

    Merits:

    Fighting Style- Kung Fu: ••••
    Disarm: ••
    Fighting Style- Two Weapons: •


    Background:
    Celia Mark is a third-generation Chinese American. At nearly 50 years of age, Celia makes her way teaching at Atlas city's own Shen's Dojo, as well as teaching Women's self defence classes at the West End Community Center.

    Physically, she appears to be a homely looking woman of middle age with very short black hair. It's obvious she has taken good care of her body- by no means muscular, she is nevertheless shapely and lithe. Her wardrobe is simple, with a definite eye towards ease of movement and comfort- she is protective of her well being, and is always ready to defend herself on her frequent walks outside alone at night.

    Outside of martial arts, Celia's only other passion is for the occult, and she has collected a few baubles and knicknacks over the years- A scroll written in Mandarin, a couple of beaded neclaces and some figurines. Each of these she has searched for and bought because she believes they are authentic, and could hold some measure of power inside of them, which she believes should be protected.

    Celia doesn't care much for personal posessions, and doesn't really own much except for a couple of Sai (knives) and her knicknacks. Her appartement above the dojo is loosly furnished and sparsely decorated... And most importantly, well insulated, as she likes peace and quiet.

    Socially, Celia is a bit of a shut-in. She spends much of her time alone, and generally does not put a lot of effort into putting on a good show for others. The only exception to this is in her teaching, where her passion for martial arts shines through, and she has been known to be quite charismatic before withdrawing into her shell.

    The important thing to her is to never lose control of herself. She must remain calm and in control of her speech and actions at all times- when she was younger and full of anger, there had been a couple of incidents that almost lost her her sensei. Hell, the last one almost got her arrested. From that time on, she had perfected self-discipline, and carefully kept out of any situation that could result in her becoming emotionally attached, in her losing control again.

    Dream:

    Celia woke again, her eyes flying open and her mind seeming to empty of the dark shapes and strange faces for the third night in a row.

    What did the visions mean? She was aquainted with chinese medicine, and was sure that she was centered inside, and that her apartment had excellent Feng Shui. She meditated and performed martial arts daily, so surely her mind was not conjuring up these horrors from hidden anxiety.

    It must be an external force, evil spirits descending on me, preparing to take my relics? She bounded over to the dresser, pulling on a simple Gi and taking a necklace resembling a monkey's head and put it on. She then went into a locked cupboard and drew out a pair of Sai, a pair of 3-pronged daggers that were the only real weapons that she owned.

    Well, if the evil spirits want to come for me, they won't find me unprepared.

    And so she tucked the Sai into her belt and settled down comfortably to wait- For whatever was coming.

    ...Or her morning class, whichever came first.

    El Skid on
    mrpaku wrote: »
    my name is precisionk and i'm ten tanks

    wrath God fear traitor evil
  • DJP3710DJP3710 Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Yes, the story is set in Atlas City, present day. I haven't set exactly what season this is occurring in, yet, so if someone's character concept only makes sense during a certain time of year (student doing a summer internship, etc) feel free to let me know.

    DJP3710 on
  • HorseshoeHorseshoe Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    is a successful WoD game actually going to happen? man i would like nothing more.

    Hank Walker

    1366423127.jpg
    The role of Hank will be played by Ron Perlman.

    http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=197733

    Motivations:
    Charity - Hank has been characterized as many things by prison psychiatrists, and the words that come up again are "violent" and "sociopath". They're... almost right. Even though Hank doesn't necessarily have a lot going on in the way of true emotions, he has an understanding of what is considered right and what is considered wrong... and that for most of his life he has chosen "wrong". However... there are certain kinds of "wrong" that make Hank very upset. Seeing defenseless or disadvantaged people being abused is something he's very familiar with from childhood. He knows it's unfair and he knows it's despicable. Hank is particularly protective of women and children, particularly if he sees or knows they are being abused or exploited -- most likely due to early life and his father, a man who took out his frustrations upon the weak... particularly Hank in his formative years as well Hank's mother.

    Asking Hank about his dad... not a good idea.

    Wrath - Remember the "violent sociopath" bit? Hank has no problem with using violence as a tool to get things done. In fact, deep down in the primal part of his brain, he likes it. Hank has done some things in his life that would shock your average person. To him... the violence and ugliness of the world is just life. And when things get beyond his version of "just life", he gets ugly.

    Backstory (warning: long)

    Los Angeles, Twenty-Two Years Ago
    THUD
    "Come on, Cohen. You want to tell us, don't you? It'll get you out of this room, and you'll never have to see this guy again."
    His eyes and gold jewelry sparkling in the darkness of the slaughterhouse, he gestured back at the large ugly man, his wifebeater covered in blood, his hot breath steaming in the air.
    "You sure you don't want to say anything? Hank, ask him again."
    The large man lifted Cohen out of the pool of blood that was already spreading on the concrete floor with one hand. With the other, he smashed the man in the face with his other fist, sending the bloodied Cohen to the floor.
    "I'm going to ask you one more time, Cohen. Where. Are. My. Guns?"
    The gaze that the beaten man returned held only malice. Hank couldn't help but admire it a bit. Armando was ruthless, and Cohen didn't seem afraid of him... or of Hank. He wondered how many times he'd have to hit him. It was a casual thought. He didn't really care.
    "Boots."
    The large heel on Hank's motorcycle boot slammed into Cohen's ribs. The little man let out a small explosion of pain accompaning a cracking noise, and a single broken tooth, probably one he'd been holding in his mouth. No wonder. It was gold. Hank looked at the glimmering metal shape in the dark red pool. Beautiful. It was wrong to kick a man when he was down, yeah... it still felt kinda good. Best time, maybe.
    "A dozen TEC-9's. Was that so much to ask? Why aren't they in my guys' hands.? I promised two to Hank. He might not like that, mang. I think maybe you took my money like I was some kind of punk. It's not about the money, Cohen. I woulda paid more. But I don't like getting treated like a punk. Where. Are They."
    This time Hank started booting Cohen out of his own volition. He didn't like the cold of the warehouse, the way Armando wanted him to show off his size by wearing an undershirt, that he was beating a guy for bullshit money when he could be home watching the Raiders lose. He kicked Cohen for every inconvenience he could think of.
    "Hey, hey! Relax, guero. He can't tell me nothing if he's dead."
    Armando squatted down, trying to make sure his shoes stayed clean as possible, that his pinstriped pants and silk shirt were in no danger of being soiled. Cohen was wheezing what sounded something like words. Hank broke him. Mabye too badly. Armando got up with a smile.
    "I knew I could trust you Cohen. Hank... get rid of him."
    Hank knew all too well what those words meant. He knew it wasn't right. And he was going to do it anyway. He put on a white jacket nearby to get ready for the ugly part.

    Los Angeles, Twenty Years Ago
    Four men had packed themselves into the old Crown Victoria. In the driver's seat, a large framed thug in sunglasses turned the ignition as the car seemed to unwillingly shudder to live. He revved the engine, it's 8-cylinder motor suddenly roaring vigorously.
    "Are we seriously pulling a job in this piece of shit?"
    "Don't talk about my car like that, man. She's just fine."
    "Yeah? Well I don't like the idea of sitting on like... like what? Somewhere about a half mil of coke in something that might fall apart at any time!"
    "I said it's fine. And it's got good mirrors, lights, no obvious 'pull me over please' crap... also, stop trying to do the math. We just move it."
    The men took a chance to check their weapons. Hank chambered rounds into a pair of TEC-9's. 9mm. Modified for full automatic fire. Barrel shroud. High-capacity magazines. About as illegal as you could get, he mused... but then again, so was transporting narcotics. At the back of his belt was a semi-auto pistol that he didn't bother to check. He'd cleaned it that morning. He stowed the machine pistols under the driver's seat.
    "You ladies ready?"
    "Yeah," repeated the other three, one by one, as they similarly treated their own banned firearms.
    The Crown Vicky rumbled out of the warehouse near San Pedro, down a few sidestreets, and on to the Harbor Freeway.
    "The fuck, Hank? The 110?? This is going to take forever."
    "What, you're in a hurry now, Chuy? We don't look any more suspicious than the rest of the trash out here. We'll be fine. Tranqilo."
    "There's more than Cops to worry about."
    "That's right. Us, for example."
    "You're a real comedian, Hank."
    "Guys... we've got pounds of cocaine wrapped in plastic and korean newspapers shoved into baby clothes. And that's what passes for knowing what you're doing today. You can't see the humor in that?"
    The car remained relatively quiet as it moved through the hazy streets. It was hot. When the Santa Ana winds blew all bets were off. Shit blew everywhere, desert heat came down into the basin, fire departments held their breaths. Heat, chaos, trash... it's the American Dream thought Hank.
    "You know what?" Chuy spoke up again, after several minutes of silence, "No, I don't see no humor in this. Money sounds too good, we picked it up too easy, and now we just cruisin' up to Hawthorne like it's no big deal."
    "Yeah, that's what we're doing. And then, the good part, we get paid."
    "Don't seem right, Hank.
    "Of course it don't seem right. We're moving snow for a drug ring. Your cousin Armando set it up. Erika said I could trust this job. She said Kique was cool."
    "She's a bitch, man."
    "Don't call that bitch a bitch, Chuy."
    A half an hour later, Hank considered that Chuy may have been right. Sometimes a little paranoia can go a long way The cops got to the drop point way too fast, Chuy and the other two died too fast, and his TEC-9's ran out off ammo way too fast. His car got hit by .40 caliber rounds so rapidly it could have been a machine gun. Maybe it was. He wasn't even sure how many times he got shot. As he lay on the ground, the last daylight Hank saw was obscured by blood and Hawthorne's Finest pointing guns.

    Antelope Valley Press Article -- 19 Years Ago
    Inmate suspect in killing cellmate.

    LANCASTER - A state prison inmate is suspected of killing another inmate who was a convicted child molester and arsonist in the cell they shared, a prison spokesman said Thursday. James Carpenter, 59, who was serving a 25-year sentence, was found mortally injured early Monday in his cell in a so-called "sensitive needs" section of California State Prison-Los Angeles County.

    As officers were doing a security check, they noticed an inmate lying on the cell floor, wrapped in a blood-soaked bedsheet. The officers unwrapped him, checked his pulse and called for prison medical personnel. Carpenter was pronounced dead about two hours later by the prison's chief medical officer.

    Cellmate Hank Walker, 26, who is serving a 30-years-to-life sentence as a "three strikes, you're out" repeat offender, was most likely the only other inmate known to have been in the cell. Prison officials cannot comment on whether Walker admitted killing his cellmate or said why he had done it. Lancaster Prison is currently at twice its capacity, and such crimes are unfortunately common.

    Walker was removed from his cell and taken to solitary confinement. He has not been charged with a crime, though the investigation is continuing by both state prison investigators and Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department homicide detectives.

    The interviewed official said he didn't know why either man was in the "sensitive needs" area, but he said the area holds inmates who are considered a risk in the general prison population, for reasons that include the crimes they committed, but more often because they dropped out of or offended a gang.

    Carpenter had been convicted in 1976 in Riverside County of child molesting and had served all of his current sentence in Lancaster. Walker went to state prison after the well known "Hawthorne Shootout". His sentence was for 30 years to life as his "third strike."

    Walker's "lock-down" cell is located a section of the prison in which prisoners are not allowed to leave their cells unless given special clearance to perform their job assignments. The overcrowded Lancaster prison contains some of the most violent criminals in the state, and is considered the most dangerous for both inmates and guards.

    California State Prison, Lancaster, 18 Years Ago
    The short man adjusted the red tie on his dark suit and straightened himself up before walking through the thick steel door, which locked behind him. The guard on the other side of the reinforced glass nodded at him. He pulled back the steel chair and sat down, opening the briefcase and removing some file folders before looking up at the two men opposite him. A stoic-looking guard with a shotgun stood behind a shackled man seated on the other side of the stainless steel table, a lit cigarette in his mouth.
    "Mr. Walker? I'm David Connors from the Legal Defense --"
    "Yeah, I know. Just spit it out."
    "Well, it seems that we may very well be able to appeal your sentence."
    "Appeal."
    "Yes. Though you've already been convicted, I have a report from several doctors indicating that you were not notified of your Miranda Rights while you were concsious."
    "So what? I heard that shit plenty of times."
    "Henry..." The lip of convict's scarred face snarled a bit at the mention of his given name, as the Connors earnestly put his hands together in front of him on the table. "This is very serious, Henry. We're trying to help you."
    "Bullshit."
    "I'm serious. In the case of your arrest, there were several --"
    "Not that. You. Your whole act is bullshit. You really think you're trying to help me? Save my life? Is that what you do?"
    "That's why I'm here, Henry. Your sentence was not correctly administered in this case --"
    "No. That's bullshit again. You don't want to save a guy like me. I've already committed another murder since I was in here. He was a rapist. Turns out he used to live about three miles from me. I stabbed him in the neck with a bed-spring I twisted off and sharpened on the floor. Did you know a person can do that... David?"
    The lawyer stammered a bit and tugged at his collar.
    "What we want --"
    "What you want," barked Hank, "is some kind of award for getting me called "an innocent man" and freeing me. You want to be a Big Damn Hero. Right? Fuck. Off."
    "Mister Walker --"
    "I said fuck off!"
    Hank leaned back far enough to get the cigarette in his hands and flick it into Connors' face. The guard didn't move.
    "Now get out of here before I do something that makes Jasper back there club me in the back of the head. It hurts."
    The lawyer quickly shuffled his papers together, stuffed them into his briefcase, and nearly jumped out of his skin when Hank raised his knees and banged them on the table. Connors' exited somewhat desperately, banging on the door several times before he left the room. Hank stared for a moment at the cigarette burning away uselessly at the other end of the table. The guard, Jasper, finally spoke up.
    "Alright Hank... we both know the drill. I gotta put you back in."
    "Aw, come on, Jazz." Hank turned and smiled, his large teeth framed by a scarred face. "Neither of us want to go out there yet. Let me have another smoke, you take it easy for a couple minutes, and we'll get on with it then, alright."
    Jasper put another cigarette in Hank's mouth and helped him light it. Hank didn't try to drag it out to stay out of his cell... he just tried to enjoy the smoke and stop thinking.

    California State Prison, Lancaster, 15 years ago.
    NPR broadcasted several pieces on prisons in various states, interviewing lawyers, victims, and violent inmates. The intent of the producers seemed to be to raise the awareness of "true cost of prison to a free society" in the United States. Dozens of such pieces were recorded and nationally aired.
    "There are an appalling number of inmates who will have been administered severe punishments in this state. Hank Walker was imprisoned a short time ago, the sole surviving criminal in a shootout in Hawthorne, the circumstances of which are considered suspicious by several legal experts. Lakshmi Jones-Hernandez interviewed him recently in his confined cell."
    "Hello, Hank. I'm -"
    "Don't. Just get to what you want to ask."
    "Okay... Do you have a family, Hank?"
    "No. I'd probably turn into my Dad... or maybe I'm just too sickened at the idea."
    "What do you mean by that?"
    "I'm a criminal. I don't live like you people. It's a different world. I didn't get caught this bad for a long time. I survived. I stole food when I was a kid. I stole cars as a teenager. I grew up, it got worse. I started working for people. Assault, Battery, Arson, and things I don't even want to say. On my own time, I mugged, murdered and robbed. I shit-kicked guys into the hospital --"
    "It says here you're also guilty of rape. Is that true?"
    "No. The rest is probably true."
    "Okay... so... no family? No friends?"
    "No. Ah f*ck, I'm lying. There was this one kid, his f*cking liberal parents had to name him 'Dove'. Think about that for a second, a boy getting that name pinned on him. I was like... I dunno, 19. He watched me fix up my old Chevelle in the driveway, I showed him some stuff. He tried out for Pop Warner because of me... and he's a hell of a linebacker now. I watched the games from my car. Used to. Shit. I wonder how old that guy is now."
    "So you like kids? Why is that?"
    "Yeah. I'm not some creep in a van, if that's what you're thinking. They just aren't scared of me. They say things that aren't stupid. Kid tells me he's ugly, he's just saying what's right and it's nothing else. I like that."
    "Weren't the police concerned?"
    "Yeah. But I wasn't doing nothing wrong. Didn't even bring weapons with me went I went to watch the games."
    "Do you resent the police for profiling you?"
    "Profiling? No. They should profile guys like me. Look at where I am. I'm a murderer. Yeah, I don't like Cops, but that's because I'm a criminal. And they got even more useless than cops out here with their bullsh*t planned community badge-mokeys. I know criminals when I see one."
    "What do you mean?"
    "You wouldn't get it. I can tell a guy who's casing a house when I see one. I can tell a rapist who's looking for a place to hide so he can jump soccer-moms or their teenage daughters when they're jogging. I know a dude prowling a schoolyard when I see one. I can see guy who beats his wife and kids when after work. We used to have little 'talks' sometimes."
    "You protected your neighborhood?"
    "No. I protected myself. I was a thug and nobody liked me."
    "From who?"
    "Normal people."
    "You made a bond with that child though?"
    "Different. He's a kid. They still got things in common with me."
    "So you played football?"
    "In school, yeah. Before I dropped out. Boxed a little too. Wasn't that good. Glass jaw."
    "It sounds like you lived in a residential area?"
    "You already had my address. Yes. Sherman Oaks. Nice neighborhood. No sense in hiding when everyone thinks you're a gang-banger. I wasn't popular."
    "What does that mean?"
    "I'm not a nice guy. You don't understand that, do you? You got your shiny shoes, you ask dumb questions, and you're too good looking. You're not a person, you're a target."
    *cough*
    "Was that a question? Yeah, I smoke. And I'm going to finish it."
    "Can you describe what happened that fatal day in June?"
    "This is how you talk? 'That fatal day in June'? Everyone knows what happened. Me and a few other idiots were middle men on a coke deal. The cops had us... drugs, illegal weapons, and a bunch of crimes they were itching to stick on me. We were on the street. I used the car for cover, they died getting shot in the back. I sprayed down a bunch of cops with a pair of TEC-9's. You know what that is? Whatever. They're illegal, of course. And they are not that accurate. I don't even know if I actually hit anything."
    "How do you feel about that? What was going through your mind?"
    "What are you, a psychiatrist? I don't feel anything. I was surviving. That's just the way it is."
    "What happened next?"
    "Woke up in a hospital bed surrounded by doctors and a buncha uniforms with guns. I got shot five or six times, I think. They start telling me all this shit I didn't understand 'cuz I was so doped up and then I ended up here. Lancaster. Most fucked prison in California. Sentenced for thirty years to life. Trying to get out earlier for good behavior. I'm can be a good inmate when I want to."
    "So you survived being gunned down by the police while the rest of your gang died?"
    "I'm lucky that way. And they weren't my gang."
    "You've been convicted of serious felonies. Did you commit all of those?"
    "You read my file. Doesn't matter now anyway."
    "You haven't appealed your case?"
    "No. You know that, too."
    "Are you aware of the advocacy for prison reform that might-- ?"
    "They don't know me. They can't in their wildest little activist dreams imagine that I deserve to be here. They don't know that people like me exist and that's why they have shit like solitary confinement. We done here?"
    This interview was never aired on NPR.

    California State Prison, Lancaster, 5 years ago.
    In the background, as Hank and Edgar mopped the floor of the rec room for "honor inmates", the TV news blared. Hank hated the news... currently some pundit was talking about prison spending. And how inmates got better treatment than people in nursing homes. He wanted to put that sonofabitch in Lancaster for a day. See how he liked the food that was so bad some guys families tried to get meals to them every day, getting attacked by inmates and guards constantly, trying to pay for your phonecalls and toothpaste on $27 a month. Not to mention cigarettes (at over a hundred bucks a pack), and the other things people don't know you gotta pay for to stay alive and well in the joint. Medical care was a joke. Hank was glad he didn't have friends, hadn't gotten lethally wounded, and his teeth had proved almost indestructible over the years.
    "How you did it, Hank?"
    "What?"
    "Stay alive this long, man. No gang backin' you up, no nothin'."
    "I used to spend most of my time in solitary, no gang would take me, and it's hard to kill me."
    "Ain't enough. God, man. God got plans for you."
    "Man, spare me that, okay. I ain't coming to your little pray-ins Edgar. You're not changing anything."
    "No we don't. God does, Hank. You should listen."
    "You should listen to me telling you to shut up, Edgar."
    "Aight man. But it better than sittin' around bein' bored."

    Edgar was right about that. Boredom was the biggest enemy. For the inmates and the guards. It was the cause of violence more than any other. And there was plenty of it to be had in somewhere as terrible as Lancaster. Even cleaning the guards' toilets was a welcome reprieve. And there were a few guys... not many but a few... who didn't even do wrong. That was probably what pissed Hank off the most... that he'd had a pro bono lawyer try to get him out. Hank knew why he was there. And in his mind, he deserved it.

    Lancaster, CA. Recent past. 60th Street.
    Hank stepped out through the chain link fence, wearing a set of clothes given to him... most of his personal effects had been ruined at the scene of his arrest. He lit a cigarette and put on his sunglasses. He hadn't seen light in over twenty years. He was in his forties now. It was like he'd time-traveled. The world was there, it had changed, and he had absolutely no idea what was supposed to happen next. He started walking north. Good a direction as any.

    This is why people must go back into the game. The game never changes. You always gotta do the same stuff. I'm still tough enough for it, I'm still mean enough for it. No. I ain't going to do it. I ain't going back to that cell, and I ain't going to get more scars from whittled down soap or toothbrushes.

    He continued to walk and smoke his way through the hot California sun, through the soil that crunched beneath his feet at the side of the road, through the smell of smoke and dirt and sweat. Hed known life in LAC longer than he'd known life on the outside. He was just a kid in his twenties when he got arrested for posession of illegal firearms, assault with a deadly weapon, and other crimes.

    Life on the outside. He thought he was never going to see it. And here it was. In goddamned Lancaster of all places. In the top 100 most dangerous cities in america, according to an article he'd read on the inside. He looked over at the San Gabriel Mountains, like a wall that separated him from LA, the only other place he'd known. It seemed like Lancaster was practically a prison on the outside.

    He walked what seemed a long distance down the shoulder 60th street, feeling the desolation and the cars that raced by. Was he a drifter now? What else would he have been. Bullshit tract housing across the street. He kept heading toward the water tower in the distance.

    Finally he passed the water tower, found himself in the row of bleak houses roasting the the Mojave sun. Empty lots with no sign of occupation... who the hell would want 'em?

    His feet carried him a few more miles to something labeled "Southwestern Steakhouse". A steak sounded pretty good... as strange as it was, this place standing smack in the middle of dirty hot shitty nothing. Maybe that was perfect. He recalled that barbeque place that was in the middle of nowhere in Morongo Valley. Damn that place was good. Better than the one he always used to go to in Crenshaw.

    He sat down outside in what little shade he could find, chain-smoking until the place opened at 4pm. As he went to the dumpster to toss away his butt, he saw a soggy piece of paper on the ground. He picked it up. Sure enough it was a bus ticket. Atlas City... one way.

    Why the hell not?

    The Dream.
    I can't sleep at the YMCA anymore. Three times you wake up screaming and they reccommend you seek more 'advanced' help. Three strikes. At least this time I didn't up behind bars... but at least then I knew how often I'd be eating and sleeping. I didn't have to page through the want ads with rejection to look forward to.

    Day Labor. Flophouse. Hotplate. Walking around with the biggest knife I could find at a flea market in my coat pocket. All of $1.50 and I sharpened it on the concrete. I can't even afford a piece of shit MP-25 or a J-22. I tell myself I don't need weapons. I'm not the kind of person who is supposed to have them. I can go back in the pen if I get caught with them. But they're what I know. It's like how some people can't do without cell phones or a driver's license. Most people didn't even have cell phones when I went inside. I'm a teenager again... at fortysomething years old. I'm not exactly sure how old I am. Prison does that to your sense of time. You get thirty to life and then one day you don't count. And then the next day you don't. And the next And then time is gone.

    I feel too old. I
    try not to sleep despite how fucking beat I am at the end of the day.

    Every night it's the same.

    I'm on a beach. The sand is white, and I know it's not supposed to be. It gets more real every night. It crunches. It's not snow. It's ground fine but not from rock. The sea is black, and I know it's not supposed to be. Not because water isn't black. It's that metallic smell when it hits my cheek. It's that smell that doesn't wash off your hands easy.

    Everything's a haze. There's this black thing. Eventually it starts looking like a house. At first it was empty. And then these white lines started creeping in. Rotten box springs. A skeleton on top. Not just a skeleton but a cooked one. Flesh still on him. There's burnt wallpaper. A kitchen full of dishes. I keep looking around until I look back at the bed. It's my old man. The night after he threw my mom down the stairs and broke her neck and passed out on the bed. The first time I made sure he never got up again. I was five or six. I wasn't even old enough to go to school.

    The house starts to swim around me. I feel like I'm going to puke. There's something in the house. It growls at first. A few days later it could make words. It knows my name. Henry, it says. Henry, come upstairs. Go to sleep. We're waiting for you. I can't breathe. I run back out to the stoop.

    And they're outside. Them. They look like people. They're shaped kinda like people. Always shifting. And staring at me. They look like something wearing someone's skin. One size too tight. I fall on my knees. There's nowhere to run. Everything is the same. A sea of blood, a desert of bones. That house. Those voices. Those 'people'. I start howling like an animal.

    I wake up out of breath. My throat burns.

    Every morning I think about doing something that'll get me in the joint for the rest of my life. Like if I went back things would be the way they were. I've never felt crazy before. It's only when I sleep. But if I went back to prison? I don't know if it will change anything. Things are different. Forever.

    It started when I came to Atlas. Someone in this city knows. I know they do.

    And I'm going to find them.

    Horseshoe on
    dmsigsmallek3.jpg
  • EgosEgos Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    when will the submission period end?

    Egos on
  • DJP3710DJP3710 Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    I'll give it a week (or until I feel we have enough submissions).

    DJP3710 on
  • jcpillarsjcpillars Registered User
    edited September 2010
    First time playing WoD. Here's my guy. I know he's weak in combat but he is an an immoral, alcoholic local politician. He is also a physical coward.

    Character Sheet:
    http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=241870

    Background:
    Maxwell goes by the name of Shooter. He got that name because he drank more shots of alcohol in one night than any of his fraternity brothers at the University of [insert Midwestern Mountain State here]. He flunked out of law school with a 1.6 GPA. Soon after he totaled his BMW into a Racetrack Gasoline Station convenient store.

    Using his family's connections, he worked as an investment manager working local real estate. When the opportunity came up, he pursued public office after his predecessor got arrested for corruption. He ran unopposed as a Republican in the 7th District of Atlas City.

    He spends his days golfing, going to seedy bars during the day, and occasionally heading down to City Hall to check on his assistant who is the real representative of the 7th. At nights, he goes to sports bars, bets a lot of his Dad's money on college basketball, and drinks himself to oblivion. Occasionally, some innocent young woman would be lured back to his apartment Downtown with empty promises and an exaggerated perception of his power.

    jcpillars on
  • EgosEgos Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Name: Aedan Sonnen
    Age: 28
    Gender: Male

    Stats:

    Int:••
    Wits:••
    Resolve:•••

    Strength:•••
    Dexterity:•••
    Stamina:••

    Presence:••••
    Manipulation:•
    Composure:•

    Defense:2
    Size:5
    Health:7
    Initiative:4
    Morality:7
    Speed:5
    Movement:

    Virtues and Vices
    Justice
    Pride

    Skills
    Physical:
    Athletics:••••
    Brawl:••
    Firearms:•••• (Sniping)
    Stealth:•

    Mental:
    Academics:••
    Computers:••
    Medicine: •• (Emergency Care)
    Politics: •


    Social:
    Persuasion:•••• (Oratory)


    Merits
    Inspiring: ••••
    Fast Reflexes: ••
    Quick Draw: •


    Background:
    If you can imagine the photo negative of every propaganda image of a handsome pilot used during any US War to else spread the war effort, you might end with something like Aedan. If there was a darker world version of that propaganda image, he would be it.

    Aedan went into college studying philosophy. As a child he was always deeply concerned with the nature of evil and its existence, so it only seemed nature for him to pursue this path. Despite very little career opportunities in the field. He became fascinated with notions such as the "will to power", cults of personalities and revolutionaries. He would soon join the ROTC program in school. Not out of patriotism but as a to way to access a means to "fight the injustices he viewed"... The fact this wouldn't necessarily coincide with the countries current plans..proved problematic.

    After graduation, Aedan attended Officer Cadet School to completion but was denied service after several psychological examinations. Considering his ultimate goal was grandiose and along the lines of taking out various despots through means only know to himself .....this is not surprising.

    The men who denied him did not know this whole story of course, but.. it stopped him from his goals. And the image he had crafted of himself. He technically remained a "reserve". And he still trained from time to time, allowing the goal to fester in his mind. But reality started to set in over the years . And it is starting to seem unlikely he will be that hero and rid the world of said evils and he wonders if he even knows what he is talking about especially since he has been sent to a retreat in Atlas City on behalf of his family.

    The Dream

    The Dream started three days after arriving in at the retreat. At first, Aedan didn't know what to make of them. He told Dr. Lamrec of what he had seen; he just gave him more sedatives to take before he went to sleep. But the dreams became more and more vivid.

    Various combination of sleeping medications and anti-depressants were added to the mix of pills he would take each night, but the dreams got more vivid. The reaction was mixed, he always woke up in a sweat and it seemed like he had finally received confirmation he had gone insane. At the same time this was the first time he had actually felt like he was chosen for something. Despite how painful they were, he wasn't sure if he wanted them to stop.

    Brief idea, wanted to go with photo negative of the Army poster boy. Not sure if that comes through. Will check in the morning for grammar errors and odd wording. Just wanted to get something down.

    Egos on
  • KayKay What we need... Is a little bit of PANIC.Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Are you picking the first few characters submitted, or taking a certain number from the overall submissions? I'd very much like to come up with a character, but it'd have to be later in the day given work and all that.

    Also, how much real-world fiction would be present in-game? A concept forming in my mind right now revolves around a young adult who has a huge interest in urban myth and legend, with an almost encyclopaediac knowledge of weird fiction - he'd have read all the WoD fiction (which is the one that is most likely NOT to exist in this world, unless it's the Black Dog stuff), be a huge paranormal weirdness buff, know all of the 'spooky internet stuff' like the Keepers, the SCP Foundation, Marble Hornets, John Dies At The End, all that stuff. He'd also be well-versed with more classical literature, like Lovecraft, Stoker, Shelley and Byron.

    I'm just wondering what'd exist in this world, and what wouldn't.

    Kay on
    ew9y0DD.png
    3DS FCode: 1993-7512-8991
  • Void SlayerVoid Slayer Very Suspicious Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Well here's a random submission, though I am interested. Was pretty fun making up the character, though I have 2 unspent merit points if someone has an idea that would fit in the concept.

    Name: Jeremy Silver
    Age: 29
    Gender: Male
    Concept: Mentally unstable college dropout
    Int: ••••
    Wits:••
    Resolve:•

    Str:•••
    Dex:•••
    Sta:••

    Presence:•••
    Manipulation:•
    Comp:••

    Defence: 2
    Size: 5
    Health: 7
    Initiative: 4
    Morality: 7
    Speed: 11
    Willpower: 3

    Virtue: Kindness
    Vice: Sloth

    Skills:
    Academics:•••
    Computer:•
    Occult:•
    Medicine:••
    Science (Biology,Physics):••••

    Athletics (swimming):••••

    Animal Ken:••
    Expression:••
    Persuasion:••
    Socialize:•

    Merits:
    Resources:•
    Fame:•
    Direction Sense:•
    Contacts (mental health professionals, Atlas University):••
    Allies(Atlas University):••

    Background:
    Jeremy was a talented and hardworking student at Atlas university. Although everything interested him he concentrated on the physical sciences, hoping to get a doctorate eventually and contribute to the city he loves. He also competed nationally on their swim team and at the Olympics, though he did not win a medal.

    Shortly afterwords he spiraled into a deep depression and almost took his life. Although he was only hospitalized for a short time his terrible dreams and depression were never successfully controlled by medication. He attempted to continue his education several times; however the stress and shame combined with his condition made this impossible. First his grades and attendance slipped, then, despite the help of several of his professors, he left the university completely.

    Jeremy currently works as a clerk at a local grocery store and part time as a janitor in one of the large office buildings downtown. He also volunteers at a downtown animal shelter.

    Void Slayer on
    He's a shy overambitious dog-catcher on the wrong side of the law. She's an orphaned psychic mercenary with the power to bend men's minds. They fight crime!
  • DJP3710DJP3710 Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    We certainly have an interesting spread of characters right now. As for the selection process, it won't be first entered first in, definitely. Beyond that, I make no promises.

    Kay: As for whether the World of Darkness exists in this world or not, it would be smarter to say it doesn't exist AS the World of Darkness. Maybe there's some parody based off it, but yeah...

    Essentially, I'm still not completely sure how completely the World of Darkness setting fits into what I'm organizing. Will there be Werewolves, Changelings, Vampires, etc? As the World of Darkness knows them? Maybe, we'll see once the game has started.

    DJP3710 on
  • El SkidEl Skid The frozen white northRegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Mysterious...
    Just like the world of darkness! :P

    El Skid on
    mrpaku wrote: »
    my name is precisionk and i'm ten tanks

    wrath God fear traitor evil
  • HorseshoeHorseshoe Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    okay i think i got my sheet straight

    lemme know if i screwed somethin' up

    Horseshoe on
    dmsigsmallek3.jpg
  • El SkidEl Skid The frozen white northRegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    He's pretty messed up, Shoe. :o

    El Skid on
    mrpaku wrote: »
    my name is precisionk and i'm ten tanks

    wrath God fear traitor evil
  • HorseshoeHorseshoe Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    yeah he's a messed up dude kinda

    but i think the mythweavers sheet is at least acceptable

    [strike]speaking of, ST

    are you okay with trading a point of morality for 5xp at character creation?

    i can't remember if that is a standard rule or not

    anyway, i'd probably put hank down at 6, which is sorta in line with the "gang member" example antagonist in the book[/strike]

    edit: take it back, i think hank is trying to be better than that now

    Horseshoe on
    dmsigsmallek3.jpg
  • KayKay What we need... Is a little bit of PANIC.Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Thanks for the reply, DJ. Knowing that I have a little more time to flesh out a concept is good. I'll work on my screwed up urban-legend expert in the near future.

    I'm thinking that he could have been studying psychology, with a project on urban myth and legend as his Masters project, though that may be a little too close to the Candyman storyline for comfort.

    Kay on
    ew9y0DD.png
    3DS FCode: 1993-7512-8991
  • cj iwakuracj iwakura The Rhythm Regent Chantry of NightmaresRegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Just want to chime in: how would one define a 'successful' WoD game? Because it's hard to keep any PBP alive through to an endgame of some sort.
    (heaven knows I've tried)

    cj iwakura on
    0QcdpUO.png
  • Void SlayerVoid Slayer Very Suspicious Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Everybody dies? ha ha no I kid... but like what would be considered one chapter of a story or an episode of a TV show would be a start.

    Void Slayer on
    He's a shy overambitious dog-catcher on the wrong side of the law. She's an orphaned psychic mercenary with the power to bend men's minds. They fight crime!
  • cj iwakuracj iwakura The Rhythm Regent Chantry of NightmaresRegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Well, every WoD game I've been in has usually managed that much. I'd like to think if the players enjoy it while it lasts, it was a success on some level.

    cj iwakura on
    0QcdpUO.png
  • jcpillarsjcpillars Registered User
    edited September 2010
    Sounds like it's going to be fun.

    jcpillars on
  • HorseshoeHorseshoe Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Hank updated with his version of 'the dream' from the OP.

    Horseshoe on
    dmsigsmallek3.jpg
  • El SkidEl Skid The frozen white northRegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Yeah, I added a bunch to Celia as well.

    El Skid on
    mrpaku wrote: »
    my name is precisionk and i'm ten tanks

    wrath God fear traitor evil
  • DJP3710DJP3710 Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    These are interesting little additions to Hank and Celia; I kind of like this, though, and it actually falls in line with the "surprise." Very good, very good. So far we have five characters entered, I'll give it a little longer to see what else comes up, then we'll start: I look forward to seeing how this all turns out.

    Edit: In fact, I'm happy to encourage other applicants to come up with character reactions (like Celia)/interpretations (like Hank's) of the Dreams. A little foreknowledge of the character's outlook towards it (or if they even really remember them when they wake up) would be useful for the start.

    DJP3710 on
  • DJP3710DJP3710 Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Just double-checking to make sure everyone is still here. I did say a week, and I'll keep to that schedule, but the sooner we get characters in the sooner we can get started and I can stop agonizing over the setting and whether this will actually work or not and all that other fun stuff.

    Additionally, I'm going to be a jerk and request one more thing from everyone submitting a character. Please PM to me a list of defining tragedies/hardships/event/urges in your character's life. When I say defining, I don't mean "His cat died when he was 5." Yes, it's tragic and probably meant a lot to him at the time, but unless the death of said cat is something that has literally integrated itself with the core of his being, it's not a defining characteristic.

    Examples can be:
    -Death of an immediate (or at least very close) family member, especially if this led to a troubled period (parents divorced, major lifestyle change, etc).

    -A "journey" (used loosely) which resulted in a great growth (or maybe degeneration) as a person (Prison sentence, religious pilgrimage, extremely vicious divorce, etc.)

    -One particular moment in which their outlook on life changed due to an exhaustive number of circumstances. It could be a societal change (the Kennedy assassination, moon landing, first premiere of the Beatles), an anecdotal situation (first true love, that summer at band camp) or perhaps a moment of incredible emotion.

    -Urges aren't quite so easily categorized. These are just things that make your character who they are, not necessarily related to any outward event; complexes and vices fall into this category, but so do more wholesome things, such as still considering themselves a devout catholic, regardless of the bad things they may have done. Maybe they have a soft spot for dogs or children, or a love of art. This is the golden lining in the shadow, good or bad quirks or habits that exist because they just do.

    Please be sure to list the three most important events at the top of the list; you can make the list as long as you'd like, but try to have the most defining things at the top. This does not need to be an overly-detailed list, either. You don't need to map out the character's history, just give me a few key moments, periods of time or aspects.

    Edit: This isn't as committed of a task as you might think it is. My examples didn't likely help, on that note. If you've created at least a decent backstory for your character, then this "event list" business is half-done already. You don't need to create events or stick on extra bells and whistles to your character's existence, unless you'd like to.

    DJP3710 on
  • DJP3710DJP3710 Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    It's been what has felt like a really long week. So, is everybody ready to send Rhapsody out on its maiden voyage, see if it sinks or floats or catches fire?

    To those of you who already responded to my jerk request (Horseshoe, Egos), thank you. If everybody else is spending their time agonizing over the content of said post, don't worry so much.

    And yes, I still intend to keep to my Sunday deadline for starting this game, so if you had intended to submit a character this is my subtle kick to the ass.

    DJP3710 on
  • KayKay What we need... Is a little bit of PANIC.Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Drew Kristoph, 23 year old Eternal Student.

    ATTRIBUTES:
    Mental:
    Intelligence •••
    Wits •••
    Resolve ••

    Physical:
    Strength •
    Dexterity •••
    Stamina ••

    Social:
    Presence •••
    Manipulation ••
    Composure ••

    SKILLS:
    Mental:
    Academics ••
    Computer ••
    Investigation ••• (Dreams)
    Occult ••• (Urban Legends)
    Science •

    Physical:
    Athletics •
    Larceny •
    Stealth ••

    Social:
    Empathy •
    Persuasion •• (Fast Talking)
    Socialize •
    Streetwise •
    Subterfuge ••
    Derived Stats:
    Defense: 3
    Size: 5
    Health: 7
    Initiative: 5
    Morality: 7
    Speed: 9
    Willpower: 4
    Merits:
    Encyclopedic Knowledge ••••
    Contacts (Journalist) •
    Resources ••

    Background:
    Drew is the youngest of three children born to an independently wealthy family in Atlas City. His eldest sibling was groomed to take over the family business when his father was ready to retire, his elder sister studied law and is now working her way up the hierarchy of a local law firm, and Drew... well. Drew was free to do whatever he wanted, and he found this to his liking.

    At first, he studied useful subjects - science, math, law - until a friend of his introduced him to the concept of Urban Myth, the wild fantasies of Lovecraft and Derleth, as well as the more modern tales of David Wong and Brian Lumley. At this point, he decided it was time to study what he wanted, and to learn for the sake of learning. He decided to write a thesis on 'The Psychology of Modern Myth', and as his professors had no problem with whatever he decided to do (his parents had money, after all), he set to work.

    Drew learned a huge amount about modern Urban Myths, as well as the older legends that many were based on. His studies also bordered on the more occult leanings, and read about the secret societies of the early twentieth century, more out of personal interest than anything else. As he delved deeper into these mysteries, Drew started to learn about the techniques involved in spiritualism, automatic writing, and lucid dreaming. That's when the dreams of threatening darkness started.

    Reading up on the dreams, Drew practiced the skills needed, and though he had a fair measure of success in more normal dreams, any time he fell prey to this recurring nightmare, his ability to direct the flow of the dream faltered. Until last night. He managed to take a step fowards, towards the threatening storms, and scream a question at them. He just does not remember the question, or the answer he is sure he received. Maybe next time the dream hits, he'll be able to control himself with more success.

    Kay on
    ew9y0DD.png
    3DS FCode: 1993-7512-8991
  • El SkidEl Skid The frozen white northRegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    I'm thinking through your request, DJP. Will get back to you soon-ish.

    El Skid on
    mrpaku wrote: »
    my name is precisionk and i'm ten tanks

    wrath God fear traitor evil
  • DJP3710DJP3710 Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Okay. Once again, the Jerk Request is something that would assist me, however if you can't come up with anything pertinent and feel that your background covers it well enough, you can just say that in your PM.

    Less than a day to go, folks.

    DJP3710 on
  • DJP3710DJP3710 Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    While I will still be open to submissions, the starting group has been decided upon.

    Celia Mark (El Skid)
    Hank Walker (Horseshoe) Correction: Your skill spread is 12/6/4, not 11/7/4. Also, you've got one too many skill specializations.
    Aedan Sonnen (Egos) Correction: Skill spread is 12/7/4. Also, you didn't choose any skill specializations.
    Jeremy Silver (Void Slayer)
    Drew Kristoph (Kay)

    The IC Thread will be coming up shortly, feel free to start once it's around.

    jc pillars: You never replied to my PM. Let's have a chat.

    To other interested players, feel free to post your potential characters here. I'm by no means done recruiting.

    DJP3710 on
  • DJP3710DJP3710 Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    El Skid brings up a good question. Is there any particular way everyone wanted to handle dice rolls? I can do them for you, or is there a particular system better suited for this?

    DJP3710 on
  • El SkidEl Skid The frozen white northRegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Standard is to let players roll for themselves on either orokos or invisiblecastle, with a standard campaign name to prevent shenanigans.

    That said, I'm not sure how much mystique there will be around this game, secret rolls/modifiers etc. Maybe this game is better suited to GM rolls?

    El Skid on
    mrpaku wrote: »
    my name is precisionk and i'm ten tanks

    wrath God fear traitor evil
  • DJP3710DJP3710 Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    That's how I did it with the Occult check just now, yes. I made the roll with real dice I dug out of a bag somewhere. 1, 6 and 10, then 10, then 6.

    DJP3710 on
  • KayKay What we need... Is a little bit of PANIC.Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    I'll get my PM sent to you before the end of the day! Promise!

    And thanks for choosing Drew!

    Kay on
    ew9y0DD.png
    3DS FCode: 1993-7512-8991
  • DJP3710DJP3710 Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    I'd just like to note, even if you haven't sent me anything through PM yet, feel free to post in the IC Thread. The information I discern from PMs won't see use immediately.

    DJP3710 on
  • CheeselikerCheeseliker Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Another WoD game? Hell yeah. Will have a character up soon.

    Cheeseliker on
  • HorseshoeHorseshoe Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    DJP3710 wrote: »
    Hank Walker (Horseshoe) Correction: Your skill spread is 12/6/4, not 11/7/4. Also, you've got one too many skill specializations.

    d'oh! knew i musta missed something. will correct and update sheet soon.

    Horseshoe on
    dmsigsmallek3.jpg
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