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This isn't finished - I'm still trying to find a good picture, and fill out the connections, and make the audition, and I'll probably draft up some additional puppets - but I just wanted to post it to prove that I'm still working on the darn thing and maybe get some feedback.

I promise I'm still working on my sheet, just been slow on account of work. I'll have it done this weekend, definitely.
(Well, that was certainly a scene.)

Anyway, I'll get started on my character sheet, but to reiterate for those who didn't see it in the original interest check: I'm planning on creating a ventriloquist/puppeteer character whose puppets contain defeated (and exceptionally unhappy) demons captured by the Circus in years past, which he can mostly control in combat and performances. I described him as "Jeff Dunham if all of his puppets were possessed and hated him".

So, basically Jeff Dunham. I'm going to be playing Jeff Dunham. Oh my god what am I doing with my life.
I've got a character idea: a ventriloquist/puppeteer whose puppets contain trapped, defeated minor demons. The puppets contain the demon's former powers (under the puppeteer's control) and personality (absolutely not under his control, and generally pissed off at their present situation). Useful both in combat and performance!

Basically (and I wish I could think of a better comparison), Jeff Dunham if all of his puppets had free will, magical powers, and hated him.
Circus performers slash demon hunters? Fuck me if that doesn't sound fun.
This sounds like it might be fun.
I haven't got any messages yet. If this doesn't take off in the next day or two it probably won't go anywhere.


Seriously? I could have sworn I sent you a message just the other day. Really hope I'm not going crazy.

I'll write up a bare-bones proof of concept and send it to you soon.
This looks really interesting. Are there still any spaces?
This looks pretty interesting. Count me in.


Coinneach Mac EĆ²ghainn - or Kenneth McEwan, to those who had difficulties wrapping their tongues around the Gaelic - drank, tapped his foot, and thought. He'd already finished two glasses of the scotch he'd brought with him, and he knew he'd need to pace himself if he wanted it to last however long they were going to be in this godsforsaken place, but-

Kenneth grimaced, catching his own thoughts. Godforsaken. Not godsforsaken. God. Singular.

Deep in his pickled mind, drowned under the alcohol, a memory stirred. "Damn it, damn it, damn it," Kenneth muttered, tossing back the rest of his drink. At the sound of Katya's order to the bartender, he latched on. He needed something real to focus on. Something that wasn't-

wasn't as yellow as the sun at midday, carved into dark stone that wouldn't stay still-

No.

"Lass, if ye need a drink, I've got plenty. No need to waste yer coin," he offered, showing her one of the bottles he kept in the inner pockets of his heavy wool coat.

Against his will, his eyes drifted from the Russian woman next to him at the bar to that damned man in the corner. The man dressed all in yellow, singing to anybody that was listening and staring out into nothing. Mercifully, his lyrics had fallen into whispers, but his lips moved around the hushed words. Kenneth's memory stirred, threatening to break the surface, and he looked away. "Damn it all and blast it to hell," he muttered, tossing back the rest of his drink and pouring a new one before the last swallow had reached his stomach. "Something's wrong in this place. Everything's wrong in this place. What's the deal with this doctor fellow we're looking for, anyhow?"
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