Ruby

Upon the Sunset Sea; World of Darkness RP

Rachel

---

"Brave? No." Rachel smiled. And then actually began to laugh, a little, before simply residing to amusement. "Oh, no. I was terrified--am terrified, actually. But that didn't matter, and still doesn't. The woman that ordered that ill-mannered fiend off you? I'd leap into Final Death if she needed me to. My unlife would be a state worse than Final Death if it wasn't for her. So when she moved..." I moved. It's what we do for each other. But none of that really needed to be said aloud, did it? Rachel thought not.

But the woman's point was taken, just so long as she realized Rachel's counter-point: Eva wouldn't have publicly backed down. Not even from a Garou; suicidal, sure, but you don't make friends with creatures you definitely shouldn't make friends with if you only followed the natural (and supernatural) order of things in the world. Fear doesn't make friends, so you stand there, unflinching, and smile, and offer a helping hand. Suicidal, sure, but Eva was still standing. And because of that attitude, Rachel was standing right next to her, Princes allowing Rachel to go unhunted, kill orders suspended.

The iPhone went off again. Rachel slipped a hand into her pocket, and silenced it. A few seconds later, it happened again, and her mind was forced in half; half of her bringing the phone out to quick text a response, the other still in conversation with the big bad wolf woman. "I know what you are, I know what your kind can do to my kind, believe me. Still this world doesn't come down to martial skill alone anymore. Last time we dealt with a group of your kind who refused to play nice, that woman threatened one of their holy sites with enough radiation to ensure you'd be turned into a glow stick if you tried to use it for...whatever your kind uses it for. Then it'd be handed over to Federal authorities for clean up, which would've meant so much more headaches and trouble than getting cranky with a very nice one of my kind was really worth. Never was physical violence threatened, not by our side, anyway. Oddly enough the biker gang of your kind still shows up for BBQs on the beach from time to time, and they're downright friendly, even if they smell like..."

Text done, her mind fully returned to whom she speak to, and her words trailed off. Well, smell like you kinda do now. Another something better left unsaid, hushed behind a tiny hint of blushing smile. "Another shot, Mr. Locke, on Ms. Eva's tab?..." Her brown eyes had grown soft, even if the wheels within wheels of her thoughts were in constant motion just past the softness. "Youknowwhat, just leave the bottle, Mr. Locke, please."

"WHATTHEFUCK JEW GIRL."

Rachel jumped, before groaning, dread and exasperation thick in her voice; the "super agent" had exploded into the Sunset Lounge, not seeming to notice the blood he walked past to get in. "Not now, Theo."

But there he was, persistent, right behind her, all million dollar Agent with the designer suit, shoes, and sunglasses to match. He wasn't the tallest; Michelle was likely taller, but his presence was pretty well demanding for a mortal man with no ties to anything supernatural; other than the power of his Contact list, and the power of his super Agency. His tone lowered, but not the combatant nature of it, as he stepped up behind them, ignoring the fact Rachel had been speaking to someone else. Ignoring Michelle's existence completely, so far. "Who the fuck gave Badlands to McConaughey?"

Rachel only turned her head, her voice becoming sharper with each syllable. "Uh, maybe the Director? McConaughey asked for much less than your client, and didn't demand a Producer credit."

"My client? You mean Leo-motherfuckin-DiCaprio? That Texas Irish fuck couldn't out act my client if it was on a stage in Texas and they were both playing an Irish cocksucker FROM Texas."

Rachel stared, Theo Finestein fumed. "How do I talk to her? I'm going over your head on this one."

"Talk to the Studio President?" Rachel smiled, now, knowing Finestein doing so wouldn't have matter. Not when--

--he knew why. How he knew, she could only guess. Theo Finestein wasn't supernatural, but it was easily forgotten that he wasn't with how good he was at his job. "She owns the Warner Brothers President, with what black voodoo fucking magic I have no idea, but don't play games with me, Rothkopf. How do I talk to her? How do I get a phone into her mother. fucking. hand?"

Her smile never budged. In fact, Rachel Rothkopf only seemd to get more relaxed. "You don't need a phone to talk to her, Theo."

...the man's demeanor changed, instantly. He knew something was up. Knew Rachel had something he didn't, some knowledge he didn't possess. Suddenly his sweetest smile came out, his tone gentle, even downright friendly. Like an old friend. "C'mon, Rachel. Last year at Sundance, who was there for you? The year before after the Oscars? You even remember that?"

Rachel's eyes danced; from Theo, back to Michelle, back to Theo again. His eyes followed, and for the first time, seemed to see Michelle. "...hey." Then back again to his prey, like a bloodhound who couldn't be shaken from the trail. "What is it? Is she here?"

She but pointed in the direction of the back of the bar's main room. He followed, moved a few steps to the left, peeked...and grinned like Lucifer in the middle of a deal at the crossroads. When he came back to Rachel, he was quiet, hushed, careful not to be overheard...but the excitement in the mortal man was impossible to contain in full. "The motherfuckin' Don herself is here! How do I look?...better than your dyke ass lookin' friend here, huh? I'mjustkidding. Whew."

"Go away, Theo."

Gone he was, approaching Eva's back booth like a peasant to a King, humble, respectful, as charming as he could possibly be--which was surprisingly charming, when Theo wanted to be. Eva would see through it, but there's no telling what she might decide; it didn't matter to Eva who the better actor was. It mattered to Eva who was better for the movie in question. Who was best for the overall project, which would contribute to making the piece of art as good as it could be. Sometimes the politics of Hollywood, and mortal celebrities, got in Eva's way of artistic perfection. Most the time, however, it didn't.

"Anyway. I have to apologize; some of these Hollywood agents you can't ignore, otherwise they'll hunt you down and make a scene. My name is Rachel, and if our intelligence is to be believed your name is...Michelle?" She waited for any sign of body communication that said she wasn't wrong, before continuing. "So I do apologize, Michelle, for the interruption. Reparations, right? Would would be best for you; a lump sum? Real estate, if you're new to the city and need a safe haven? We have a stilt house in the hills that might be up your alley; surrounded by trees, far from neighbors, not large but with amazing views and good architecture. There's also a few options in Malibu, those are even more private, if the beach is your thing? Whatever it is, I'm sure the two of us can come to some sort of agreement that would allow the Baroness and yourself to part ways from this incident without feeling anyone was uncared for."

This, now, was Rachel in her comfort zone: dealing with super agents, hammering out terms to a deal, etc.

Upon the Sunset Sea; World of Darkness RP

Eva, Andre, Rachel

---

"Get. Off."

The room stopped, the Elders off to the side huddling together silent and staring, as the Baroness of Los Angeles stood like a sentinel just behind both Hector and Michelle. Andre stood just to the side of Hector, Rachel standing further off to the side of Michelle--far enough where a raging Garou wouldn't be able to immediately swipe at her. The small army of roughs standing outside the Lounge silent, and staring into the establishment through the front windows, focusing on Hector, focusing on the Baroness, and waiting for Andre to make a signal.

Hector removed himself, Eva stepping in between the offender and the Garou just a beat slower than the sound barrier, her eyes on the Garou, her back to the dead man. "Andre, remove this creature."

Up and out Hector went, the Brujah battlemaster shoving Hector through the front door with no more than a, "Bye Felicia!" That left Hector and his bloodied mouth staring at a group of black and silver clad badass Brujah having already encircled him, more of them than the twenty that had been standing in front of the Lounge just moments before. A single beat of beatless hearts, and the beatdown began just outside the Lounge.

Most in the Lounge didn't see it; most sets of eyes were on the Baroness and the Garou. Eva smiled, cool, calm. "Rachel."

The small Ventrue nearly jumped, telling whoever was on the phone to 'hold on a second', "Yes?"

"See to our damaged friend, here, please."

Rachel blinked, and swallowed, hard. Looking up at Michelle, her eyes the size of saucers as she muttered quickly into the iPhone, "Call you back." The phone dissappeared into a pocket, Eva and Andre already back at the back booth, Gwen still staring from her seat in the back booth, whispering something to Eva. Something Eva only smiled at.

"Um, here," Rachel reached for the bar, finding Henry standing there, offering a clean white towel. Her eyes thanking Henry with more emphasis than the mouthed Thank you before she turned back to the big bad wolf. "Our apologies for the rudeness of the offending party," spoken like a lawyer, spoken with nerves, spoken like an awkward fish out of water and in much more dangerous waters. "Um, here! For your...uh, wound." Rachel handed Michelle the towel, on tippy toes and trying to get a better look at the wound, difficult as the scent of that blood made thinking straight. "If you'd like to sit and discuss ways for the Barony to make this situation right?"

Spoken as the brawl outside began to rage.

Upon the Sunset Sea; World of Darkness RP

Nathaniel

---

The Sunset Lounge was a common location, but with too much attention typically set to it's front door. Nathaniel knew other avenues, even if it meant using a long pinky nail to unfasten a steel grate, and push through while being careful to refasten said screw--the Native had made it quite clear the group didn't want the properitier of the Lounge getting bent out of shape, though no one but the Native seemed to know the whys, and she was being typically tight-lipped. He'd met Nosferatu looser-lipped than that woman, an unusually irritating trait for a Toreador, with all their pretty and flash. He would've muttered more about it, but getting out of the Lounge's basement freezer took precedent.

The black weathered to dark grey hoodie zipup sweater was unzipped, allowing a clean, freshly laundered, black longsleeved cotton collared button up dress shirt to peek from underneath. A strange item to pair with the foul smelling black trousers soiled with grime and overuse and age, but one of the damned Toreadors were responsible for stealing his appropriate smelling, dirtied, clothing and replacing them with cleaner, perfurmed, versions of their former selves. Yanci was too kind to do such a thing, so it left the bombastic blonde, or the Native. Considering the heavy artificial scent of cotton candy left behind in their wake, Nathaniel's bet was on the bombastic blonde.

"Staff Only" read the door he exited out of onto the main floor of the Sunset Lounge, dehooding to reveal a face as long as his jagged, yellowed, nails. Pale with eyes sunk deep, beady things that seemed as prone to violence as they were paranoia, darting here and there. He passed the back booths like a Coterie he belonged to wasn't sitting there, feeling their gaze as he passed, before the weight of stranger eyes distracted him from the weight of the familiar. He stole a quick look at the Native, so fast and so quickly moved away, as she rose from her booth and head for the touch screen juke box. Nathaniel snorted; he preferred the old style of jukebox. Then agian, he preferred the old style of everything to the current plastic consumerism versions of the modern world.

"Sympathy for the Devil" by the Rolling Stones played. It caused another peek from Nathaniel towards the Native; a knowing smirk on her face as she stared at the touchscreen. What did it mean? Everything with the Native had a purpose, nothing was ever random. She knew something he didn't...and there were precious few things in this world that irritated him more. Nostrils flared once, twice, before his focus returned to the mission at hand: the fellow Nosferatu sitting at the table off to the side, by himself.

"NATE!" the cotton candy scented annoyance called out, and he ignored it. She was teasing him. She liked to tease. But two could play at that game; imagine the disturbance a pack of rats rampaging through a private party hosted by the annoyer attended by Hollywood starlets and their entourages could cause? Nathaniel knew. The very memory nearly drove him to smirk. Instead bloody-gnawed lips flattened into expressionlessness, his thin frame moving into the seat across from the still hooded Nosferatu. Dark eyes met dark eyes, and after a few awkwardly silent moments, Nathaniel nodded stiffly.

"Trask. We have something to discuss, although I insist you keep this close to the ves--" Nathaniel abruptly stopped speaking, eyes narrowing as the scent grew closer and closer. Ignore her, it seemed, and you only dared drawing her closer and closer until there was no ignoring her. If the unlife was good, he would rip her throat out, and smile while disfiguring her gorgeous golden image, silencing her forever and ever. Alas. It was petty, it was petulant, but it felt good when he reached over to the chair situated next to him, and knocked it over before she could reach it.

He heard it picked up from the ground, and re-situated; closer to him than it had been before, backfiring on him. "Nate." The tall California blonde bombshell was suddenly in the seat next to him, interjecting herself where she was not welcome, where she did not belong. It didn't just irritate him, either, he could see the way Trask shuffled in his chair, the way his eyes moved here and there, suddenly, as the blonde put more attention on them than either wanted. But it wasn't as bad as what she did next, sliding her arm over Nathaniel's shoulders, and leaning closer and closer, big sparkling blue eyes on Trask, smiling sweetly, before she moved those eyes back on him. "Hi, honey. You didn't hear me. So I--"

"--I heard you."

The pout was overdramatized. "Aw, why would you do such a thing, Nate?"

"I can see why your acting career struggled. At least the one where clothes were required."

Pretty blue eyes narrowed on him. He almost smiled. Almost. "HA! I saw that smile. It was there."

"No, it wasn't."

He felt her index finger poke at the corner of his mouth, his nostrils flaring, his eyes twitching at the touch. "Right there."

"Go away, you insufferable--"

"--be polite, Nate."

His eyes rolled, a long, heavy, pained sigh coming all the way from his chest to his lips to the air of the Sunset Lounge. God dammit. "Trask, Gwendalyn Parker, one of the vampiric overlords of current day Hollywood--likely the reason they produce such mindless, but pretty to look at, drivel these days."

Gwen smiled big, ignoring it, long lashes fluttering a second as she extended her hand to him, palm up.

Trask's eyes briefly stared at the blonde from under his sunglasses. A handshake from such a pretty vampire? Formalities after all. He extended his right hand out, then grasped hers firmly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." He said calmly with a friendly smile.

The blonde's eyes stared at Trask's eyes even a second longer than the second longer than it should handshook lasted, letting Trask break the touch, not her. Only then did she turn to Nathaniel, and whisper in his ear a whisper loud enough for Trask to hear. "A pleasure, Trask, don't be a stranger...and you," she said, poking Nathaniel in his ribs, "behave yourself. You boys have fun."

He waited until she was gone to lean in, letting his voice lower. "My apologies for the pushy, daft, woman. I have something important, but you must keep it quiet, report back to me, and only me, Trask. I do not joke when I say this. Not doing so could be risking both our necks. Do you understand this?"

Star Trek: Shattered Mirrors

"They always said space was the final frontier, but they never warned us about the dark reflection to the universe we knew..."

Welcome to Star Trek: Shattered Mirrors. We aim for this to be a small group game that follows a Cadet Cruise for Starfleet Academy Cadets that finds itself in a dimension of space and time few have ever crossed into. the Mirror Universe. A dimension that is a dark reflection of the universe our characters know, pushing each Cadet to their limit, and perhaps past it as they look into mirrored versions of themselves. United Federation of Planets Starfleet vs United Empire of Planets Starfleet.

IC Details

• Game focuses on Starfleet Academy Cadets.
• Set after the Dominion War, in the main Star Trek universe.
• The storyline involves the Mirror Universe and Imperial Starfleet.
• Takes place during a Cadet Cruise; where Cadets act as crew of a starship.
• The vessel of the Cadet Cruise will be a Defiant class escort.
• You will play both your Normal Universe character, and their Mirror Universe counterpart.

OOC Details

• RP standard will be Casual to High Casual.
• Reasonable posting rate: one to two posts every week, at least.
• Character Sheets in the OOC for review.
• Post only approved Characters Sheets in the Characters Tab.
• You are assumed to be an adult by submitting a character for this game; please act like one.
• Applications may take a few days before a decision can be made. Generally issues will be resolved over PMs.
• GMs for the game will be @Chaotic Chao and myself.

Questions? Don't hesitate to ask.

Star Trek: Shattered Mirrors

"They always said space was the final frontier, but they never warned us about the dark reflection to the universe we knew..."

Welcome to Star Trek: Shattered Mirrors. We aim for this to be a small group game that follows a Cadet Cruise for Starfleet Academy Cadets that finds itself in a dimension of space and time few have ever crossed into. the Mirror Universe. A dimension that is a dark reflection of the universe our characters know, pushing each Cadet to their limit, and perhaps past it as they look into mirrored versions of themselves. United Federation of Planets Starfleet vs United Empire of Planets Starfleet.

IC Details

• Game focuses on Starfleet Academy Cadets.
• Set after the Dominion War, in the main Star Trek universe.
• The storyline involves the Mirror Universe and Imperial Starfleet.
• Takes place during a Cadet Cruise; where Cadets act as crew of a starship.
• The vessel of the Cadet Cruise will be a Defiant class escort.
• You will play both your Normal Universe character, and their Mirror Universe counterpart.

OOC Details

• RP standard will be Casual to High Casual.
• Reasonable posting rate: one to two posts every week, at least.
• Character Sheets in the OOC for review.
• Post only approved Characters Sheets in the Characters Tab.
• You are assumed to be an adult by submitting a character for this game; please act like one.
• Applications may take a few days before a decision can be made. Generally issues will be resolved over PMs.
• GMs for the game will be @Chaotic Chao and myself.

Questions? Don't hesitate to ask.

Upon the Sunset Sea; World of Darkness RP

<Snipped quote by Ruby>

Huh. I didn't realize there was actual precedent for this. As in, that there was canon lore. I've looked it up now though, and yes there is. I had assumed the Camarilla was in charge. Oops.

I'll rewrite some of the bio.

@cider

Thank you sweetheart. <3

Upon the Sunset Sea; World of Darkness RP

<Snipped quote by Ruby>

Not always. He's originally from northern US. He's been in LA for a very long time though, nearly a century. Do you want me to add that to the CS?

Also damn, I just noticed the "GM" and "CO-GM" stickers in the upper right corner of the posts now. How long have they existed?

@cider

Well, the Camarilla hasn't been in power since 1944, and none too popular. An open Camarilla agent like this character would either have to be Camarilla on the downlow, or publicly at least turn their back. Otherwise I'm trying to figure out why one of the big Anarchs didn't dust him.

Upon the Sunset Sea; World of Darkness RP

You guys still taking apps? I'm familiar with WoD from VtMB.

If you guys are still open, is there anything in particular to suggest, or can I just be anything? I noticed there's a lot of Kindred, but if there's still room for more, I was thinking of making a Tremere. If not, then I might try and make a Garou (even though I don't know too much about their lore).

@TemplarKnight07

We're still open. It's something of a sandbox, so you won't overload any storyline.

Tremere works, just realize the Camarilla is very publicly unpopular in the City of Angels.

Upon the Sunset Sea; World of Darkness RP

My CS on page 3 is now finished.

@cider

Has he always been in L.A.?

Upon the Sunset Sea; World of Darkness RP

Far as I'm understanding it, any final death=ash.

Anything less results in torpor.

I'd say the "red mist" of Bloodlines was simply videogame artistic flair.