Sini

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

Still accepting by the way!

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

Jonathan Corbett
(formerly Jaoseph de Corbet), also known as Johnny Rook
Age: 909 / 30 (forever 31)

Species: Kindred, 7th or 8th generation Ventrue (sources differ and Jonathan is unlikely to debunk useful mystery)

Blood type: Being embraced in a time of war and at the site of a siege, has directly determined the herd he may feed upon. It has to be someone who has served as a soldier or policeman/-woman, or done bloody violence, and to a lesser extent someone who has wielded a weapon.

Personality

Personality:
Jonathan has been around for a long time, yet does not rank as an Elder in the traditional sense. His period of ‘leave’ over the past 300 years marks him more as an Ancilla. Yes, he has his own modest powerbase and agenda, but is more focused on upholding the traditions of Camarilla. This is all tempered by his own sense of what is right and Ventrue heritage. Jonathan believes in order and privilege, things which support his unlifestyle. From his time as an Anglo-Norman knight and baron, or as Mithras’ aedile and enforcer, there are certain things he feels entitled to do, claim and own. Above all, disloyalty and vulgarity disgust him, and manners are everything.

While other Ventrue have capitalised on the changes of the modern world, swapping out feudalism and nobility for majority shares and backroom politics, Jonathan oft-times finds it hard to do so. He can be set in his ways. His expectations can be outdated or anachronistic. Indeed, power and money go hand in hand, but true power comes from strength and a sense of duty. Instead, ironically perhaps, he sees organised crime and fringe-groups like motorcycle gangs for example as a more ‘kindred’ continuation of the feudalism and patronage of his formative decades. While sympathetic to some of such outlaws, he has as yet not got into bed with them. Jonathan prefers making his own way, and seeks a level of independence while remaining loyal to the Six Traditions and the Masquerade.

He has strayed from the Road of Kings, and dabbled gleefully in the Road of Sin, travelled extensively and met great kine and Kindred alike. While he adheres to a personal code constructed piecemeal from life and death’s experiences, Jonathan is a true Ventrue at unbeating heart with his own look on unlife, but loyal to the principles of the Masquerade. Superior beings they might be, Kindred must protect themselves from lesser ones. With an illustrious bloodline like his comes responsibility for those you claim to rule. Camarilla and the Masquerade, to Jonathan, represents security in a stratified and existential way. He upholds the latter if not necessarily the former. Jonathan himself represents an old-school vampire domain, though it is much larger than the old Rule of 1,001 Nights, officiously if not officially part of Camarilla offering some direly needed stability to volatile Los Angeles. Disappointed and disillusioned by his elders, he wants to create something of his own.

Biography

Biography:
Born in 1111 in the night of the thirtieth of April and the first of May, also known as Walpurgis Night, Jaoseph de Corbet’s birth was auspicious. The Saint was supposed to protect against a number of infantile diseases as well as witchcraft, and indeed Jaoseph survived into adulthood in spite of skyrocketing medieval child mortality rate.

Growing up at a time when state and Church frequently clashed over jurisdiction and consolidation of (secular) power, young Jaoseph was put through the crucible that was a Norman’s upbringing. Fifty years on since William’s conquest of England, and with his son Jonathan I Beauclerc firmly ensconced upon the throne, none of the rigours of knightly training had vanished. From a young age, family values and the ideas of legacy were instilled in Jaoseph, as he was a scion of a noble house descendant of Norse settlers which then won fame for supplying one of William the Conqueror’s companions.

Beauclerc’s reign would not last forever, however, and with the death of a king and a lack of an heir apparent, England descended into chaos. The period during which Jaoseph came of age was aptly named “The Anarchy” in which England and Normandy tore themselves apart in a dynastic conflict that would last until 1153. Jaoseph, however, officially died in 1142 during the Siege of Oxford. It was not an arrow, sword or spear that lethally pierced his skin, but fangs.

Mithras had awoken after a battle was fought over his resting place in 1069, although he had not returned to London until 1085. When he returned, he found the Romans gone, replaced by the Normans and the Cainites ruled over by a triumvirate of elders. Attempts to rebuild his cult and influence initially met stiff resistance from other Cainites, but through subterfuge and manipulation, he was able to clear his path to power, eventually regaining acceptance as the lord of the Court of Avalon just as mortal society stabilized under Jonathan II in the 1150s. Mithras re-ascended as monarch of the Baronies of Avalon in 1154. It had taken him nigh on a century to reclaim pride and place.

It was during this process that Mithras and his coterie shopped around for prospects worthy to bolster their ranks. One of which they found in the Anglo-Norman Jaoseph de Corbet. Jaoseph, embraced by a childe of Marcus Verus (he himself a childe of Mithras), easily adapted to the semi-feudal society that characterised the midnight aristocracy.

Forever pushed to prove worthy of his adventurous heritage, he participated in the Second Crusade as an agent of Mithras (1147) as initiation into his new unlife and spent considerable time in Outremer and Constantinople. He even met the venerate Belisarius. In 1170 Jaoseph had returned to England to aid the alliance between the Toreador and Ventrue as to oust the Einherjar from Ireland. The attempt was only semi-successful, and he spent the following decades as an itinerant between Constantinople, Rome, Aachen, ... Later he served as an enforcer of Avalon which pitted him against political opponents like the Scottish Toreador or Mithras’ own “vassals”, as well as against the more feral Welsh Gangrel vampires or Lupines stalking the countryside. Jaoseph went on to soldier in the War of the Princes against the rebellious Angevin Toreador (starting in 1204). Operating as a go-between betwixt mortal and Kindred politics and society suited him. A first rift opened between Jaoseph and Mithras when the latter opened his privy council to vampires from across the baronies, yet left his own supporters unrewarded.

When the fifteenth century was in full swing, Jaoseph grew increasingly angry and disgruntled. The Anarch Revolt, the sundering within vampire society, the creation of Sabbat, the Convention of Thorns,… all these grated upon his nerves. When the Conspiracy of Isaac ended not in the scouring of the Giovanni from existence but rather in their elevation, Jaoseph was outraged. Mithras kept the Baronies largely out of Hardestadt’s Camarilla, though he accepted its basic tenets. The Blood Laws of Avalon came to represent the Six Traditions of Camarilla in their own way.

For Jaoseph, the damage had nevertheless been done. Mithras was losing control over his own fiefdoms, and while loyal to the Prince of London, Jaoseph started to look for something more than servitude. He was nearing an age and level of strength where he could make his own choices in Kindred culture. A first sign of this was remaining rather aloof during the tribulations wracking Mithras’ court and England as a whole in the 1500s and 1600s. Though he was pleased and involved with the 1693 Treaty of Durham which saw Ventrue supremacy established over the Toreador in Britain, Jaoseph decided to retire.

Over the next three centuries he spent time in torpor or leisurely travel, only occasionally visiting the British Isles lest he be dragged back into its political web. As such, he missed the boat during the Victorian Age quite literally, and did not set up his own territory unlike many of his peers. Even much younger vampires spread across the globe, creating fiefdoms of their own whilst he slumbered. Time and progress left him behind.

In more recent decades, specifically since the Summer of Love in 1967, Jaoseph resurfaced with renewed energy. It was time to catch up with the world. Drawn from torpor by the energy of the buzzing, sun-soaked West Coast, he set his hungry re-opened eyes on Los Angeles. A new world and future awaited, and so Jaoseph de Corbet received a much-needed update and changed into Jonathan Corbett. Another alias of his, Johnny Rook, became less known in the penthouses and exclusive clubs of L.A., but spread like whispered wildfire through the back alleys. In spite of his apparent adaptation to the times, he has had a hard time ditching his feudal and noble outlook on life.

What brings him to the City of Angels? Some echo of the old frontier spirit? The search for a manifest destiny? Legacy and a cause? A small kingdom of his own? Other than the rich hunting grounds and staking a claim for himself, does he even know? At the very least, L.A. offers a chance to build something free from the yoke of those that left him unrewarded for centuries.

NPCs

NPCs: TBA as needed.

Territory

Notable locations or possessions:
Jonathan landed in the Westside of L.A., making a haunt for himself in the eastern portion of the Santa Monica Mountains, north of Santa Monica itself. Largely, his sway extends outwards from the Topanga State Park. Northernmost, the Ventrue’s domain runs along Route 101, between the intersections of Route 27 and Interstate 405. In fact, one could in general terms drive along the borders of what is considered his stomping grounds by following said Route 27 south until it hits the Pacific Coast, then turn east on the Pacific Highway. It is the south and southeast where things get tricky, as that is where he shares a border with the Santa Monica Anarch baron.

Shirking up against the Voerman Twins, a clearly defined boundary was necessary. After civilised if peculiar and tiresome discussions, San Vincente Boulevard, 26th Street, Montana and Centinel Avenue, and Wilshire Boulevard demarcated the border between Voerman and Corbett territory. As such, Brentwood and Pacific Palisades comprise his preferred hunting grounds, with careful extension across Interstate 405 into the Westwood territory, as to have access to both UCLA and WLA VA Hospital. The latter supplies him with the sort of blood he needs to sustain himself with. He is very territorial where the Hospital is concerned, as it is essential to his survival and a linchpin in his existence.

The Topanga hills, then, offers Jonathan a forested and secluded area to retreat to in case things turn sour, while the Getty Center as well as Villa allows him to indulge in his taste for art and culture. This, paired with the park visitor numbers, local demographics, Sunset Boulevard tourists and variety of country clubs assures him of a steady supply sufficiently educated and interesting company.

Will add some more about his stances/attitudes on topics or factions.

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

Already wrote up a char, baby.

[WIP] Balick Arken, Medical Doctor - Genetics and Cybernetics

Bio is a bit short and you need to figure out if your character's named Baltic, Balrick or Balick. I also suggest you do away with the lists and instead describe the sort of equipment he uses. Regarding force techniques and other skills you should at least somehow explain how he learned them. What are his interests? What are his goals? This sheet definitely needs to be expanded on.

[Approved] Mideo 'Mid' Benara, Jedi Padawan

She reminds me a bit of Avatar Korra, even if it's a different franchise. This is a good thing.

Approved. Have fun.

[Deep Core, 6 ATC 4] Mission: Harvest Moon

Collem watched the alerts, messages, number values and reports with grim vigilance. A holographic projection of the ongoing ambuscade was played out before his eyes, making the control station glow in reds and blues. Things were progressing better than he had dared hope. So far, most of the plan had worked: most shuttles and boarding craft had managed to get through and get in. Operatives who had infiltrated the refuelling station were still intact and causing trouble. Fighters and gunships were engaging the enemy all over the board. The Republic had been caught with their breeches down, but their scrambled fighters were putting up stiff resistance. Soon, he knew, those Hammerheads would recover from the initial shock and bring their arsenal to bear.

“Tell Flight Commander Turan to watch those breakaway squadrons. They might try to get around them,” Collem pointed out a small party of Aureks flitting around on the hologram. Aside from the possible damage, those Republic fighters might try and get far enough way to get some message out beyond the jammed communications bubble. Watching the battle unfold, he recognised patterns, feints and probes. Like a director picking out the notes in a symphony, Collem analysed the space battle as if it were a dance floor.

It was time to face the music.

A communication officer stood ready to forward Collem’s orders. “They will be lining up for attack runs soon. Tell the captains to put their point defence on alert, and bring interceptor squadrons into position. I bet they will be gunning for the Ajuur.” He nodded as if confirming with himself. He pressed a button to bring up a direct line of communication with the captain of the Ajuur-class. “Purple Jewel, this is Captain Corvinian. Recall a few fighters from their engagements, set up a screen to intercept. They’ll be coming for you soon.”

The Purple Jewel confirmed reception of the command. “Copy. Captain Jarmand requests support. Considerable support.”

“Get the bulk cruisers to cover your sides.”

“No, sir. He wishes the Terminus cruisers to join the fight. One of the Hammerheads is moving into a defensive position.”

“That’s a negative. Reform the attack line with the bulk cruisers and engage that lone Hammerhead.” There was still a chance they would be able to win this without deployment of the two distinctly imperial vessels. That is, if they were able to put the Republic cruiser out of the fight soon, before the other two had had a chance to slip their moorings. He knew he was asking a lot. Keeping the corridor to the boarded ships open was starting to take its toll on the motley fighter squadrons. Casualties and losses were gradually mounting as more and more Aureks were scrambled.

“Damned foolish bravery,” Collem hissed under his breath, and felt a begrudging grin tugging at his mouth. He would have done the same. That Hammerhead was about to get a pounding that would crack it open like a crustacean, but it would give the other two the opportunity to get into the fray. “Any word on the asset yet?”

“None, sir.”

Jarmand’s Ajuur-class cruiser was reporting the first incoming fire. Damage was minimal, but they all knew proton torpedoes would be coming soon. “Hail Vaughn’s ship… and get our systems hot. We might have to lock horns with those Hammerheads sooner than I had thought. Notify Jarmand's Purple Jewel, command him to fall back a little and see if he can draw those Republic cruisers into range of our guns.”

[Approved] Mara Cessair, Sith Overseer

Hey there and here goes!

Her nails are kept long and filed into points, laced with a different toxin every week. Usually, they are believed to be non-lethal unless an individual is physically weak.

Sounds eccentric and none too practical.

She’s tried to fail through.

What do you mean by this?

Her methods vary from harsh, degrading words to using toxins with a various range of effects. Her toxins are difficult to find in the body and even harder to trace back to her since she teaches every student in her class to create different toxins weekly. Just because she collects the projects, doesn’t mean they can’t be replicated later.

How does the use of toxins on students advance their education? How does unknown use? I suppose you somewhat refer to it later on, in the final paragraph of the interview but I'd like some more elaboration. Does she always teach through pain?

With Lords and Darths, she will often take a more respectful and humbling tone toward them.

Humble tone, as 'humbling' means she teaches them humility or puts them in their place and tells them off.

[Approved] Jedi Master Dominik Rothul

Other than the numerous use of 'reflect' I think this is great. Go for me (someone else will review the force power levels in depth).

[Deep Core, 6 ATC 4] Mission: Harvest Moon

Collem kept a tight lid on his personal reservations concerning the mission, but he knew that Briar was able slip passed his stoic exterior – much like she would be able slip passed the Republic’s emergency scrambled fighters and flak. A commander was supposed to exude calm and confidence, present a bedrock for his subordinates. Nothing was as contagious as panic. He had seen one rout and one mutiny during his time with the Imperial Navy; vicious and violent experiences both of them. Collem cared not to relive anything like it again.

The blonde ace sashaying in her flight-suit neglected calling him by his rank or title, a personal privilege. It was not as if he was a stickler, but a certain distance between superior and subordinate had to be maintained. Collem was against befriending those serving under him. After all, it was hard sending your friends into the jaws of war never mind sending them to their deaths when the greater good demanded it. Briar, however, was different. There were other designs and plans in motion, things in play. Even if it was his old man pulling their strings, Collem admitted he was extremely fond of the blonde pilot. A rather considerable notion that, he thought as he reminisced of how whimsical she could be.

But not when she flew. Her concentration and skill were sharp enough to split atoms. There was no doubt in his mind as to her expertise in handling a spaceship, which was a great font of comfort for the Captain.

Even if his eyes kept on surveying the hurried but meticulous preparations for the impending strike, he saw how well the uniform suited her, how effortlessly smooth she moved, how her pony-tail swayed merrily. A woman in uniform… Why must she torment me so? He noted the other women in tight-fitting uniforms and the air of professionalism, and was forced to amend his thoughts. Women in uniform, why must they torment me so?

They stood close to one another, close enough for the omission of rank to be allowed. He grimaced, shadow flitting over his face as the mask of confidence momentarily slipped. “If they’re half as good as they think they are, we’re in the clear.” He had had little time to acquaint himself with the prowess of the elements at his disposal. Some he had been familiar with, others he knew only from military manuals, briefings and personal research. Most of those participating in the operation might had been battle-tested… but not by him. That made a world of difference.

She coaxed a wry, ragged smile from him that stripped away years and almost made him look boyish. “Are you referring to that business on Sarapin?” They had made it out alive by the skin of their teeth, and largely because of Briar’s skill with a stick. “Or that sith-spitting debacle over Lannik?”

For a moment he considered lying to her, claiming he had the full scoop on the assignment. Would that make her better at her job? Instead he clasped his hands behind his back and set his face. He saw no point in hiding from her. “Apparently I am on a ‘need to know basis’. So, you can be sure of it that several agendas are being served by this… helter-skelter OP." Collem sighed, numbing the anger in his chest. "I did some heavy digging before being told to cease. They threatened to pull me off this detail, but I could not think of anyone else remotely qualified to pull this off.” Conceited, perhaps, but also responsible, he judged. Collem could practically hear Briar playfully rolling her eyes at him. The lack of information and intelligence (the latter nonetheless thankfully augmented with the 975th's efforts) would mean a lot of people would die today. A lack of intel almost always translated in a higher loss of life. Trust had forever been in short supply within the Empire.

“I don’t like it one jot. After this is through, I intend to pick up the shovel again. This thing goes high up the food chain, very high.” The lights suddenly died, turned red as the air was cut into shreds by the horn. Even after all the years of hearing the blaring alarm, it still put the fire in Collem’s bones. “Right. On. Time.” There was nothing boyish about the grin adorning his face now. He made to turn but paused, then put a propriety-breaking hand on Briar’s shoulder and squeezed down. “I will be watching closely from the bridge the whole time. Good luck…” A surprisingly gentle look softened his otherwise stern features. “And… be careful, Briar.” He followed up with a very uncharacteristic thing to say. "No unnecessary risks... please."

Then he was gone, brightly spit-shined boots beating out a purposeful cadence in the crimson-lit corridor. Collem was already volleying commands into his comms. “I’ll have the hide of anyone not at his designated station by the time I make it back to the bridge,” growled the Captain. “Get the tractor beams running hot, all squadrons go, priority targets are their engines and comms.” If all went according to plan they would be muffling any signal trying to go out of the system, but one could never be too careful.

Soon the Imperial vessels would swoop down upon the non-suspecting Republic convoy, turbolasers and ion-cannons blazing and ripping through space to be followed by waves of personnel craft. Looking back, Collem saw the crews froth into action. His eyes caught the masked sith one last time before the door hissed shut. An epigram of some distant memory of a Kaas City play came to mind. Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war.

[Approved] Jek Harvester, Captain of the Imperial Navy

His looks is athletic and lithe [...] His hair, brownish black, lays to one side naturally

His looks are - His hair lies.

At his hip, an impressive sabre rests in a sheathe. It is decorated with silver inlay and the blade has been made with a cortosis weave, with the pommel and handguard made to curl around the hand in a half basket.

Seems a bit of an extravagant affectation. This isn't WH 40K. I'm willing to go 'sure' if a second GM agrees.

capitol

Capital

Captain Harvester has been, as of yet been unable to reverse the effects of the assignment on his career.

Jumbled sentence. Check tenses and structure.

Alcohol abuse

Is he a drunk or does he occasionally partake?

Captain Harvester has few documented interests, however of those few are painting.

That clause needs to be rephrased.

At the time, despite relatively light experience in command, Captain Harvester demonstrated his skill of command by engaging and defeating a small flotilla of pirates, despite the Intrepid having taken severe damage and being alone in the engagement. [...]While other officers of the fleet he had been assigned to suffered heavy casualties during an attack, Captain Harvester quickly adapted to the situation and attacked the rebel flagship. The rebels were not expecting the maneuver and the flagship was able to be boarded and taken quickly, the rest of the enemy fleet able to be quickly destroyed following the action and chaos among the rebel ranks.

These sentences are needlessly long and therefore difficult to understand. Chop them up.

A failed assault on a rebelling moon lead to...

lead --> led (and again in the interview)

professors

professors --> professor's

It wasn’t anything to fantastic

to --> too

Interviewer: But you survived? How?

Cpt. Harvester: I had been thrown behind a command console by the initial impact. I hit the body of another officer who cushioned me. He survived, I didn’t.

That would mean Agent Colfac is interviewing a ghost.

It is a petty squabble that came about from a mistake I made. Nothing more.

What mistake? What squabble? What are your plans with this? I have the feeling you want to explain through RP. Is that correct?