@HeySeuss If you want to veto Parry's actions in the last post, let me know and I will edit accordingly!
Trinais Member
STATUS: To all my RP buddies, I'm gearing up for Camp Nanowrimo in July! My RPs will be slowing down this month and next. PM me for a quick response to an RP I'm in! 11 yrs ago
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- Trinais 12 yrs ago
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11 yrs ago
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To all my RP buddies, I'm gearing up for Camp Nanowrimo in July! My RPs will be slowing down this month and next. PM me for a quick response to an RP I'm in!
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11 yrs ago
Back to the grind! Unavailable to post from 3:30 to 10:30 PM EST! Your Fortune: You will find something lost long ago!
11 yrs ago
Working tonight! Unavailable to post from 3:30 to 10:30 PM EST! Stay classy, Guildies!
11 yrs ago
Work tonight! I'll be unavailable to post from 3:30 to 10:30 PM EST! Will check threads and posts during breaks.
11 yrs ago
Work tonight! I'll be unavailable to post from 3:30 to 11 PM EST!
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Bio
Roleplay addict, I work two jobs which unfortunately cuts back on my roleplay time.
In my limited free time I GM one ONLY WAR tabletop game, play a shopaholic Zeltron in a Star Wars game, and try to resist the urge to write long stories as the aftermath usually plunges me into a dark and unhappy depressed state.
Or maybe that's normal!
In my limited free time I GM one ONLY WAR tabletop game, play a shopaholic Zeltron in a Star Wars game, and try to resist the urge to write long stories as the aftermath usually plunges me into a dark and unhappy depressed state.
Or maybe that's normal!
Most Recent Posts
Parry did not take to the group's berating him well. Not at all. In his mind, the lawyer was a flawlessly qualified and safe companion for having bailed Parry out of jail on de Lacy's orders, putting up with his admittedly dramatic whining over the outfit, and to top it all off, not billing him at a Paranormal rate for her services. She'd done it at human rate- practically pro-bono. de Lacy was willing to spring Parry's bail, but the Celestial had to pay for his own mistakes. Fair enough.
And then there was that hunter. Mmmmmmmm-mmmmm! Yummy! But the bunker wasn't a bar, and even Parry could exercise a little self control. So while he pouted over being on the outs with the group, the Celestial let visions of Gray dance in his head while he unpacked his change of clothes. A more formal black clubbing shirt, done by Gucci. The group was supposed to be sneaky about this whole operation and luckily Parry had grabbed one piece of black clothing before the daycare was destroyed.
Even as the group pulled up outside the Rusty Steak Knife club (and really, what kind of a name was that anyway? It didn't communicate flashing lights, dancers and loud music very well- more like a fancy dinner place where everyone had to wear nice clothes and guys in foreign accents made deals in dark corners- oh, wait!) Parry was stuck in the front seat of the van, pouting with his arms crossed over his Prada diaper bag. The vampires were coming and going outside the club, while well dressed humans from the West Side waited in line with their dates, preparing for a fancy steak dinner, overpriced and underfed, serenaded by a vampire with a Siren's voice. Or maybe an actual Siren. The humans would spend-spend-spend, Master vamp Billy Rikkers would rake in the cash from the food and booze. And the small vampire covens he controlled would keep giving him tribute.
Unless somebody upset the system.
Now Parael Magnus had existed for a long time. A long, long time. So he was occasionally capable of thinking like an adult. But there was a reason he was so good with children. That reason: he might think like an adult, but he definitely behaved like a child. He acted on impulse, went for self-gratification over self-preservation.
So while Parry sulked in the front of the van, left out in the cold from the group, Parry's mind seized on an idea that would redeem him in the eyes of the group.
Foolproof. Ingenius. Laudable.
Undoubtedly poorly thought out.
So Parry fished one hand into his diaper bag, grabbed the empty flask of Celestial blood, and slipped it into his jeans pocket. He unlocked and opened the van's front door, murmuring "Potty break. Gimme two seconds." Nobody stopped him since they were all focused on Tony and Flint and one of the vampires on the outside. So Parry casually and non-chalantly walked across the city street, to the front of the establishment where the vampire Maitre'd stood like an elegant bouncer and gatekeeper, gazing at this newcomer in admittedly expensive designer clothes, but clearly not dressed in a suit and tie like most of the clientelle he was letting in.
"I need to speak to 'il Duce', please," Parry said, deliberately using Billy Rikker's nickname among the covens. He might not come off as a vampire to this guy, but the head waiter would know Parry was in the know about who Billy really was. To emphasize his next words, Parry pulled the empty silver flask from his front pocket and unscrewed the cap, letting the scent of the dregs of Celestial blood waft up into the waiter's nose. "I have something he might be willing to, er, purchase."
And then there was that hunter. Mmmmmmmm-mmmmm! Yummy! But the bunker wasn't a bar, and even Parry could exercise a little self control. So while he pouted over being on the outs with the group, the Celestial let visions of Gray dance in his head while he unpacked his change of clothes. A more formal black clubbing shirt, done by Gucci. The group was supposed to be sneaky about this whole operation and luckily Parry had grabbed one piece of black clothing before the daycare was destroyed.
Even as the group pulled up outside the Rusty Steak Knife club (and really, what kind of a name was that anyway? It didn't communicate flashing lights, dancers and loud music very well- more like a fancy dinner place where everyone had to wear nice clothes and guys in foreign accents made deals in dark corners- oh, wait!) Parry was stuck in the front seat of the van, pouting with his arms crossed over his Prada diaper bag. The vampires were coming and going outside the club, while well dressed humans from the West Side waited in line with their dates, preparing for a fancy steak dinner, overpriced and underfed, serenaded by a vampire with a Siren's voice. Or maybe an actual Siren. The humans would spend-spend-spend, Master vamp Billy Rikkers would rake in the cash from the food and booze. And the small vampire covens he controlled would keep giving him tribute.
Unless somebody upset the system.
Now Parael Magnus had existed for a long time. A long, long time. So he was occasionally capable of thinking like an adult. But there was a reason he was so good with children. That reason: he might think like an adult, but he definitely behaved like a child. He acted on impulse, went for self-gratification over self-preservation.
So while Parry sulked in the front of the van, left out in the cold from the group, Parry's mind seized on an idea that would redeem him in the eyes of the group.
Foolproof. Ingenius. Laudable.
Undoubtedly poorly thought out.
So Parry fished one hand into his diaper bag, grabbed the empty flask of Celestial blood, and slipped it into his jeans pocket. He unlocked and opened the van's front door, murmuring "Potty break. Gimme two seconds." Nobody stopped him since they were all focused on Tony and Flint and one of the vampires on the outside. So Parry casually and non-chalantly walked across the city street, to the front of the establishment where the vampire Maitre'd stood like an elegant bouncer and gatekeeper, gazing at this newcomer in admittedly expensive designer clothes, but clearly not dressed in a suit and tie like most of the clientelle he was letting in.
"I need to speak to 'il Duce', please," Parry said, deliberately using Billy Rikker's nickname among the covens. He might not come off as a vampire to this guy, but the head waiter would know Parry was in the know about who Billy really was. To emphasize his next words, Parry pulled the empty silver flask from his front pocket and unscrewed the cap, letting the scent of the dregs of Celestial blood waft up into the waiter's nose. "I have something he might be willing to, er, purchase."
Wrench involves Parry going right into the club, so if Exie is already inside and shit goes bad fast (as it might entirely), it might be an excuse for her to follow up with the group.
Kidnapping, as far as I know. It's what they're set up for at this point.
Permission to throw a wrench into the plan, sir?
HERE!
Just need an update- Are we kidnapping or going inside?
Or does anybody object if Parry's out of control social life just leads him to fuck up the whole plan to try and deal some Celestial Blood with the Vamps?
@HeySeuss, I did mean for Celestial blood to be kind of like a drug, but the most valuable part of it to the Vamps is it'll let them move in the sunlight for a few hours. Very valuable to the master of the city if everyone assumes s/he's sleeping while you plot away at high noon, only to have them bust down your door with a few goons with AK's.
Just need an update- Are we kidnapping or going inside?
Or does anybody object if Parry's out of control social life just leads him to fuck up the whole plan to try and deal some Celestial Blood with the Vamps?
@HeySeuss, I did mean for Celestial blood to be kind of like a drug, but the most valuable part of it to the Vamps is it'll let them move in the sunlight for a few hours. Very valuable to the master of the city if everyone assumes s/he's sleeping while you plot away at high noon, only to have them bust down your door with a few goons with AK's.
Quick Question,@xcalx1dw!
Do you have a supervillain/plot in mind for the group to deal with, or is this going to be a case of "play as you go"? I have no problem with either, but I'd like to tailor any character I write up to your plans as a GM.
Do you have a supervillain/plot in mind for the group to deal with, or is this going to be a case of "play as you go"? I have no problem with either, but I'd like to tailor any character I write up to your plans as a GM.
Meanwhile, Ryan don't know wtf is up lol
It is the 41st Millenium, and there is only war!
The planet Corolis IV is a temperate world on the Western Edge of the Damocles Gulf. A bountiful planet discovered centuries ago by the Imperium, it was finally settled by a corps of Imperial Guard veterans of the First Tyrranic War. Its atmosphere is breathable, its temperature is cool, and its mineral wealth is abundant. For generations it has tithed agriculture and weapons to the Imperium of Man. But nothing lasts forever...
Rogue Traders stopping by the planet have been leaving behind strange writings in the common language, speaking of a "Greater Good" being spread by a nearby Xenos Empire, The Tau. Trading goods from other nearby planets, normally common in the markets, have suddenly stopped coming. And the planetary Governor, Orion Sentinel, has called a draft for new Planetary Defense Force Regiments to defend Corolis against the alien threat.
You have answered the call, along with your compatriots, and have been selected to fight in the most elite and beloved of the Emperor's mighty war machines: The Leman Russ Main Battle Tank.
----------------------------------------------------
This will be a military RP with an emphasis more on player interaction than the initial combat. If you know anything about the 40K background, you will know what it's like to pit an Imperial Tank against a Tau Hammerhead. If you don't know about 40K but like the idea of defending your home against an alien threat, imagine pitting a WW2 Soviet T-34 and conscripts against a hovertank firing a railgun, backed up by some basic Gundam Mobile Suits.
Against these odds, and fighting for a clearly corrupt government that cares nothing for you, against an advanced Xenos empire that claims to value every soldier under their command, do you continue to fight for the Imperium of Mankind, switch sides to join the warriors of The Greater Good, or pursue your own goals?
The planet Corolis IV is a temperate world on the Western Edge of the Damocles Gulf. A bountiful planet discovered centuries ago by the Imperium, it was finally settled by a corps of Imperial Guard veterans of the First Tyrranic War. Its atmosphere is breathable, its temperature is cool, and its mineral wealth is abundant. For generations it has tithed agriculture and weapons to the Imperium of Man. But nothing lasts forever...
Rogue Traders stopping by the planet have been leaving behind strange writings in the common language, speaking of a "Greater Good" being spread by a nearby Xenos Empire, The Tau. Trading goods from other nearby planets, normally common in the markets, have suddenly stopped coming. And the planetary Governor, Orion Sentinel, has called a draft for new Planetary Defense Force Regiments to defend Corolis against the alien threat.
You have answered the call, along with your compatriots, and have been selected to fight in the most elite and beloved of the Emperor's mighty war machines: The Leman Russ Main Battle Tank.
----------------------------------------------------
This will be a military RP with an emphasis more on player interaction than the initial combat. If you know anything about the 40K background, you will know what it's like to pit an Imperial Tank against a Tau Hammerhead. If you don't know about 40K but like the idea of defending your home against an alien threat, imagine pitting a WW2 Soviet T-34 and conscripts against a hovertank firing a railgun, backed up by some basic Gundam Mobile Suits.
Against these odds, and fighting for a clearly corrupt government that cares nothing for you, against an advanced Xenos empire that claims to value every soldier under their command, do you continue to fight for the Imperium of Mankind, switch sides to join the warriors of The Greater Good, or pursue your own goals?
Dammit all, but he hated Pack Night. Anton always got completely knocked off her rocker, the place became a mess, and Ryan had to leave early with everyone (full moon and all that), leaving Avery to clean up after this pack of mutts.
Ryan had been able to mitigate this mess by hiding Anton's "jet fuel" vodka in a separate cooler from the rest of the hard stuff. He couldn't NOT sell to The Backhouse's most lucrative customer, but Mori's dislike of the hard drinking was well known. So Ryan took the initiative in hiding the heavy stuff in the meat locker.
It was all well and good until his phone started buzzing.
Michael.
"Hey babe! What's up?"
"Hey hon, just calling to let you know I can't find the house key, so the front door is going to be unlocked. That cool?"
Not in the slightest. Aside from the usual home invaders, Ryan had a nasty feeling that, tonight of all nights, they needed to lock up the house. But he couldn't force Michael to stay home all night, not with his boyfriend already pissed and suspicious about the "Fishing trip" tonight.
"Yeah babe. That's cool. I'll call one of the neighbors and ask them to keep an eye on the place."
Of course, there was a loud crash of glass on hard floor, along with Anton's cursing from the regular booze cooler. Dammit all to hell!
"Listen babe, gotta go- I love you!"
"Bye."
Great. Not even an 'I love you too.' He was in deep this time.
Ryan snagged two bottle of jet fuel and hoofed it out of the freezer, shutting and locking the door behind him. He'd get to the broken glass later, but as he made it back behind the bar it dawned on him how packed the place had become. Full house- humans and wolves. Pretty soon the kitchen would be running orders out too.
"Anton," he said, putting one bottle on the counter and another behind it. "This is your cutoff point. Just for making a mess in the back I'll have to clean up."
Without another word, Ryan passed the second bottle of Jet Fuel to Mori. If the human didn't know what the stuff was, he'd get wasted in no time and not know which way was up. Mori would know how dangerous the stuff was to one's liver and tongue just from dealing with Anton.
Leaning in to Mori, he said "Boss, I, ah, I'm gonna be late tonight. Michael lost his house key. Gotta lock up before group meeting."
Ryan had been able to mitigate this mess by hiding Anton's "jet fuel" vodka in a separate cooler from the rest of the hard stuff. He couldn't NOT sell to The Backhouse's most lucrative customer, but Mori's dislike of the hard drinking was well known. So Ryan took the initiative in hiding the heavy stuff in the meat locker.
It was all well and good until his phone started buzzing.
Michael.
"Hey babe! What's up?"
"Hey hon, just calling to let you know I can't find the house key, so the front door is going to be unlocked. That cool?"
Not in the slightest. Aside from the usual home invaders, Ryan had a nasty feeling that, tonight of all nights, they needed to lock up the house. But he couldn't force Michael to stay home all night, not with his boyfriend already pissed and suspicious about the "Fishing trip" tonight.
"Yeah babe. That's cool. I'll call one of the neighbors and ask them to keep an eye on the place."
Of course, there was a loud crash of glass on hard floor, along with Anton's cursing from the regular booze cooler. Dammit all to hell!
"Listen babe, gotta go- I love you!"
"Bye."
Great. Not even an 'I love you too.' He was in deep this time.
Ryan snagged two bottle of jet fuel and hoofed it out of the freezer, shutting and locking the door behind him. He'd get to the broken glass later, but as he made it back behind the bar it dawned on him how packed the place had become. Full house- humans and wolves. Pretty soon the kitchen would be running orders out too.
"Anton," he said, putting one bottle on the counter and another behind it. "This is your cutoff point. Just for making a mess in the back I'll have to clean up."
Without another word, Ryan passed the second bottle of Jet Fuel to Mori. If the human didn't know what the stuff was, he'd get wasted in no time and not know which way was up. Mori would know how dangerous the stuff was to one's liver and tongue just from dealing with Anton.
Leaning in to Mori, he said "Boss, I, ah, I'm gonna be late tonight. Michael lost his house key. Gotta lock up before group meeting."
So mad with @Trinais. GET A POST UP! ANTON NEEDS YOU TO MAKE DRAMA!
Sorry! Sorry!
Was sick all weekend. Had to go to Urgent Care for my fever.
Alive again though. Will read up on what's happening and post today.
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