Avatar of Vermicelli
  • Last Seen: 9 mos ago
  • Joined: 3 yrs ago
  • Posts: 48 (0.05 / day)
  • VMs: 0
  • Username history
    1. Vermicelli 3 yrs ago


User has no status, yet


Hey there, lurker. Just kidding, I'm nosy too. You wanna know about me? Sure.

I'm a guy reaching the end of his late 20's and into the age where the human body starts to fall apart for no reason. When I was younger lad, I was a lone wolf full of angst and vitriol; now I've come to appreciate the value of company and connections. Over text my words can sometimes come off as matter-of-factly to the point of being bitingly sarcastic or even outright standoffish. This isn't usually my intent unless I'm joking. You'll know if I'm joking.

Writing has always been one of my earliest interests, and I always end up coming back to it even after lulls in motivation. Aside from that, I enjoy a lot of games, movies, D&D (my favorite class is Warlock), and tried my hand at doing voice acting for a while. I did a little C++ programming too; decided it wasn't for me. Other hobbies I'm currently looking to eventually get into are music and traditional/digital art.

About my writing style and interests:

I consider myself to be a jack-of-all-trades, master of none. As far as genres go, my writing mood will shift like a revolving door through classic fantasy, urban fantasy/modern, and cyberpunk (though I feel like a lot of people miss the point on what cyberpunk actually is.) Roleplay-wise, I'm not too big on romance, horror, or school settings, but I may still give them a shot if it fills a specific niche for me. On that note, a lot of roleplay ideas I have are definitely going to be "out there." As for why I'm not big on the three I just mentioned, well, I prefer romance in stories when it's only a subplot, horror is very difficult to pull off effectively, and there has yet to be a school setting story that can keep me invested. I have nothing but the utmost respect for people that can actually do literary fiction. Also, I don't generally do fandom RP's unless I feel it has a unique spin to it.

I love well-written characters and by extension character-driven stories. Worldbuilding is what I'd consider to be one of my weakest attributes in writing, but I thoroughly enjoy fleshing out characters with nuance and coming up with banter. I don't put too much importance on post length in a roleplay, as I myself prefer to keep things simple yet effective. I'd rather read a short 2-3 paragraphs that are impactful than a post that looks like a college student trying to pad out a term paper. I don't like IRL faceclaims, and won't allow them in any roleplay that I host for personal reasons. As for my ethics (not just in writing, but in general) here are some principles I try to adhere to:

-If you truly love and are serious about your craft, you have no excuse but to create a great product.
-Never rest on your laurels. It's hard to get back on the wagon once you get off.
-There's always going to be a bigger fish, so don't fret about "not being good enough."
-Never make a promise while under a good mood.

Hopefully that satisfies your curiosity about me.

Currently Hosting:

Status: Open

Most Recent Posts

“Ern, what the hell was that?”

Dave eyed Ernest angrily, who could only give a defensive shrug. “I swear, Dave. You should’ve been here the other week, her act was entirely different.”

“Just get me a beer while I figure something out. Knox was expecting to hear back from me by the end of the week. I was supposed to get someone he can use, not some dancing bitch who fell on her own ass.”

“Holy shit, you’re going to see him?”

“Fuck that, he’s a fuckin’ psycho. If I show up empty-handed, I leave with an empty sack—‘cause he’s gonna take my balls. I’d be lucky if that’s all he takes.”

The sound of his own heartbeat wracked his mind as he clutched his temples. He was in too deep, and now the walls were closing in. “You’re a fuck-up, David.” The words of his father rang in his head. “You’ll always be a fuck-up.” Ernest watched his friend with concern, sliding a bottle over to him. Dave snatched it quickly and downed it in a blink, desperately trying to grasp the first plausible idea that he could come up with. Like hell he was going out like a cornered coyote.

“Alright,” Dave said, his nerves dulled by alcohol. “Remember what I said last time we met up?”

“That we’re professionals.”

“That we’re goddamned professionals, Ern. And what don’t professional do?”

“They don’t crack under pressure, Dave.”

“Fucking right. Now, you mentioned before that you got insiders about that RFS job?”

“Yeah but—Dave, I don’t like where you’re going with this.”

“Well I wouldn’t be fucking bringing it up if we had any other option. This isn’t Plan B, it’s Plan Z. Plan Fucking Zed, Ern. You’re gonna hate what I’m asking for here, but if we don’t make a move we’re done.”

“…I’ll ask my guys.”

“Do that. In the meantime, I gotta duck Knox for a while. He won’t be too happy about me being late, but if we bring in a real ringer, I’ll at least get to keep my boys. Let’s get moving. Quickly.”

With that final exchange, the two of them parted ways and left the Heritage. Catherine bolted towards the exit at the end of the hall but would be stopped by the sound of chimes, and a sense of dread in the air. A voice then called out to her with an ominous warning.

“I know not where you seek to go, but you will not get far without direction.”

When Cat turned to the direction of the voice, a familiar figure stood before her. An old woman presented herself, wearing a black shawl and purple silken dress. Half of her face was obscured by a decorative mask, and in her eyes was a cold, solemn gaze. It appeared the night was full of ghosts from Catherine’s past. The old woman’s eyes pierced through her, as if watching two souls at odds.

“It has been quite some time, dear. I trust you are still in good health?”
Minerva stared at the door for a solid moment after Vicky left. Agares grabbed the pizza as the oven timer beeped, being clever enough to use the mitts hanging off the handle—a testament to Minerva’s discipline or perhaps a past mishap. Minerva spent the rest of the night in silence, trying to enjoy what time she had left before it was time to work again. For whatever reason, Vicky always insisted on seeing her in person when they had phones. That bugged the shit out of her.

In the morning, Minerva tended to the miniature garden she had set up on the building’s terrace, finding Shax nestled comfortably in a planter—just how he was the day she met the Natu. “If it fits, I sits,” Minerva could imagine him saying with his vacant stare. She picked him up and set him in the lowered hood of her coat, ready to leave the laundromat with Agares also in tow.

Minutes of traveling through the back alleys of Helix brought Minerva and her Pokemon to a building space marked by an insignia depicting crossed swords over a gun reticle. Den of Saints, her home away from home. A few knocks on the door caused the slotted peephole to slide open, revealing a pair of eyes.

“Password,” a voice demanded.

“An Abra sleeps eighteen hours a day, unless it’s leap year,” Minerva responded.

A few clicks of locks and latches later, and Minerva was permitted entry. Instantly, she was hit with the smell of smoke and beer, and met with the sounds of raucous laughter and merriment. Bounty hunters of all ages and appearances occupied the bar and billiard tables, with two trying to best each other at darts. The interior was decorated with stained-glass windows and remnants of religious iconography, giving the impression of a repurposed church. Minerva took a seat next to a grizzled man and his Marowak.

“Havoc,” Minerva called him by nickname.

“Mermaid,” he returned in kind. “Ain’t you comin’ back from your surfing trip a little early?”

“Isn’t a little too early to be decorating the floor?”

Havoc looked beneath the stool at the pile of crushed cans and shrugged.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere. Anyway, I’m guessing you ain’t here just to shoot the shit. What can ol’ Havoc do for ya?”

“I was wondering if I could get some snares or steel-jaws off you.”

“Sounds like you picked up a job we didn’t get a posting for. Nothin’ coming in but small gigs all week.”

“I’d get big jobs too if I had a FILE agent in my pocket,” rang out another bounty hunter.

“Only three months in and you’re already getting too big for your britches, new blood,” Havoc shot back. “Shit, you ain’t even got a nickname yet.”

“Yeah, well that’s about to change, and I won’t be needing a signed gig to earn my patch,” he responded. “I’m gonna be taking an open contract: the pit fighter!”

The entire den went silent. A collective of smirks and whistles followed a moment after. Havoc rolled his eyes and helped himself to another beer.

“The damnedest thing about nameless hunters,” he said, turning back to Minerva. “Is that it’s a pain in the ass knowing what to put on their goddamned tombstones. Take a good look at that kid, Mermaid. You ain’t gonna be seeing him again after he walks out that door.”

“About the traps,” Minerva continued with undeterred focus.

“Right. I’ve got a crate in the back with some spares. Help yourself.”


Minerva loaded up a duffel bag’s worth of tools before steeling herself for the hunt. Her own personal gear consisted of a set of knives that could be attached to a metal wire belt via a carabiner to serve as a grapple line, as well as pouches of powdered bleach from the laundromat. She was stopped by Havoc before leaving the den, handing her a weathered book.

“What’s this?”

“An old tradition we have here. You’ve been with us long enough, so I figured it’s about time. What you hold in your hands is a special codex passed down from saint to saint. In it, you’ll find our code of honor as well as detailed notes, sketches, and attached photographs from the other saints taken from some of their biggest contracts. Only thing we saints love more than cashing in on a big job is bragging about it, and you’ll see plenty of that written in the book.”

“You’re just giving me this?”

“Hell no. I expect that codex back when you finish your job. If anything, it’s there to help you get the lay of the land so you don’t get caught unprepared—that’s a saint’s biggest shame. In return, I’m countin’ on you to fill in some pages with your own stories along the way. By giving you this, I’m expecting you to come back alive. Don’t disappoint me, Mermaid.”

Havoc gave her a strong pat on the back before letting her get on her way, raising a beer as a toast. Outside the den, Minerva shot a quick message to Vicky, letting her know she was ready.
The pale moonlight reflected upon the canals of Helix Port, stars speckling on the waterways. Minerva leaned against the guardrails of a bridge, watching the view of the city come to life beneath the night sky. Shax fell fast asleep in Minerva’s hood, while Agares curiously watched a Munchlax rummage through garbage. A family of Ducklett swam through the bridge, breaking their single file to feed on oats an old man dropped into the water.

“Hey Agares,” Minerva called, giving her Croconaw a poke. “Do you think I made the right choice, coming to this place?”

Agares stared at Minerva for a moment before giving a confused shrug. Human travails proved too complex for his mind to comprehend. He turned back to the Munchlax who now waddled to the edge of the bridge, diving into the water for the oats. The resulting splash dispersed the Ducklett and earned several curses from the old man. Agares let out a guttural laugh—Minerva shook her head.

“Let’s get going. I don’t want cold pizza.”

Minerva slipped her hands into her jacket and waded through the sea of faces out and about. They all minded their business, and Minerva preferred it that way. She soon crossed into the more questionable neighborhoods and ghosted along the deathly silent streets. At last, the ChromeWash Laundromat stood before her in all its unprepossessing glory, with graffitied walls and several letters in the neon sign that refused to light up.

“Home, sweet hole.”

The laundromat returned Minerva’s greeting with a few crackles and sparks from the letters that actually did light up. She entered the building, automatic sensors activating the interior lights. The promised pizza was nowhere to be seen, only leaving behind a trace of its scent. A burglar, perhaps? Maybe another wandering Pokemon stumbled in and helped itself. The thought was quickly ruled out, as the room remained neat and tidy—as neat and tidy as she left it, anyway.

She kicked up her boot behind her and caught the knife she kept strapped to it, ready for the worst. Agares flared his nostrils and went into high alert. Other than the pizza, nothing else was taken. The Croconaw followed the smell up the stairs, with Minerva closely behind. Minerva found herself at the door to her accommodations, distraught when she noticed that whoever was on the other side didn’t need to break in. Carefully, she brought her key to the physical lock next to the electric scanner.

“Please be a burglar.”

No, it was “Hardass.”
A man in a sharp suit jacket sat in The Heritage, pulling up his sleeve to check his watch every so often. The contact was running late as usual, or by his own standards arriving precisely when he intended to. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder once more, as if trying to will the contact into existence. No such luck. The bartender Aurora set a bottle of beer in front of him before making her way back. The man watched her, admiring the view of her walking away.

“Whatever thought you have in that skull, forget it right now. Else I make you forget your own name with it.”

The man jumped with a start, turning see the club owner sitting in front of him, cross-legged and judging him with her head resting on her palm. He looked down to see his hand instinctively on the gun in his shoulder holster, but eased it away, fully realizing who he was looking at. No sudden movements. The last thing he wanted to do was piss off the lioness in her own den.

“Dave,” she greeted tersely.


“You behaving yourself tonight?”

“Like an angel.”

“So you’re a comedian now, too? Are you going to be on that stage tonight?”

“Hey, give a guy a chance, will ya?”

“I’ve already told off one person for conducting business in my club. I won’t use words if I have to do it a second time.”

“I’m just meeting up with a friend for a casual chat, no money involved. Honest.”

“Keep it that way. If you see me again tonight, then it means you’ve fucked up. Take care.”

Star disappeared into the dim crowd, leaving Dave leaning back in his seat in relief. Dave felt a tap on his shoulder and his body reared for a heart attack. His contact arrived with impeccable timing.

“Don’t fucking do that, Ern,” Dave scolded, sucking in his breath through his teeth. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to see you nearly shit out your own skeleton,” Ernest laughed, taking the spot Star left. “You looked like you were about to cry.”

“Yeah, real fuckin’ funny, cocksucker. I wouldn’t have had to deal with her if you chose a better spot to meet.”

“You sure it wasn’t because you were eyeing Aurora again?”

“Shut up.”

“Well, normally I would’ve brought us somewhere else but tonight we need to be here in particular. Remember the shit that went down at ‘Sleight-o’-Hand?’”

“Yeah. My insiders tell me it was done by RFS.”

“What you probably didn’t know was that it was a one-man job.”

“Get the fuck outta here.”

“It gets even more batshit crazy. Shots were fired, but no bullet wounds on any of the bodies. Some psycho actually stacked the body count with a fucking blade! It’s like something straight out of a fuckin’ comic book.”

“What’s the point of all this, anyway?”

“Gettin’ to that, Dave. You said you were looking for ‘special’ people, right? The ones you see talked about on Pasithee?”

“Yeah, and?”

Ernest gave a grin, and pointed out at the stage.

“Try to enjoy the show, Dave.”
Four Years Ago

The maglev ran smoothly on its way to Saffron City, maintaining its precise schedule. Ezra and Levin sat opposite each other in the cabin, playing cards on a tray table. Ezra reached into his jacket and set a sizable stack of golden coins on the table. “No fucking way,” Levin scoffed. Ezra kept a stern gaze and pushed the stack further towards the center with the others, not saying a word. “You really wanna lose your payday all in one go, huh?” Levin reached for his own coins to ante but watched his friend cautiously for a tell.

“I fold,” Levin conceded, deciding not to test his luck. Ezra smiled, scooping up the pot and flipping over his cards to reveal a terrible hand. “Fuck!” Levin shouted, earning himself incredulous stares by other passengers. “Fuck…” he muttered again, shrinking down in his seat.

“You were close,” Ezra laughed. “But you need to learn not to crack under pressure. Remember the job in Pewter?”


“No such thing in this life as a sure thing except death and taxes. At the very least guys like us can dodge the latter. Sometimes you just gotta go for broke. Another round?”

“Fuck off.”

A woman walked down the aisle and took her seat across from the two, grabbing a book from her bag to occupy herself. Ezra gave her a sidelong glance and a smile, shuffling the cards together.

“We thought you missed the train,” he said. “Would’ve been a shame if you couldn’t join us for the afterparty.”

“Had to take a detour. Too many eyes.”

“And the goods?”

“A hunter always catches her prey.”

“You had it easy,” Levin chimed in. “All you had to do was watch the cargo on a boat.”

“For two weeks.”

“Yeah, and?”

“That’s two weeks Minerva went without pizza,” Ezra said, standing up. He moved over to sit next to her, placing his arm around her shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll grab some in Saffron on me. I know a place you’re gonna love. When we’re there, we can talk about our next move.”

“Boss already has another job lined up, huh?”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s an easy gig. Nothing the three of us can’t handle…”

Current Day

The best waves always came in the morning.

Minerva glided on the water, surfboard at her side as Agares swam past her. The competitive Croconaw, eager to show off, raced full speed looking back at his trainer and not at the jutting rock he promptly slammed into. Agares crashed through the other side of the stone and rushed to catch up. The waters further beyond the shore foamed as Minerva approached, ready for the crest to form.

She propelled herself on her board and balanced herself firm, riding up and down the smaller waves. The Croconaw swam on his back alongside Minerva, electing to pace himself this time. Minerva crouched and gave Agares a rub on the belly, while he playfully splashed at her in return. She let off a soft chuckle before turning to the horizon where something caught her eye.

A hunter always catches her prey.

The grandest wave of them all took form, creeping up to swallow all in its path. Minerva chased after, and in perfect form trailed through the barreling tide, droplets of water glistening past her. No longer was there a sense of time, and memories of Cinnabar Island didn’t seem so far away. Then it was over. The waters calmed with Minerva left standing on her surfboard, staring back at the shore. Picking up on her cue, Agares swam behind the surfboard and pushed Minerva all the way to the beach.

“Smooth moves out there,” a man in an Alolan print shirt called to Minerva. “You too, little dude.” Agares placed his hands on his hips and turned his snout upward in a proud pose.

“Thanks for watching my stuff,” Minerva said. “And Shax. I usually hate having to ask.”

“No worries. Little man’s just vibin’.”

Minerva’s Natu nested himself in the center of a sandcastle, basking comfortably in the sun and in no rush to leave. There was no use in moving him now—he liked it there. “Shax, let’s go,” Minerva said, to no avail. Agares puffed up his chest and threatened to kick over the sandcastle but was met with Shax’s unnerving stare. “Guess we’ll get food without you.” In an instant, Minerva felt a small weight upon her head—Shax had teleported to her as a sign of compliance. “That’s what I thought.”

“I didn’t catch your name, by the way,” the man said. Minerva paused for a moment before giving him a lie.


“Well it was nice to meet you, Athena. I’m Shaun. With a ‘U.’ Maybe next time I’ll join you out there on the waves, yeah?”

“Maybe. We’ll see. See you later, ‘Shaun-with-a-U.’”

Agares spotted the fried fish stand and pointed excitedly at it, holding up three claws at Minerva. “You’ll get one,” she rejected, gathering her things. “We’ll get more later.” Agares got his fish, Shax was given berries, and Minerva bought a small cup of shaved ice for herself. Minerva spent the rest of her time enjoying the festivities of the beach—morning became afternoon, and afternoon into the evening.

The sun rested against the skyline, signifying time for Minerva to return home. She grabbed her phone and tapped “Helix Pizza” at the top of her list, right above a contact labeled “Hardass.” The first tone didn’t even finish before someone picked up as if expecting her. “The usual?” the recipient asked.

“The usual. I might not be home right away, just so you know.”

“If you aren’t there, we’ll leave it on your front desk. Don’t blame us if it gets stolen.”


Minerva looked forward to the end of her night, and the pizza waiting for her back home. Every meticulous detail of it burned in her mind: aged white cheddar and mozzarella, caramelized onions complimenting the assortment of mushrooms, and topped with shaved Parmesan and the signature helix swirl of garlic aioli.

Nothing was going to go wrong today.
You're more than welcome to have story beats along the way, as this roleplay is sort of a slow burn. It would've been easier if all the characters became acquainted with each other early on, but with the small group that we have I don't mind doing individual updates. I won't force interactions between player characters, so if it happens, it'll happen organically unless you want to discuss that with each other. Hell, I don't have dedicated GM characters unless you count Angelli or John, but they serve specific purposes in regards to pushing plot along and interactions—the story doesn't revolve around them. With our numbers being few, I as a GM can pay more attention to detail for each player character and provide for more character moments. Take the song I used for Cherry's first update post, for example. It comes from The Mars Volta album "Frances the Mute" where each song tells a part of a story of a protagonist who was abandoned by his birth parents and despite his efforts to live a normal life, he becomes overcome by anger in his journey to seek the truth.

I can say however, that each player character will likely meet the mayor herself before the story's end. In the meantime, even if your characters don't interact with each other, the decisions they make may indirectly still affect each other.
How fast the rounds have been going are likely par for the course throughout this roleplay, so don't feel the need to crank out a post as the updates happen. If you're unsatisfied with your post, feel free to remake it, just let me know when you've adjusted/locked it in because I don't believe I get notifications for edits. If you also want to make adjustments to your character or want to set up potential story hooks and arcs down the line so we know the direction you want to take your story, you are more than welcome to discuss that with me so we can set that up.

Angelli watched the rollercoaster of emotion being told on Cat’s face. Always lost in her little world, that Cat. It was a terrible affair to watch people feel sorry for themselves, let alone watch a friend fighting the ghosts in her head—for the supposed bored masses of Taygete. What a pitiful thing to be: a martyr for nobody. Stars were beautiful, but the night sky had plenty.

“Alright, alright,” Angie conceded. “I won’t keep you for too long. Don’t wanna make your fans jealous. Anyway let’s go get that… that…” Now she was the one wearing the frown. “I’m drawing a blank. I can’t remember why I came here. It’s this damn place, I’m telling you.” She rose from her seat, rubbing her temple. “Fuck it, I’ll probably remember when we pass by it. Let’s go.” The remainder of their time was spent with Angie dragging Cat through every corner of the mall. Hats were tried on, passing men were rated, and a photo booth was visited—such was tradition.

A large fountain centered the heart of the mall, fixed with its own glass aquarium of saltwater fish. Towering palm trees lined the corridors of the ground floor, and a single bird managed to find its way in. Angelli stared down at her reflection in the water for a moment, before letting out a soft laugh and dropping a coin in. She turned back over to Cat.

“I know what you’re probably thinking,” she said. “What’s ol’ Angie—a girl who already has everything got to wish for? Well, I’m gonna go ahead and keep that my secret. Maybe I’ll tell you someday. Y’know, when it’s appropriate.” For all that Angelli spent wondering what went on in her roommate’s head, she gave Cat the opportunity to do the same. A keen gleam in her eyes promised a payoff for those that dared to tread the road.

At last the two found themselves on the bridge connecting to the parking garage, and as promised, Angelli would not rob the world of Cat. “See you at the apartment,” she said, giving her farewell. Angie watched Cat walk away before almost working up the nerve to say something sappy.

“Hey, Cat?”

It passed.


“Looks like my first impression of you was right on the money,” John spoke, listening to Cherry’s voice rather than her words. “You really are an interesting one. Dare I say, my cup runneth over. I’ve been waiting for someone like you, someone with ambition. Someone with drive. Though it doesn’t look like you know where to start.” His voice hit a brief pause when Cherry mentioned the mayor of the city.

“Ol’ Mom hasn’t been seen in the flesh for years, you know. Any trace of her will is only expressed through the proxies who claim to legislate on her behalf, and her voice is only heard through screens and speakers. It’s got people talking. Got ‘em wondering. Wondering if she’s even alive. As far as a lot of people are concerned, she’s about as real as me… take that as you will. I must ask though, is there a point to putting blame on someone who may or may not exist?” He then waited Cherry to finish her tirade.

“Believe it or not, I’m not here to judge you or your perspective of the world. No, I’m here to help you indulge in whatever you plan to do—so long as I get what I want in the end. Suffice to say, a man can’t hold much of an opinion of a world he can no longer interact with.” John’s hollow eyes intensified as he observed each sentiment in Cherry’s movements. “You on the other hand, you want to change the world. You want to start a revolution from the ground up. That’s not something you can accomplish on your own. Wars aren’t won by a single person, and there’s people out there who think like you, waiting for someone like you to come along like I did.”

John stood by Cherry as she leaned against the wall, and pointed out of the alley. “Your people are out there, and all you need to do is find them and be the one who reaches out. You’ll know you’ve done your job well when all along… your followers realize they never needed a leader.”

The train ride this time went without incident, and Isaac safely made it to Arche. With his savings and meticulous budgeting, he was able to lease a decently-sized office space near the Verdenview Apartments for his base of operations. The building was fitted with the necessities to double up as a suitable living space, with a personal bedroom and bath on the second floor, and a full kitchen equipped with appliances on the first. Isaac had been given a complimentary anthurium plant by the real estate agency, which was beginning to wilt.

The wall-mounted television remained on before Isaac locked up on his way out, now tuned to a Jackie J. comedy special. Isaac could hear the laughter of the live audience as Jackie J. went into his routine.

“…Y’know a lot of tourists come to Taygete and spend their entire vacation in Taygete Bay. Just nowhere else but Taygete Bay. ‘We don’t want the rest of the city, just give us the fuckin’ beach.’ And as anyone who lives here knows, Taygete Bay is the place you go when you’re young, drunk, and stupid. That’s the place you go when you wanna make terrible decisions. You’ll see plenty of titties there too—both male and female. You guys stay the hell away from Taygete Bay…”

A warm bed awaited Isaac upstairs, offering to soothe the injuries he sustained tonight. He had only the company of whatever he chose to furnish his quarters with, but maybe he liked it that way.
Angelli Moreno, Road Captain for the Iron Valkyries in The Taygete Project

What do you like to do for fun?

"Like the other Valks, I like my beers cold and my music loud. We can be a rambunctious bunch, and stirring up trouble is always a good time. If I'm winding down, I'm either posting brutally honest reviews on Pasithee or enjoying some billiards. What I love most is finding scenic routes I can take my motorcycle through."

What qualities do you like in a person?

"Honesty and courage go a long way for me. I mean that in the sense that I have respect for those who aren't afraid to wear their true colors on their sleeve and stand up for their ideals. In Taygete, you'll find no shortage of people who will lie and backstab just to get ahead, and that's not even talking about the Herse District. Sad part is, most of the victims of it just let it happen."

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

"Shoulda asked me that a couple of years ago. I had something I wanted to change about myself, and I've already changed it. Before the Valks, I was the kind of person that was expected of me. Looking back, it's hard to believe I was a fucking yuppie. You wanna know what it's like working for those corporate assholes? Not for a single second do they ever want you to believe that you're actually worth something. They'll say whatever it takes to keep you under their thumb and discourage anything that they perceive as a threat to the status quo. Back then, I wanted to change all the doubts I had about myself. Now? I leave them all dead and buried."

If you could go anywhere, where would you go?

"Ain't nothin' holding me back, sugar. I already ride wherever I wanna go. My dad took me with him during some of his business trips when I was younger, so I've already had my fill of the outside world."

What is your favorite food, and why?

"A lot of people swear by the steak burger at The Heritage, but I personally prefer the hot wings at the O'Sullivan's. Nobody can resist the wings. Nobody."

When do you do your best work? In other words are you an early bird or a night owl?

"Most of the action in my uh... current line of work happens at night, but I'm not picky. If I ever wanna be a bad bitch, all I gotta do is wake up."

Who's had the biggest influence on your life?

"Prez, hands down. She was the one who found me when I was at my lowest and took me in—helped me be who I am today. The other Valks didn't take too well to me at first, but I got my chance to prove myself and I did. I owe a lot to her and I don't think I can ever pay her back for all she's done for me."

What gives you purpose in life? What drives you?

"Sounds like a spiritual question, and I'm not really a spiritual person. I wanna say I'm happy where I am in the Iron Valkyries. We all take care of our own here and a lot of the newbies look to me like an older sister. It's nice when others can place their confidence in you."

How do you feel about your family?

"I think I just answered this question. Oh, you mean my biological family. By functional standards, I'd say we get along well enough. Never had any serious issues with my dad, but my older brother questions the kind of path my life is heading in. As for my mom, it's hard to say. I'll get back to you on that if I can ever manage to separate her from a bottle of wine long enough to get a heart-to-heart going."

Do you have any particularly noteworthy Allies or Enemies?

"Don't have anyone in my corner other than the Valks. Oh, and my roommate Cat. I'd go to bat for her any day. As for enemies, we have our fair share of rivals, but the suits are on my personal shitlist."

What's your pet peeve?

"Too many to count. If I had to give an example, it'd be people who like to flaunt their wealth. If you ever find yourself in Taygete, don't brag about your bankroll like someone isn't going to fuck you up and take it from you just to teach you a lesson. Because they just might."

After a stressful day, what calms you down?

"On rough days, you'll find me at O'Sullivan's, slamming back some cold ones and shoveling wings. I don't really sweat the small stuff, though."

What is your favorite animal?

"Chicken. They're delicious."

What are your hobbies?

"Ask anyone, I play a mean game of pool. Not so much at O'Sullivan's anymore—That creep Jeremy is always trying to stare at my ass, especially when I'm trying to lean in for a close pocket shot. Jeremy, if you're listening, fuck you. Everyone knows you got crabs when you went out of town last week."

If you suddenly came into a lot of money, what would you spend it on?

"Assuming I don't lose it all at the poker table? I'd probably get a nice house with a swimming pool. If I have enough left over, I'd hire a bunch of people to follow my old bosses around all day and have them just stare at them."

How much time do you have left to live?

"You serious? Are people born with expiration dates tattooed on them where you're from? Last I checked, I wasn't a replicant."

What would you dress up as for Halloween, or your world's equivalent thereof?

"Slutty nurse."

What is your favorite scent?

"I went from liking the smell of perfume to liking the smell of gasoline. Comes with the territory, I suppose."

What's your favourite season?

"Spring or autumn. It's a bitch to ride a motorcycle during winter, and you wouldn't believe how sweaty it gets under all this leather during the summer.

Who do you consider closest to you?

"Some of these questions are starting to get a little redundant. Like I said, it'd have to be Prez. She's a sister to me."

What power do you desire the most?

"I used to think life would be a lot easier if I could read minds. It lost its appeal when I stopped caring what others thought."

How much wood would a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood?

"However much it damn well pleases."

There is no question. Merely differing paths to a preconceived answer.

"Waiter? I'd like a new fortune cookie. This one's defective."

What are you most afraid of?

"Losing that which gives me purpose."

What would it take to get you to commit murder?

"You're asking someone who sees blood almost on the daily. My answer? Not a whole lot. I once iced a guy for scratching my bike."

What is your personal definition of love?

"Open roads with the wind at my back. I can't even begin to describe a more cathartic feeling."

Got any siblings/sibling figures of your own? How's your relationship with them?

"Got an older brother. He hasn't looked at me quite the same when I threw away my last job at an office. As far as sibling figures go, the Iron Valkyries themselves are a sisterhood."

Do you collect anything?

"Some people owe debts to the Valks, and I collect on them. That count?"

What advice would you have for your younger self?

"Don't take criticism from people you wouldn't take advice from."

If it was to protect something, someone or the world- for any reason whatsoever- would you suffer any punishment? Would you sacrifice yourself to save someone or something else?

"Whatever it goddamn takes."

If you only had one day left to live, how would you spend it?

"Honey, I already live each day like it's my last. Not a damn thing would change. I believe the Taygete Shoegazers have a motto they live by. 'Live fast, eat ass.' Wait, what do you mean that's not it? It's actually 'Live for free, forever?' That's fucking stupid, I like mine better."

"My turn to ask, right? Alright. You can learn a lot about a person by the music they listen to. What are your favorite songs?"
No need to apologize, I appreciate the communication nonetheless. I was going to make the leader of this group of thugs an established character, so I’ll be in control of him. I can tell you what he’d say in response to what Isaac would say or we could work on a collab post in DMs.
© 2007-2023
BBCode Cheatsheet