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Changelings By Night

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  1. #1
    Ingrid's Avatar
    Striking Looks 2 "Ethereal"
    Retainer
    (Angus (ensorcelled mortal))
    Ingrid
    Ingrid

    Mein

    Very much like her Mask. However, her skin takes on a more reflective, rubbery texture and she appears... thinner... with limbs that are slightly too long and thin for her general proportions. There is also faint traces of webbing between her fingers and toes.

    (Changelings By Night)Willpower 1 Spent
    +1
    SL
    2
    PRE

    It is a night in late winter and darkness covers the slumbering city. While ordinary, whole, folk sleep the Director of the Funderland Freehold makes her move. Ingrid is a Darkling; sunlight is uncomfortable - a bane that she knows shall never leave her. Darkness, shadows, are where she feels most at home. That is why the Palewraith is out, dressed in drab street clothes with a hoodie bulled low over her ethereal features.

    The city around the little theme park is a mix of green space and suburban dream. Ranks decently lit streets, a shopping mall, and an expanse of green park and golf course. Take a turn here, and one might think one is lost in the country with trees pressing down on the tarmac.

    This part of town is no urban blight - which makes it difficult to advertise one's presence when one is one of the Lost. Tagging (on tree bark or cant wall) looks out of place; and there is no point in leaving trail signs because the curators of the golf course (or indeed, gardeners of the council owned parks) will blindly clean them away. Or worse, they'll realise their purpose...

    But Ingrid is going to try, nonetheless. She has to, as Director of the Freehold. She has to lay out signs that point the way for one never knew when or where a Gate would open leading a former slave back home. So far, her efforts have borne fruit - a set of tags that are detailed enough for her purpose, yet subtle enough not to be noticed too easily.

      
    Date Action Roll Result
    2018-02-09 02:42:03 Ingrid to tag! rolls 8 to Wits + Larceny (10 Again, WillPower) 10, 10, 7, 6, 2, 8, 6, 4, 9, 5 4 successes

    Presently, Ingrid pauses from her work. Her cans of spray are hidden in her bag, along with a fishing tackle box filled with stuff that could be used for trail signs and the like (and no, she hasn't used them much this night). She has found a good solid tree to lean against, whose thick branches obscure the harsh yellow street lights.

    There is a brief flash from a light and an effusion of blue grey smoke as she toys with one of her foul smelling cigarillos and enjoys the sharp coolness of the night air. There is only the quiet of the deep night, the rustle of branches and the occasional chitter of night critters that dwell in this island of nature in the urban sprawl.

    Alrighty then! A scene for everyone! Especially for new player characters: Verne Zyl John Doe ErlangShen
    Darkling: Palewraith |Spring Mantle 3 (Heady scent of plums)
    WYRD 3| Health: 7| Willpower: 5 | Glamour: 7| Striking Looks 2: "Ethereal"

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  3. #2
    V
    Verne

    Cloaked in Winter's Darkness, slipping past Moon Shadows and pesky street lamps, the Wizened escapee clutched his sack of treasures close. Dumpster Diving had gone well that night. It seemed strange that some of the things the nearby mall had discarded had only superficial damage but he wouldn't be sure until he got back home and had a chance to chat the trashed items up.

    Looking over his shoulder for pursuers, something caught his eye. Something out of place. Something... familiar.

    His blood ran cold. Gears behind the mask stuttered. His breath grew misty.

    Sinking back into the shadows, Verne, shattered survivor of a horrific war all but forgotten needed time. Time to consider. Time to plan his next move.

    The artistic marks on that wall past his shadowy bolt spoke to him. Spoke of Hedge. Spoke of Safety.

    They were an invitation. Or a maybe a Trap. They were most definite evidence that there were others like him about. Fellow Survivors. Possible Allies!

    The wee Hobs had whispered and giggled about a local Freehold but they made a half-measure of sense at the best of times. But HERE was corroboration! Or a Trap. It could well be a Trap!

    There were details. Directions most like. He needed to get a closer look. Was that part of the Trap?

    The Wizened Veteran listened to crickets and a hush of distant traffic. Scented the air laden with smells of a late night eatery. Looked for anything past the glare of the damned street lamp beaming near. Oh, for a decent sling shot. He resolved to make one a soonest opportunity.

    Verne leaned his ear to the ground, palming the cement surface in turn. Sometimes heavy marauders betrayed themselves with a subtle rumble or gentle quake with their thick armory. He sensed nothing.

    Rather then relief, his trepidation only increased as he scanned the sky for possible aerial enemies. He tried to remember what kind of dangers he was looking for but he couldn't force the recollection. Verne could only remember danger was sometimes airborne.

    Sighing, hugging his sack defensively, the Wizened determined to risk a closer look. This area didn't suffer such artistry for long. There was no telling if he might have a second chance.

    Stepping carefully from the shadows, he cautiously shuffled over for a closer look at the Fae Markings. All the while considering the best design for a decent sling shot that could deal with inconveniently placed street lamps.

  4. #3
    J
    John Doe

    1 success
    Date Action Roll Result
    2018-02-09 10:33:51 John Doe rolls 7 to Moving Unseen [Dex+Stealth] (8 Again) 7, 5, 1, 3, 3, 2, 10, 4 1 success
           

    Quietly, the Faceless One slinked through the night. Given his "meek" appearance, there was always the possibility that a mugger might find easy prey. Especially for the Lost, there was always the chance that his would-be assailant was more than met the eye.

    He was fortunate not to encounter anyone along the way. Then, he spotted the distinctive signage of the Freehold. Was it a trap? Possibly. Was it worth investigating? Yes.

    Doe stepped out into the open, approaching the paleskin wraith-like woman. "Hi, I'm John."

  5. #4
    Ingrid's Avatar
    Striking Looks 2 "Ethereal"
    Retainer
    (Angus (ensorcelled mortal))
    Ingrid
    Ingrid

    Mein

    Very much like her Mask. However, her skin takes on a more reflective, rubbery texture and she appears... thinner... with limbs that are slightly too long and thin for her general proportions. There is also faint traces of webbing between her fingers and toes.

    +1
    SL
    2
    PRE

    Ingrid was hiding in plain sight, puffing contentedly in a vaporous cloud of stinking smoke. She was playing: trying and spectacularly failing to make smoke rings.

    Across from her position, she spies an unfamiliar figure checking out her handiwork: a nondescript man who appeared to her sight very ordinary. That is, except for the flicker of strange familiarity about him; a vague sense of his Wyrd. And the change in quality of the air - faint at this distance, but unmistakable: the scent of winter. Verne Zyl

    The Darkling watched the cautious man as he investigated her sign.

    She was about to make her move when a second unfamiliar face stepped out of the darkness beside her. Ingrid positively jumped, attempted to cover the sudden movement in the action of dropping her cigarillo onto the ground and grinding it out beneath her booted heel. John Doe ErlangShen

      
    Date Action Roll Result
    2018-02-09 23:38:48 Ingrid to hide her surprise rolls 5 to Manipulation + Subterfuge (10 Again) 7, 9, 6, 8, 5 2 successes

    She had precious seconds to fix a smile to her face and a purr to her voice. Precious seconds to make a double take on this new figure with its featureless 'face' and curious liquid skin that caught the light. Other than the nature of his Mein, the figure was that deferential and small that her eyes desired to slide right off him. Her? Him.

    "Well. Look at you," Ingrid purred. "Nice night for a walk, don't you say. You can call me Ingrid. You Lost?" Which was pretty obvious. Ingrid's mind stumbled for words. Poor choice but there were multiple meanings. "He a friend of yours?" The Director's eyes were sliding off John despite her best efforts.

    After all, they had to be a pair, right? Surely two unknown Changeling's would not simply appear the moment she laid out some breadcrumbs!
    Darkling: Palewraith |Spring Mantle 3 (Heady scent of plums)
    WYRD 3| Health: 7| Willpower: 5 | Glamour: 7| Striking Looks 2: "Ethereal"

  6. #5
    Circe's Avatar
    Scene Stats
    Striking Looks
    (Exotic)
    Presence
    Mantle Dry Heat
    Circe

    Merit-Striking Looks (exotic)
    Mein:

    Her skin turns a slate-blue and her hair bone white. The whites of her eyes are blood red, the irises are purple with cat-slit black pupils. The helix of her ears elongate out 2" inches ending in a tip. Her features sharpen and her figure has an unnatural, inhuman litheness that can be intellectually disturbing.
    Scenes

    IDK
    CSbb
    Mask

    Her skin brings to mind Mediterranean, Middle Eastern, or Asian races, though her high cheek bones and sharp facial structure don't match. Most assume she is of mixed ancestry given the pale blonde hair. Alias Mary Maniscalo.
    Circe Scenes
     
      Rage singing, no work with Ozzy, Shake the shanty
     

    +1
    SL
    3
    PRE

    Tagging, a time honored tradition of the underclasses and a guide to changelings in the know enough to recognize it. Circe guessed they did need increased numbers as the Director seemed intent on doing this. By herself, at night, alone.


    Circe had to applaud Ingrid's bravery for that. Circe would've assisted but she'd had to actually go and get supplies to do it with, now carried in a brown bag that matched her brown trench coat. Circe had caught up to Ingrid and what a surprise, the Director's plan was already working.


    There was something familiar of the faceless dude, like she'd seen that kind of thing somewhere before. The little guy with the sack was less memorable.


    Subtlety would have had Circe wait and see. That wasn't how she rolled. Instead she approached openly. "Okay Ingrid, I'm thinkin'," the Italian accent hit before the heat of her Mantle as she approached from behind the little guy. The elf barely refrained from calling him sack boy, "That yer good at this taggin' thing. I mean, lookit how fast it worked," the elf laughed.


    A slate grey hand was waved in greeting, a cheery smile on the Fairest's face, "Hiya boys, how ya doin'?" was asked as she walked past the smaller new comer, showing no fear as she confidently strutted up towards Ingrid.
    Fairest: Larcenist | WYRD 2| Mantle: Dry Desert Heat |Health: 8 | Willpower: 5 | Glamour: 7

  7. #6
    J
    John Doe

    John nodded in response to Ingrid. A pair of thin, silver lips smile, for a moment. "I was out for a walk and sorta stumbled upon a new neighbor." His nondescript face turned to the smaller fellow. "Not yet. Hi there, I'm John."

    A fleeting grey coloration darkened upon the area where his cheekbones should be. Perhaps he was blushing. "Oh my. I uhm." He passed a hand behind his head, "It's been a while since I've been in such good company with uhm..." His head turned between the Fairest and Darkling, "Such friendly company."

  8. #7
    V
    Verne

    With fearful eyes, Verne spun around clinging to his sack of treasures defensively. He had been careless.


    He eyed the exotic woman with the accent warily. What was that? European? She was foreign then. At least as much as he was. A warm wisp of dry air seemed to pass him as he assessed the potential threat of her.


    His eyes darted to the man introducing himself. It looked like a man. John, was it? Yes. He'd been very careless indeed.


    Something strange... Shouldn't his face be more... Face-like? He looked away as it reminded him of something unseemly.


    A flicker of light drew his attention to an ethereal young woman enjoying some sort of smoke. Not a cigarette. Not quite a cigar as he remembered them.


    Hah! He REMEMBERED Cigars. He wasn't sure if he remembered liking them though.


    Swallowing apprehensively, he nodded. He side-glanced left and right, assessing routes of escape or advantage should desperation seize the day. Or night.


    Yes. It was still night.


    "Verne!" He spoke abruptly, in an English accent long muddied by a century of service in foreign skies. "My name. Is Verne."

  9. #8
    Ingrid's Avatar
    Striking Looks 2 "Ethereal"
    Retainer
    (Angus (ensorcelled mortal))
    Ingrid
    Ingrid

    Mein

    Very much like her Mask. However, her skin takes on a more reflective, rubbery texture and she appears... thinner... with limbs that are slightly too long and thin for her general proportions. There is also faint traces of webbing between her fingers and toes.

    +1
    SL
    2
    PRE

    "Circe!" Ingrid replied, flashing a grin. "Told you this would work."

    She decided against moving, not wanting to startle the two Wintry Lost. The chilly breeze seeping from John was starting to make its presence felt. For the moment, the Vernal Sovereign ignored it.

    "Hello Verne," she replied carefully, noting the Wizened's peculiar accent. "Are you looking for a place to stay? Same goes for you, John." She paused to sneak a look at the Mirrorskin. "Long road, huh? Lotta folks just pass through here. You are welcome to crash."

    She then took a breath.

    "Circe and I are from the Freehold around the corner. Don't exactly have a lot but I'm sure we can set you up for a night or two. Or more, if you are looking to put yourself back into the world. How did you end up in this part of the world - if you don't mind me asking."

    Genuine interest blossomed on her face as she looked over the pair of newcomers: lurkers both, but marked very differently by their Seeming's and pasts.

    "If you feel uncomfortable talking out here we got a place around the corner where we can speak easy. And I could scrounge some food if you wanted some honest hospitality."

    Ingrid continued to speak encouragingly. Of course she would. Ever optimistic, the Darkling was not quite willing to give into her suspicions. The pair had showed up so quickly after she had put up her signs that it was surely the work of Providence.
    Darkling: Palewraith |Spring Mantle 3 (Heady scent of plums)
    WYRD 3| Health: 7| Willpower: 5 | Glamour: 7| Striking Looks 2: "Ethereal"

  10. #9
    Circe's Avatar
    Scene Stats
    Striking Looks
    (Exotic)
    Presence
    Mantle Dry Heat
    Circe

    Merit-Striking Looks (exotic)
    Mein:

    Her skin turns a slate-blue and her hair bone white. The whites of her eyes are blood red, the irises are purple with cat-slit black pupils. The helix of her ears elongate out 2" inches ending in a tip. Her features sharpen and her figure has an unnatural, inhuman litheness that can be intellectually disturbing.
    Scenes

    IDK
    CSbb
    Mask

    Her skin brings to mind Mediterranean, Middle Eastern, or Asian races, though her high cheek bones and sharp facial structure don't match. Most assume she is of mixed ancestry given the pale blonde hair. Alias Mary Maniscalo.
    Circe Scenes
     
      Rage singing, no work with Ozzy, Shake the shanty
     

    +1
    SL
    3
    PRE

    "Yes Ingrid, yes ya did," Circe admitted slowly, "Ya got it ta work." Her brow furrowed, "Goin' out alone. At night." Was that a glare? "Without anybody watchin' yer back." Her tone spoke of disapproval. Then a massive grin shot across her face, "Ha! Ya got courage girl! Knew I had a good feelin' about ya." Nope, Circe approved.


    Circe was amused thus far. Faceless was shy and blushing at her presence alone? The Fairest could have fun with this, "Quite friendly John, how much depends on what ya find fun," was her teased reply. This John didn't seem to be too timid, Circe almost crossed her fingers that the Iron Spear would have numbers for her to actually lead.


    The elf's head snapped to the small guy, right eyebrow and ear raised at his outburst. "Wha," and then he explained what the word meant, "Ah." Circe put on her best angelic smile, "Welcome ta town Verne. Ya and John can call me Circe. Since she," pointing to Ingrid, "Already did. Plus I got nothin' ta hide. And I got plenty of people don't want me hidin' things," she winked at the boys, teasing.


    "No pressure, ya don't hafta say nothin'. But if either of ya," Circe looked between John and Verne as she added onto Ingrid's inquiry about origins, "happened to piss off anybody in, ya know, a fun way I'd love ta hear it. Just sayin'." She then looked to Ingrid, "If ya intend for me to give 'em a ride, yer in luck Ingrid! Only two of 'em, so we'll fit in the little car."


    Circe was actually a little curious as to where the newbies were getting camped by the Freehold now. The theme park probably had spaces but it did also have mundane staff too.
    Fairest: Larcenist | WYRD 2| Mantle: Dry Desert Heat |Health: 8 | Willpower: 5 | Glamour: 7

  11. #10
    J
    John Doe

    Two circles darkened on the sides of his face. In the approximate area of where his cheekbones were, John was blushing. Dark silver lines, teeth, pulled back in a slightly embarrassed smile. "I would like a place to stay, yes. It's been rather cold lately, and I can only loiter for so long by the Dunkin Donuts before the moon pigs, I uhh -" slip of the tongue...

    "I mean the cops get called on me. There's a really nasty patrolman. Sorry if either of you are cops."

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