Who's that Player? Why, it's [insert character name]!

[somenotoriousnobleman]

So I was bored one lazy day (which by the way, happy May) and thought, hey, I know who and where my characters usually hang out in London. What about everyone else? Just curious. For some, this may be notably similar to the post “Your characters’ appearances?”, as some responders have listed their characters’ personalities, though I think all the internal traits deserve their own thread. As always with topics like this, feel free to add your reasons why. This post might as well end up with half the responses being Revolutionaries, but hey, give it a go:

Where do your Neathy selves like to relax, work, cherish their lives? Who are they associated with? Players? Factions? Anything inanimate, or at least presumably so?

I’ll start with my selves. a mere fool enjoys the presence of Zailors, fellow Urchins, and the occasional Rubbery Man. He is thrilled with anything adventurous, scientific, and artistic (though he is repulsed at the idea of a Bohemian lifestyle); so, say, Zeefaring, the Laboratory, and the Bone Market respectively. He is associated with The Clay Tailor Club, a clumsy but earnest Correspondent, and will absolutely never let go of his Gant Bowler of Fiduciary Responsibility upon any circumstances whatsoever. The Great King, like any respectable (and dreaded, but that is irrelevant) gentleman, is both intrigued and apathetic of Societal persons. As the “achiever of legends”, he is determined to overthrow the Bazaar and is very much acquainted with Revolutionaries. He supports the ideology of Benthic College, though the Laboratory isn’t exactly of interest to him. Instead, as a Silverer he is fond of Parabola, and is just fine whiling away the time seeking bones for reassembling in exchange of his services along with attending parties as one of Some Importance. He likes to twirl his Bejewelled Cane on strolls with a mere fool, and is strangely somewhat fatherly of his good friend. He flaunts his sense of humor and ironic scaredy-ness as a member of The Young Stags’ Club.

[Atlas_J]

here we go, here we go, time to ramble about my pc :D (thank you for the thread!!)

The Esoteric Correspondent is absolutely enthralled by the Neath and all it has to offer. Anywhere that promises answers to questions he wasn’t even aware he had, anywhere that offers new paths of discovery regarding the Neath’s history if not its very nature, he will be there. He is as likely to be expanding his studies within his treasured laboratory as he is to be trekking within the Forgotten Quarter in search of artifacts, or to be at zee, scribbling archae/palaeontological notes as he charts familiar waters again and again and occasionally dropping by the Khanate to bask in their completely different way of living (and to see real grass again). He also loves tracking and capturing creatures in Parabola, or going on campaigns through the Neath’s dreamed history therein, but finds it too taxing on his mind to do regularly. His newly-completed railroad offers even more avenues to explore that he often takes advantage of (he has a love-hate relationship with Moulin and the Hurlers). Most known to fellow players of the Great Game, it is not uncommon for his jaunts around different areas of London and beyond to be peppered with spywork.

For more leisurely activities, they are a creative at heart. They love their job as a Correspondent, as it is both an opportunity to put their quill to paper and to further their ability in the fiery language of the stars. Between employment commissions they write short stories, and when in need of funds their first destination is the Shuttered Palace to write a novel or compose a symphony.

(Nemesis spoilers!) He also regularly meets with his revived brother, building up familiarity once more, but the immutable knowledge that they will never have what they once did makes this equally soothing and crushing.

In terms of clubs they are associated with the Parthenaeum, mainly to both help fund their Railway and increase their respectability in order draw attention from their more… unconventional mannerisms and activities (I have used the Opportunity Card to lower Suspicion many, many times). In terms of inanimate objects, they almost never remove their Sun-Seared Silken Gloves; wearing them is their only way to feel the Sunlight that has been lost, and they habitually never bare their hands in public due to them being mostly burn scar tissue from overambitious Correspondence studies.

[Nolongeranidiot]

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh boy, let’s go go go, time to rant a ton! imma be honest with you, this might sound extremly similar to @Atlas_J ‘s pc, but that’s because we play very similar Characters-actually, i think ol’ jack and the esoteric correspondent might have be friends should they ever meet.

THE GREAT JACK WALKER loves the neath more than he ever loved the surface, and not just because he hated that place: all the wonderful places, the secrets, the culture of lands across the zea, the secrets, the fasinating floora and foona, the secrets, the unique weapons and armour he finds and the diffreant styles of fighting he studies, the secrets…you see the theme here. he knows shit. unfortunately, he has to spend most of his time in london, but there’s plenty for him to do there too. he spends most his time jumping between monster hunting, mostly for fun and a little for profit, partying with his partners and his friends and manipulating half of the important politicians in london too keep himself out of jail, whice barely works, but it does! he also enjoyes delving into the sunken emmbassy to Search for anything to sell back to hell, who he has a rathor unhealthley close working relationship with, but that is a secendery hooby.

speaking of monster hunting-that is his favorite thing! well, killing things in general, but monsters are the most fun, certainly! they’re dangerous in a way that surface creatures or humans simply cannot live up too: every time he kills a monster, he learns more and more about them-every time he almost loses a limb he improves, and every time he kills something new he gets to rip into it’s body and analyze it’s inner workings. he loves everything about his profession, for it appeals to the very core of his soul, and he wouldn’t swap it out for anything else.

in terms of clubs, he’s a member of the young stags, Although he’s starting to drift away from them lately, and in terms of inanimate objects, he often wears the shrenken down crown of a grand devil purchased in the fruits of the zee festivel which simbolizes, to him at least, power reclaimed by the masses from those who lord over them. he also has an infernal rifle he constructed himself in his lab that he carries by his side nearly everywhere he goes and an impressive collection of weapons besides, ranging from shives to garish fireworks.

sorry for the wall of taxt, i tend to eiter ramble or say nearly nothing and this seemed like a rambling situasion so…

[somenotoriousnobleman]

Ah, no, no, you’re free to ramble here.

[Nolongeranidiot]

Picked a number of mood images for him! Wasn’t able to find many that fit the vibe without using “”“”“ai”“”", and as i’d rather die than do that I decided to post only a couple for now and add to it later:

“Btw this is my first mood board and I’m still not at all good at it please don’t be mean” I say, knowing you wouldn’t be(you’ll so nice FR).

[Penea]

Ima make this more like a story, since i enjoy writing that way more.

The story in here

A huff of air leaves through the wraps on her head, ones that are often seen covering her face no matter what else she may wear on top of them. She wanders down the street on her trek back home, longing to get back to the only family she knows, the one she built herself. A family that consists more of creatures then humanoid beings, but a tight knit family none the less, for she speaks to them all and they listen to her and communicate back, in less then words yet the messages convey more then spoken sentences could ever say.

On the way back she runs into an old friend, whos eyes glow with a ring of dim red, a non-human aura about them to those who pay close enough attention. Instinctually a hand raises to her heart, a non existent ache where feelings should be, an empty void where her soul once lay. She stares at the ‘man’ infront of her, a wicked smile lay on his face, but one that perhaps holds some fondness, if you were to look hard enough. “Penea, it’s been a while old friend” He speaks, words silky and laced with an undertone of sensuality, a tone she has heard many a time before, from both of them
“indeed it has. Found another person to lure into your guys web?” she asks, no emotion in her tone, though its not like she has any. But if she doesn’t, then why-
“Ah, i would tell you no, but you always could see through my lies. Though its not as if you can’t be accused of the same, with all those you have wrapped around your finger. I cant blame them though, nor you, you always had so much love to give, and you always were as tempting as sin itself” he drawls, a look of hunger in his eyes as he stares at her “you always were my favorite you know”
She speaks with no inflection, eyes staring dead into his own. They would look into his soul, though it’s unknown to her if he has one to call his own “I’m sure i’m not the first to hear those words, nor will i be the last. We both know how you work ***** , so an act is of no help to you. What is it you really want?”

He chuckles “always so perceptive, though you are wrong about one thing, you are my favorite” he smiles, a small fang pokes out from the left side of his mouth “you were my favorite toy, always so eager to please though it’s clear you’ve changed.” his mouth downturns slightly “i’ve seen you around, helping others with no need to, no gain. you don’t partake in the same events you used to, which is quite a shame” he sighs and brings a finger to trail along the cloth around her jaw “yet you still appeal to my brethren, what is your goal?” he asks, expression hardened though his eyes hold a fondness that can’t be faked, one that seems almost too soft for his kind
“so that is what you want, information on my plans” she asks, though it is clearly rhetorical “my actions are my own, and my intentions are for me alone to know”
he huffs and retracts his hand “you always were too secretive for your own good. but could you, as a friend, as once something more, do me a favor?”
she does not respond, but it is clear she is waiting for him to speak again
“please tell me you wont fight fire with fire? that you wont be so reckless as to go against the embassy” he asks, maybe out of concern for his council, or maybe out of concern for her.

She is silent for a second “as a curtesy for you i will say, everything will work out in the end” he tenses slightly at her non response, but she continues before he can speak.
“and i have no plans to harm the embassy, not yet at least. but if i ever did wish to, you and i both know who would win”
He relaxes slightly, staring at her once again with that unlikely fondness “yes, i guess we do” he takes a step closer, leaning up slightly as he holds the cloths on her cheek in the palm of his hand. ‘be careful’
She leans down, resting her wrapped forehead against his, ‘i will’. A promise shared with words not exchanged.
He places a kiss against the wraps where her cheek would lay, then steps away “you’re not just my favorite toy, but you know that”
She blinks “i know, but i’m not sure whether i believe it yet” her voice is soft when she says this, though emotions it still lacks
He smiles at her, genuine and lacking the edge it had earlier “one day you’ll see the truth behind my words. One day darling” he says, then walks away, soon disappearing into the shadowed streets of Fallen London.
“one day…” she repeats in a whisper, watching him leave before turning, to once again resume on her way home.

Just another day for many, yet perhaps one of more importance for some. The chill of hallowmas seeps into the streets and people revel in the festivities. Urchins play and prey up on the roofs, londoners lurk and listen in the shadows, ratus faber scurry about underground and above, a lady with a fully covered face and a devil with a rather kind smile meet again. Perhaps this is just the start, the beginning of something much greater, or perhaps it is not, only time will tell.

Jeez le heckin’ weeze , i did not expect it to get this long, and whats worse is i want to make more.
This was supposed to be a character introduction and it became a whole story on one single interaction that took over an hour to write (no regrets though, i think i did a pretty good job).
I honestly feel compelled to make more short stories like this about my character, if anyone here actually took time to read this and would be interested in reading more stories like this, then let me know and i might make a topic post to put some in when i feel like writing them.

Im not sure if this fits the theme of this topic enough, but guess it kinda is still describing my character, so i hope it’s fine. And if not please tell me so i can move/delete it.
-Yours truly, Penea

Edit: I hid the story in the dropdown cause 1, it’s kinda long, 2 it may have spoilers, im not sure if it does but better safe than sorry.

[somenotoriousnobleman]

Heh. Well, such is the aimless yet passionate and robust spirits of true Londoners. Nevertheless, well done.

And I thought I wrote long!