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Arabella Gray
Arabella Gray
Posts: 4

Arabella Gray

Gender: Female
Race: Human
Age: Around 24-ish

Height: shorter than average. Roughly 5'4
Build: She used to be much thinner from a life of constantly trying to scrimp and con for food and money, to the point where she was slightly malnourished. She's now filled outt somewhat from her prosperous time in the Neath. She has also built up an impressive amount of muscle from her recent escapades in watchmakers hill and beyond, making her leaner and tougher.

Skin color: Rosy, with a dusting of freckles
Eye color: bright green
Hair color: Light orange-red
Hair style/quality: Wavy, short hair. She used to keep it longer, but now she's cut it to shoulder length, normally keeping it tied back, except for in private or at formal events.

Usual clothing style: She has always prefered to dress to be seen, though she has now taken to dressing in a less flamboyant-but no less stylish-manner. She has also come to enjoy wearing trousers and other more masculine pieces of attire whenever she plans to do more physical activities.

Usual demeanor: Arabella is open, welcoming and jovial. She fits in almost anywhere she goes, so long as those places don't expect her to be sombre and dour.

Other remarkable details: She has a deuling scar under her eye that she is quite proud of.

That's what happens when you try to change things: things change.

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Lord Hoot
Lord Hoot
Posts: 47

Lord Hoot (a nom de plume) is a charming young gentleman in his late 20s or 30s. Blond of hair and dressed conservatively. He has a winning manner and counts both beggars and aristocrats as friendly acquaintances, but none know him well. Wears a permanent smirk and unsettles some with his darting eyes. He is often distracted when passing mirrors, which the less perceptive take for vanity - not noticing the hunger in his gaze.

Think a younger, better-looking Edward Drinker Cope and you're not far off.
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Dr Hemsworth
Dr Hemsworth
Posts: 9

Dr. Hemsworth

Gender: Heh. Amusing concept.
Race: Human...probably still human.
Age: Long since forgotten.

Height: 6", or thereabouts.
Build: Slender. Yet, he clearly has all his pieces. Why the bandages?

Skin color:
Obscured by bandages.
Eye color: Blue. Usually.
Hair color: Black. Probably. Tufts peak out from under the bandages.

Usual clothing style: Never without an odd pair of hexagonal goggles and mechanical gauntlets. Don't look at anything else for too long. It's all woven from nightmares, you know.
Constant Companion: Soot. An untrustworthy raven, that one.
Usual demeanor: To bothersome people, abrasive. To useful people, alluring. To friends, amiable. On some days, madder than the most exceptional hatter.

Voice: A German accent. Whether or not they hail from Germany is a mystery. They may have simply forgotten the original.
Other remarkable details: Researching the precise nature of the soul. If you have any information useful to this quest, let them know. They swear they only want the betterment of all. Certainly it has nothing to do with attaining godhood, or overthrowing the judgements themselves. In any case, they're publishing, and they'll add your name to the dedications. Very prestigious.
edited by Dr Hemsworth on 10/13/2015

Dr. Hemsworth , natural philosopher and would-be god.

Know anything about the purpose or properties of souls? Do tell.
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Posts: 2


Gender: Whichever seems the most fun. A casual observer should expect to be thoroughly confused, and this particular individual is guaranteed to be thoroughly amused as a result.
Race: Human
Age: 20s? 30s? Maybe even 40s? It's hard to tell...

Height: 169 cm (5.5")
Built: Lithe and athletic
Skin: Rosey white
Eyes: Bright green
Hair: Reddish orange, and cleanly and elegantly cut at all times
Face: Very androgynous and rather angular, with soft, elegant features surrounding a large mouth and full lips

Usual clothing style: Eccentric but fashionable. Favors tight trousers and a shirt under a vest. Forearms are usually bared, but gloves are very favoured. At times she may wear a mask or a hat, and when more normative elegance or greater subtlety is called for a dress or coat is not a rare sight.
Usual demeanor: He often sports a wide, open smile that reaches all the way up to his eyes. The result is that he seems eternally amused. She is polite and given to both showmanship and lyricism, but everything about her carries a secretive undertone, from her stage name to her grandiose words to her smile. Decorum is not an obstacle to flirtatiousness where he is concerned. During polite conversation one might find him biting his lip or shooting seductive looks around the table.
Voice: Very posh accent. It is hard to tell whether it is natural or learnt.

Other: Mostly hangs around Veilgarden, writing verse and learning magician's tricks. Has an interest in history and especially in comparative mythology. He also tries to get access to occult books whenever possible. Saturnin is a nom de plume, and the regulars at The Singing Mandrake have nicknamed her "Cheshire". Loves luxury even if it can only be afforded on rare occasions.
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Posts: 461

Name: Ignacious (Temporarily known as the man who is not a Walrus, still referred to as such by old acquiantances).

Gender: Male.
Skin color: White almost to the point of paleness.
Accent: Probably British.
Age: Most likely in his thirties, but he's yet to locate his birth certificate or a relative from the surface.

Facial Features: Auburn hair, bushy beard that hides some of his worst scars from surface days. These are often visible after work with the Correspondence. Square jaw accentuated by the beard. Narrow eyes of a washed-out brown. Bushy eyebrows, prominent nose.

Body: Tall (1.82 m) and broad shouldered, not as muscled as some clothes make him seem. A few barely-visible scars on his chest, arms and legs. More of an athletic build that a bruiser, but he excels at neither.

Usual Clothing: Prefers suits and elegance. Usually brown in color and tailored to accentuate his strength if at all possible. During field activities leaning towards the shadowy, he favors inconspicuous clothing reminiscent of the working class, with plenty pockets. During a tumble he'll favor something heavy and well-armored.

Constant Companion: A snarky lizard -more specifically, an Iguana- named Felipe.

Usual Demeanor: Light-hearted, his speech filled with jokes and flirtations. Many would say he doesn't take things seriously, but he will turn serious if there is a point to be made of a decision to be taken. Despite this, he can be slightly aloof and many would blame him of not paying attention to anything but his current mission.

Ignacious, the Fluid Professor, he will accept most social invitations, including boxed cats and affluent photographers (but only betrayals), though he is absent-minded and might take more time than entirely necessary. He apologizes.
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Vincent Asmund
Vincent Asmund
Posts: 318

Vincent Asmund? Sterling? Cadwell?

Gender: Probably male. Emphasis on probably.
Race: Human.
Age: In the 23 - 30 range

Height: He's pretty goddamned tall, though it's not enough to be standing above all in a crowd. It's surely enough to make him feel awkward while bedding a short person.
Built: He's been in the Neath for half a decade now, and up until now he was rather skinny. One can note he's growing more muscular, but not too much.
Skin: Vincent has pale skin, almost as white as now. This isn't really a surprise for someone living a few hundred miles underground.

Eyes: His eyes are supposedly swamp green, but he wears luminous Neathglass goggles often.
Hair: His hair is dark brown and messy, though he can manage to comb it to the side when attending social activities.
Face: His face is thin and rather oval. He has some freckles, and his jaw stands out ever so slightly.

Usual clothing style:His clothing ranges from "lemme slytherin your bed" to "I'm going to crush your skull" to "Sherlock Holmes: new volume" however he is usually seen sporting fine vests and suits, never hats. Some report seeing some kind of small hook dropping from his sleeve, but those are just rumours, right? His pockets do seem Fuller after leaving crowded events..
Usual demeanor: Vincent is a flirtatious and insidious bastard. He'll be throwing pickup lines everywhere in parties and murder investigations alike, and he's been killed and exiled to the tomb-colonies for that once or twice.

Voice: His voice is smooth as silk, persuasive. This dramatically increases the likelihood that he'll be leaving a poem recital a few times richer than he was before. It also increases the chances of being threatened and murdered but it's all the same. Unless you manage to catch him in a good mood or at the Shuttered Palace, Vincent is quiet.

Other: --


Vincent Åsmund
, an Author searching to return to his former glory.

Konstantin Sorokin, a newcomer to the Neath with revolutionary tendencies.
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Posts: 1060


Gender: Male
Race: Human
National Origin: United States
Age: Old enough to know better

Height: 6-0 (or 1.83 meters for those of you who prefer the new-fangled style)
Build: Solid (large-boned, short fingers, weighs approx 200 lb or 91 kilos)

Skin color: Very pale
Eye color: Grey (spit or gin-colored, if you will)
Hair color: Molten copper
Hair style/quality: Parted on the left, long enough to cover the ears
Facial Hair: Clean-shaven, no sideboards
Distinguishing Marks: Has an old scar where no-one but the most intimate of acquaintances is likely to see it.

Usual clothing style: Minimalist, except he has a fondness for archaic lace cravats and cuffs.
On special occasions, can be very fly indeed.

Usual demeanor: Situational, but reserved in company. Introverted. Amiable, but not one to suffer fools, gladly or otherwise.

Voice: Medium Baritone/Philadelphia dialect with touches of Pittsburgh

Other notable details: Affects a pipe, has some tendency towards nearsightedness.

Other personal quirks: Has been known to commit poetry, but always washes his hands
afterwards. Is perhaps more fond of irony than is good for anyone. Prefers to go uncovered,
although it would be ungracious to suggest that this is because he is vain of his hair.

-- Mal
edited by malthaussen on 10/9/2015

"Of two choices, I always take the third."
Will do all socials except Loitering or Private Evenings (all my Free Evenings are accounted for), and Affluent Photographer Betrayals only, please. I am not currently accepting calling cards.
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Posts: 5

Soalean Monterey (Likely an alias. Rumours say her true name is Elizabeth)

Gender: Female
Race: Human
Age: 23

Height: 5'4"
Build: Just the right amount of curves, though with a slim build, clearly favouring speed over strength.
Skin color: Lightly tanned, possibly a new-ish arrival to the Neath?
Eye color: Blue
Hair color: Vibrantly red, clearly dyed.
Hair style/quality: She wears her hair short. Be it because she thinks it adds to her charm, or because having your hair get in your eyes in a fight (or while sneaking around in places you don't belong) doesn't tend to end well, both of which are particularly common in the Neath.

Usual clothing style: She seems to view gender as a non-matter when it comes to clothing. Going from wearing a fancy suit to one high-class celebration, to an extravagant dress the next. She can be typically found wearing long, black, leather pants, as well as a shirt of some description, and typically a well tailored jacket to go with it. This naturally changes if she has a particular activity in mind. She has, to her own surprise, taken to wearing a ratskin suit when engaging in her more stealthy pursuits. In any case, when wearing a jacket of some kind, she always keeps a knife strapped to the small of her back, ready for use at a moment's notice. This IS Fallen London after all. Lastly, she is almost literally inseparable from a pair of plain goggles.

Usual demeanor: She likes to live life to the fullest, nothing seems to be particularly off-limits to her. Some days she can be found flitting around Veilgarden, enjoying the more hedonistic pursuits, although usually found flirting with someone, and on rare occasions, in the Parlor of Virtue. She's been seen to take a bit of a favor to the female gender, though not exclusively. On other days she can be found near Watchmaker's Hill or the Wolfstack Docks, getting in some fight or another, be it planned and part of a ring, a streetfight or a drunken brawl in a Wolfstack tavern. Finally, she's been observed to speak to some rather shadowy individuals on occasion, leading some to suspect that she's not always on the good side of the law, though if it's true, she's not yet been caught.
Voice: She speaks with an English accent, and a soft, but sultry tone.
Other remarkable details: A reference of her appearance can be found at: http://i.imgur.com/u5bYCIV.png
edited by Soaleanmonterey on 10/10/2015

http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Soalean~Monterey Send me IC social actions! Watchful stuff unlikely.
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Posts: 2


Gender: Male
Race: Human

Height: 5'4
Build: Lean and slightly athletic
Skin Color: Pale-ish
Hair color: Blonde
Hair style: Medium-length with straight strands. The hair falling down the back of his head reaches his shoulder; strands at the sides only getting down until his jaw-line; and at the front, a few strands occasionally fall before his eyes (forcing him to many times blow or push it away). It's surprisingly well taken care of.

Usual clothing style: His clothing contrasts with his well-off appearance. Around his neck is a short, dark red scarf, neatly tied with the ends of it appearing to be lined with a variety of cuts. His suit's coat is dark brown in color, commonly used unbuttoned, and with one of the lower buttons noticeably missing. Under such is a similarly colored vest, although having a lighter pigmentation, nothing looks particularly wrong with it, but the shirt under it does. He wears a white, button-up shirt, of course it would be incorrectly buttoned, making it look uneven, and instead of being well tucked into his pants, on many sides it simply sticks out from under the vest. His pants, just like the vest, have nothing noticeably wrong with them. His shoes, black in color and appearing pretty beat up, the front tip of their underside are lined with a thin layer of some metal. Finally, a satchel tends to be hanging over his shoulder, and crossed over his torso. Its stitched up from a variety of leathers that are clearly from different creatures, and inside tend to be a nice variety of literature along with other less noticeable or better hidden items.

Usual demeanor: In most cases, two words that could easily describe Tetzi are stoic and reserved. Although this doesn't encompass all cases, he tends to keep to himself, only interacting when need be or to sate the need for proper social interaction that all humans occasionally have. In his leisure times, he can mostly be seen walking around the town or reading and having a nice cup at caligula's. Of course, he has more active times at Watchmaker's hill. He tends to excuse this behavior as necessity, for if a man's blade isn't sharpened, it will quickly grow dull. Yes, even as a pretty still individual, all need a manner of making coin, with his tending to be on the brutish side of affairs. But those who know him well understand that "necessity" is partially an excuse. Whenever he tends to leave his more reserved state, he can be rather cold, critical, and sometimes outright distasteful in his comments. It's no surprise that a man that can so quickly turn to annoyance and frustration would be rather good at violence.

Tetzi, a cold, reserved, and occasionally mean spirited individual. Neddy man and fiend for hire.

Feel free to send a card! Always looking for friends to create stories with!
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Posts: 18

Var Sheridan (a pseudonym, their real name is undisclosed to all but their nearest and dearest)

They insist on being referred to by they/them pronouns, and refuse to answer any questions on the topic of their gender. White Irish. Human, if a tad spooky at times. Their age is probably mid-20s, but they don’t remember precisely how old they are, and don’t particularly care.

Height: 5 foot nothing.
Build: somewhat thin, could reasonably be described as dainty. Lithe enough, but not very muscular. Built for speed rather than strength. Clearly rely on their wits more than their muscles, although they know their way around a knife.

Skin colour: a very pale white, like someone who was already pale and then went to live in an underground cavern. Would freckle in sunlight, if there was any.
Eye colour: a non-descript blue-green, aside from a thin corona of bright yellow-white-gold radiating from around the pupil which might recall sunlight or fire. They have a fairly intense stare.
Hair colour: dark brown.
Hair style: Usually chin length, cut straight across, in a centre parting. They have a widow’s peak.
If they’ve been at Correspondence research, it’s more uneven and tufted and singed in places, but they get it cut back to some semblance of neatness quickly afterwards.

Usual clothing style: generally wears suits in white or various pastel shades – cream, or lavender, or soft blues or pinks. Doesn’t wear clashing colours together, and tends to have the same colour for all items of their suits, but the effect is quite flashy regardless. High collared or arrow collared shirts, in white. Wears a contrasting cravat in blue or red if they’re wearing a white or cream suit. Tends to wear matching dancing slippers or other soft-soled shoes, although they occasionally wear these sort of boots. Almost always wears white gloves. Also wears a mantle, visite or short evening cape.
Sometimes wears a tiara or other fanciful headgear to social events. Occasionally also accessories such a brooches. Florals or stars are common details on both their clothing and accessories.
The exception to all the above is the rare occasion where stealth or bloodshed is required – then they wear all black, including shoes and gloves. Or when they’re at research, at which point they wear a plain shirt, black waistcoat and trousers, and no tie or cravat. The garments show signs of previous wear and tear, particularly in the form of burn marks. It gives a fairly improper impression.

Usual demeanor: at social events they give the impression of being somewhat charming but distant. Keen to learn about other people, but not necessarily keen to get to know them. Only charming if they feel like they have a reason to be, though. Otherwise they can be prickly or even frosty despite generally being mannerly enough, since they keep most people at arm’s length. Curt when crossed. A very poor temper if pushed further.
Voice: pitch is middling. A bit soft voiced. They have a mild south-west Irish accent, and usually carefully enunciate their words, but their accent is stronger when they’re particularly emotional or angry, and their speech patterns and words take on a pronounced Hiberno-English feel.

Other remarkable details: when they take off their gloves, it’s apparent that while they have slender, long-fingered hands, their palms are quite badly scarred, with what appear to be layers of burn scars. The left palm is notably worse, and mobility in that hand is somewhat reduced. Their nails are short and neatly kept.
Var has a tattoo on the inside of their right wrist, of a white lotus overlapping a red rose. The lotus is nearest their hand. (See here for details.) Parts of this can occasionally be glimpsed when a gap shows between their gloves and shirt cuff, and most of the lotus can be seen in full when they take their gloves off.
Although it’s unlikely to ever be relevant, they also have generic spy tattoos at the top of both arms.
They tend to carry an assortment of bits and bobs in their pockets, such as rostygold, glim, and a magnifying glass, as well as a box of matches. Hidden and carefully secured in an inside pocket of their coat is a ravenglass knife.

Further details here.

Var Sheridan, the Insatiable Academic, a Correspondent and an Extraordinary Mind. Open to all social actions except cat boxes or SMEN related ones.

Open to roleplaying social actions as well as tumblr RPing.
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Dio Ermine
Dio Ermine
Posts: 16

A double feature, of rough accuracy.

Dio Ermine (myself) pictured left, along with my partner and spouse, J-------.
We are the strange folk, staring in the corner.

Drawn for Inktober.
edited by Dio Ermine on 10/31/2015

+5 link
Posts: 639

Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: Mid twenties
Height: 6'0
Build: Lean yet muscular, think of a welterweight's physique
Skin color: Light brown due to the constant exposure to zee winds and his surface life as a seafarer
Eye color: dark brown
Hair color: black with streaks of apocyan if the light hits them at the right angle
Hair style/quality: Long-wavy hair that is usually tied in a ponytail. It mostly smells of salt but he's careful to groom it to perfection if he needs to go for public appearances. He's also clean shaven given that beards may accumulate dirt and other stuff during hunts.
Voice: His voice will remind you of the unusual tone that the Gracious Widow and her cohorts use.
Usual clothing style: He usually prefers to wear dark green clothing. He always carry around a rather interesting umbrella, both for unexpected Glim showers and the occasional criminal. He's fond of black velvety clothes when it comes to social gatherings or less scrupulous.
Usual demeanor: He's mostly quiet, calm and collected while within London. However, he tends to have a rather hungry look whenever he takes to zee or hunting prey.
Other remarkable details:
He's usually accompanied by a lot of animals, his favorites are his Rattus Faber squad and kittens. He's usually more relaxed when talking with them or about them and would generally fine with others petting them, especially his Starveling Cat.
His footsteps don't emit a sound, even if he's dancing in one of the Ambassadors balls.

My profiles: http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Pyrodinium
(A Monster hunter on the hunt of his twin brother's killer. Overprotective dad of his twin's daughter)
(an indeterminate person of potentially rubbery lineage)
* All social actions except photographers and loitering welcome!
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Xane Al-Rahibi
Xane Al-Rahibi
Posts: 78

Well, I'm always eager to bring more attention to the existence of our race. Just in case you were not aware, the Omnibus Octavo are similar to the clay men. However, instead of being broad-shouldered and strong, the Octavo are tall, slender, and very intelligent if I do say so myself. Also, we're made of paper and books. That's actually me in the profile picture!

And apparently, my assistant wants me to add him to this page...

Xane Al-Rahibi

Gender: Male-ish, hard to tell.
Race: Omnibus Octavo.
Age: He doesn't quite know, but through research he and I speculate he was given life about twenty-five years ago.

Height: Somewhat tall. I mean - he's not short.
Build: Thin. Here, think something along the lines of a walking stack of paper.

Skin color: Paper, we don't really have skin
Eye color: No eyes either, sometimes we wear goggles or glasses just to make it look like we do. No one is really sure how we see because there haven't been many studies conducted on the Octavo
Hair color: No hair.
Hair style/quality: Ditto. Dear God I'm just realizing how boring we actually are to look at.

Usual clothing style: Xane prefers long black coats. Think tailcoats, peacoats, frock coats, topcoats, etc. He wears a pair of goggles at all times for some reason, just to blend in with the crowd a bit more. Myself, I just prefer my fedora and brown suit jacket.

Usual demeanor: Oh he's cheery enough for a man made out of the pages of satanic bibles and such.

Voice: We all sound kind of dusty, similar to what a tomb colonist sounds like, but our F sounds and P sounds come with the sound of someone flipping the pages of a book.

Other remarkable details: - Well, Xane plays a mean euphonium. A very mean euphonium. No seriously, the thing's alive, and it all it does is insult people all day.

Xane Al-Rahibi:
A sacrosanct symphonist, aberrant author, palatable poet, and darn good euphophonist to boot,

Oh, and Eighth Offprint Opus of The Omnibus Octavo

This is how you may contact me in the world of Fallen London:

I am open to any and all requests relating to any and all social actions.
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Posts: 72


Gender: Male, but this is something he does not openly display by habit. Most find it hard to tell at first blush, regardless if he's gone to the effort of obscuring himself or not.
Race: Human, although one might be able to convince themselves he's hiding something with his love of obscuring clothes and masks. He's not.
Age: Probably sometime in his twenties, or an especially youthful early thirties.

Height: Short. Around five foot, with a tendency to stoop and hunch so as to seem even smaller.
Build: Chubbier than his heavy clothes tend to suggest. He's nowhere near porcine, but he's certainly thicker in most places than the average. While somewhat broad-hipped, his height combined with the lack of broadness in his shoulders gives him a less-bulky silhouette than someone of his bodytype might be expected to have.

Skin color: A neathy pale, as is appropriate.
Eye color: Green, but often obscured in one manner or another.
Hair color: Black, kept relatively short and close about the face.

Usual clothing style: Suits are not his favorite style of clothing, but they are the style he most-often wears. His clothes are rarely extravagant - quite to the contrary, Amyntas makes an effort to appear plain and unassuming, and usually goes to some lengths to subtly obscure his features. Dull suits and obscuring spectacles are the rule of the day, and ideally one will either consider Amyntas profoundly boring or fail to notice him at all. In obscuring his face, usually this is little more than a high collar or a sizable set of goggles, but when in dire need for anonymity he will don a convincing set of bandages on any exposed skin.

It is rumored, among the few that care to know him, that on rare occasions he will make the effort of squeezing into a dress and corset and dolling himself up in makeup. Supposedly, he will then go out to Veilgarden to drink and revel and lapse into a more social slew of honey-dreams. If these rumors are to be believed in their entirety, he apparently looks quite good as far as full-figured ladies go.

Usual demeanor: As the description of his attire might suggest, Amyntas rarely does much to draw attention to himself. He speaks little and tersely, often with an air of submission or deference should he be more substantially interrogated. Part of this is that Amyntas does not wish to be seen as a threat, but part of it is also that he's very often not a threat. Would you be scared of a chubby little fellow in a suit avoiding your gaze? Perhaps - this is the Neath, after all, and one never knows for sure. When Amyntas is given lease to speak at length, he speaks with erudition and composure but also with a pervasive melancholy. Amyntas has the heart of a tortured poet, which makes it all the more a shame that he's such a bad one. Even at his most relaxed, some people find Amyntas thoroughly depressing to be around.

Voice: Soft, often muffled. Easily mistaken for a lady or else comfortably androgynous if the rumors are true. He speaks with all the accent and conventions of a London native. It's possible that he came from somewhere in prelapsarian Britain, but he talks of descending to the Neath of his own accord instead of being born there as his age would necessitate, were it that he were proper British. The particulars are likely wholly uninteresting.

Other remarkable details: He has a zubmarine known as the Sinky Grink, an obscure reference or private joke that he has never bothered to explain. He is known to occasionally hire on competent crew and zail out for some days, and has expressed a deep and abiding love of the silence that comes from a fully-submerged zubmarine. He has never brought anything significant back from his travels, and as far as can be understood he has never done anything significant abroad. It can be safely assumed that he only really sets out to get away from London. With Sacksmas looming at the time of writing, perhaps he'll find somewhere more comfortably obscure to hide away.
edited by Amyntas on 11/11/2015

Amyntas. Zubmariner and aspiring romantic.
0 link
Posts: 9

Let us have a go at this then, shall we?

Sir Richard Forrest is a man of many curious eccentricities who came to the Neath in his late twenties in the fall of 1888. Standing roughly 1.8 meters tall and with a slight build, he is by no means an imposing presence. Not, that is, until one considers his appearance.

A finely groomed goatee and traditional handlebar mustache adorn his face, as well as an ever-present pair of luminous neathgoggles framing a pair of glittering bloodshot eyes sunken into his pallid face. Bloodshot from lack of sleep due to his frequent visits to the Mirror-Marches, pallid due to an overindulgence in laudanum and prisoner's honey. A slightly-battered Unfinished Hat can very occasionally be found gnawing irascibly at his wild mop of copper hair, much to the chagrin of the amicable and chatty clothes-colony, Milton, that envelop the vast majority of his person. The insatiable gloves which contain his hands tend to emulate his Hat when they are worn together, but usually behave themselves when worn separately. A worn but lovingly maintained pair of kingscale boots grace his feet. A small golden apple pin can be found amidst the folds of Milton, who insist that it is in fact their membership badge, as they are the ones wearing it.

Mr. Forrest has a veritable menagerie of companions, in fact, ranging from a sullen Scuttering Squad that stands watch in the window to defend against the urchins that come snooping, to a hoarse-voiced Philosophical Raven that perches at the foot of his bed at night and regales him with a myriad of obscure existential minutiae in his sleep.

When at home in his not-so-handsome townhouse, he can most often be found with his nose buried in some dusty old tome, murmuring indistinctly to himself as he studies sigils and concocts his next experiment. Amongst his mannerisms are a tendency to tap his nose in an absentminded fashion while lost in thought, a habit of interrupting himself as he speaks, and a packrat mentality that has led to numerous complaints from the neighbours.

Indeed, even the orphanage he recently established on the lower floors is abnormal, to say the least. The "House of Diminuitive Labourers and Experiment-subjects" has quickly garnered the ire of the local area, as its occupants have a penchant for mischief in (and above) the streets. Within mere hours of its grand opening, it had already earned a reputation of dread and suspicion among the nearby citizens, and has been loudly and publicly lambasted for "crimes against Her Majesty, the city, and its people" on at least three separate occasions. What exactly these crimes are, none will say.

On the topic of experiments, of which Richard is quite fond: his private workspace, a tiny attic at the top of his townhouse, is cluttered with a bewildering array of chemistry-sets, tattered documents, scientific instruments, a mountain of books, and a large, unfinished chart of the Unterzee and the Unter-Unterzee. When he is not squirreled away in his lab, he can be found either prowling the Forgotten Quarter for trinkets and treasures, or exploring the zee in his bizarre "zubmerzible mechanized autopropulzive diving-craft", which he has lovingly dubbed "the M.D.R.E.V.", or Multipurpose Deepsea Research and Exploration Vessel.

His demeanour is normally quite inauspicious and aloof. This is due in no small part to his propensity for deep thought and absentmindedness, and not at all a result of any ill will borne toward others. His mentality is, however, pragmatic to a fault, bordering on sociopathic, and while he is entirely capable of geniality given the right circumstances, this is usually restricted to closer acquaintances or situations of personal interest to him.

While certainly a strange and unusual individual, he is quite clever and adept at unravelling mysteries... and while he may not be very sociable, he has learned much in the five years he has spent in the Neath. Absentminded he may be, but once he takes hold of an idea or decision, very seldomly does he decide to turn it loose.


This is just for descriptive purposes. The good sir will likely not be making any personal appearances at your residence, or here, but should you happen to spot him, you will now be well aware of who and what he is before he crosses your path and may alter your heading accordingly.

A gentleman with a keen eye, a sharp mind, a taste for mysteries and a fondness for zailing, he came from the Surface to study the Correspondence and uncover the secrets of the Judgements. He lives with a friendly clothes-colony and has an unhealthy interest in the Red Science.
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Posts: 39

I can try writing about the good old Merle. Cool

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Age: Hard to pin down just by looking at her, and the lady refuses to answer any question about it. It could be anywhere from mid-twenties to

Height: Not too tiny. ( 5'6'')

Build: Thin to the point of being bony, androgynous.

Skin color: A neathy pale white.

Eye color: Dark brown.

Hair: Light blonde, wavy, kept short. If she's feeling it, sometimes they are slicked back.

Usual clothing style: Menswear! Expensive menswear is everything to her, with a large preference for tailcoats. Occasionally, elegant dresses.

Usual demeanour: Cheerful, lazy, passionate, dramatic, theatrical even: Merle is vivacious and sunny most of the time and doesn't bother hiding it. Being also definitely a libertine who enjoyes all the pleasures life has to offer, she's flirty, especially if you happen to be a lady. She's curious; but is more than aware that sometimes, it's better to not know. Ignorance is bliss, right?
She also suffers of moodswings, and her warm mood can turn gloomy very easily.

Other details: Being shortsighted, Merle wears a pair of round glasses. Collects wines and adores birds with all her heart, especially her vain and useless macaw that happens to be named Othello. Honey is the way through her heart. She falls regularly for just about anyone, but said crushes last very little.

Reference image: this one, I guess!
edited by malaugurie on 11/13/2015

"Hey there devils it's me, ya girl Merle"
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Sestina Valdis
Sestina Valdis
Posts: 210

Fei Xue (飞血, lit. Flying Blood)

Gender: Unknown. Fluid. Take pick.
Race and Bloodline: Human. Chinese. Hainan Island.
Age: 22. No secret.

Height: 170cm. Imperial system: unfamiliar.

Build: Lean. Muscular. Some say: attractive. I say, "Lean. Muscular." Humility.

Skin color: Pale. Assassin cliche. Like: darkness. Ensuring pale: time-consuming. But necessary.

Eye color: Hood: red. Eyes: unknown.

Hair color: Black. Shiny. Proud of hair. Gloss: from bird's nest tonic.

Hair style/quality: Long, neat. Protrudes below hood. Fetching, no?

Facial Characteristics: Eyes: under hood. Assassin cliche.
Face: angular but delicate. Some say: beautiful, delicious, refined, mysterious. Some even say: chin: shapely; lips: delectable. I say: "angular but delicate." Humility.

Usual clothing style: Simple. Red tunic with hood. Mouth revealed. Design: manoeuvrable. No fuss. Change regularly, of course. Have many sets: over fifty shades of red. Essential to career. Cloak optional.
Enjoy: red lipstick. Match tunic. Pretty lips. Dramatic. Kiss of Death. Cliche is beautiful, no? Enjoy: people laugh before they die. Murder: fun for both parties.
Always carry: sword. Smith: me. Sword sharp, like words. Cutting, like words. Sometimes must sheathe, like words.

Voice: They say: androgynous. Too deep for woman. Too high for man. Some: displeased. Others: tremble: fear, pleasure, or both.
Fei Xue is perfectly capable of speaking eloquently and in full sentences. But words: precious. Long sentences: wasteful. Enjoy: colons. (Both kinds.)
Another reason: also hate: Oriental stereotype. Revenge: best way: reiterate stereotype. Reiterate: speech. Explanation: some people prejudiced. Is ok. They: laugh before death. Laugh at speech. Laugh at sentence structure. Laugh: good excuse for murder. Laugh: murder fun for both parties.

Usual demeanor: They say: Ruthless. But I: determined. Quote: your Darwin: "Survival of the fittest." Unfit die: resources to fit. Not merciless. Simply utilitarian, Darwinian. No waste. Great Cycle. (Another cliche!)
They say: heartless. But manipulation: enjoyable. Test of skill. Good practice for assassin. Also necessary. Assassin: must get used to being used. Assassin: tool. But not immoral. Not amoral. Loyalty: to master, to Club, to client, to friends. Friends: useful, fascinating.
Not ungrateful. Have honour. Repay kindness. Mutually beneficial. But altruism: foolish. World: too cruel. Only mutual benefit. Transactions. Bonds. Contracts. Not charity.
Goal: become best assassin. Meld into shadow. One with blade. Death before dishonour. Sounds stupid, is stupid. But must embody cliche. Act out wishes. Wishes of others are wishes of Self. Perform role well. Be rewarded.

((This beautiful sketch is by Sandro Halpho. Fei Xue's lips are usually far redder than this--imagine bright, bright crimson-- but I think the medium and style aptly capture the "feel" that I wanted for this character.))

edited by Sestina Valdis on 11/14/2015
edited by Sestina Valdis on 11/15/2015
edited by Sestina Valdis on 11/21/2015
edited by Sestina Valdis on 11/30/2015

Sestina Valdis, the Saccharine Satirist.
Appearance and Misc. Accoutrements
A Past Scattered Across Discarded Stockings

Fei Xue, the Artful Assassin.

Edward de Riere, the Barebones Baron.

Avatar by Daniel Ilinca.
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Viti Rose
Viti Rose
Posts: 32

Gender: Female
Race: Human
Age: Late twenties
Height: 6'2
Build: Slender
Skin color: Very pale
Eye color: Pale Brown
Hair color: Deep brown
Hair style: Long and alway to one side of her head.
Usual clothing style: Suit and mask if in Spite, Flit, Mahogany Hall. If any where else sleek suit and google to keep brimstone and ash out of her eyes.
Demeanor: She is souless and feels little emotion but dispite the fact she always has a slight smile, no matter what. She acts much like a devil trying to get someones soul. Being nice but almost too nice.
Voice: Soft and sweet to cold and harsh.
Other details: She has a scar on her wrist that tingles when by her own soul contract. Her eyes are always slightly red from brimstone getting in her eyes.
Viti Rose - Infernal Informant
0 link
Posts: 823

Gender: Female

Race: (Soulless) Human

Age: Mid-20s

Height: 5 foot 11 3/4 inches (Grumpy that she is not 6)

Build: Average

Skin Color: Used to be tan, but is Paler, now that she lives in the Neath.

Eye Color: Dark Brown

Hair Color: Brown

Hair Style: Long and stylishly messy

Usual Clothes: Suits and/or plain dresses.

Demeanor: Friendly and confident. Loves puns and odd turns of phrase. One of the guys. Very secretive about herself and her past, though.

Voice: Boisterous and tomboyish.

Other details: Refuses to tell anyone her real name. Her hobbies include not dying, writing, collecting useless junk, stalking Devils, giving useless advice, and collecting Brass.
edited by th8827 on 2/6/2016


Gone NORTH. It's nice here.
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Baron Leichtsinn
Baron Leichtsinn
Posts: 34

Baron Leichtsinn

Gender: Who knows.
Race: Humanesque
Age: How impolite to even ask

Height: 1 fathom
Build: Doesn't even lift

Skin color: Band aid
Eye color: Shady Sunglass
Hair color: mongrel blond
Hair style/quality: A skein of thin hair at the back of the head is staking it's claim against layers of masks

Usual clothing style: Cheap suit of rough wool over expensive stockings. The wool is from 2nd Scotland, though. What a bargain.

Usual demeanor: making a fuzz, demanding a bout, delivering a speech

Voice: mumbling through layers of masks

Other remarkable details: sharps blades and worse words
edited by Baron Leichtsinn on 11/21/2015

All the world's problems can be solved by poetry. And violence. Poetry and violence. Who said, violence wasn't a solution? Actually it solves all the problems, that couldn't be solved by poetry.
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