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desolate

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About desolate

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  • Birthday 12/09/1988

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  1. Read yo PMs Mr. Rhizae!

  2. desolate

    Nightingales can't live on fairy tales

    Full summary - Members of the vigilante group Justice stake out a major trade route for suspicious activity, the once quiet town of Chesterfield turned commerce hub on the highway between Biazo, Patia, Weland, and Marlboro Keep. During the night, a group of bandits hit a caravan; Justice jumps into the fray, only to discover the bandits were—possibly but not confirmed—military operatives targeting a trader in illicit goods. This seller of rare magical contraband—"guarded" by a rat ogre that is promptly defeated by the combined effort of Eddie, Jackson, and Jericho—gives up information under interrogation: he is part of a notorious crime syndicate, the Purveyors of Exotica, that have taken advantage of the Safeguard Act's unintended consequences: a strong black market for mystical goods in the region. Additionally, the POE trade in mystical humanoid goods as well, several of the government officials of Chesterfield, including the alderman and the guard captain, who partake in the trafficking—the former for his own pleasure and the latter for the sake of wealth. Naturally, the three of them assassinate the alderman under cover of night and fog while the town guard are preoccupied sorting out the "bandit" attack on the highway. Jericho uses the Ghost Pouch artifact to steal both the alderman's ghost and the POE agent's ghost. Eddie cracks a safe in the alderman's home containing various notes, rainy day cash, and a storage device including pictures and video of some of his.... trafficking activities. They leave the guard captain alive for the time being, and intend to gaslight her into believing the POE turned on them, and Justice were their rescuers. As a result, Justice plants a fake alderman in the dead one's place, and begins using the insider knowledge gained from the combination of documents, torture and ghosts to have a Justice cell infiltrate other positions in town for a full take-over. Short summary - Eddie, Jericho and Jackson—members of the infamous vigilante group Justice—strike down a corrupt government in the town of Chesterfield. Their organization, under disguise, takes over the town and in effect the trade route.
  3. desolate

    The Black Book (B|E Quest)

    Noel turned his attention away from Godric and Leo to Ioreth. Her debrief was surprisingly professional and warranted a genuine smile. It certainly beat a rotting bulletin board, overheard gossip, the begging of a grieving spouse, or the demands of an unhinged CEO; he already had a good feeling about this! With regards to the paperwork, Noel fetched a quartz cylinder from his pocket about the size of his index finger, and waved it over each paper individually, both front and back. It shed a pale white light in response. Once he was finished scanning a copy, he pocketed the crystal and signed each document NOEL TRASIMENE, MEMBER, BANISHING POINT LLC. Recent scandals had taught him the value of limited liability. He slid the signed papers back across the table and stared at Tachi. Rats were common in Hell's Gate, but he had never seen one as a pet, or a pet without a leash—physical or otherwise. Maybe the commonness of the creature was its purpose: an easily replaced distraction for the Black Hound to chase and eat while Haru captured it? He wished he had thought of it. Leash laws being evidently lack in this city, Blairville might have allowed him to import a few dozen. It took him a couple of minutes to consider his options. The oneiromancer was more of a personal interest, and he didn't want to talk about adapting dream sorcery to visiting the astral prisons of body-snatching victims in front of the rest of them, at least not until they all stripped down and consented to a full-cavity search. Either way, it seemed terribly unprofessional. On the other group: Godric reminded him too much of a former associate, Haru was a weirdo with a pet rat, and he didn't particularly care to be anywhere near the murder-market. In fact, finding the book without encountering the Hound, its master, or its victims at all would be wonderful. "Right," he confirmed, mostly to himself. "I'll pop into the Golden Fox and have a few words with the brother. Do you happen to know of any other items sold from the estate?" Noel stood and turned to leave. An estate sale the day after his brother's funeral? He already didn't like Albert.
  4. desolate

    Black Book OOC

    Nah, you're both good. 👍
  5. desolate

    The Black Book (B|E Quest)

    Noel reclined in the plush seat of the first class flight and stared at the LCD in front of him, the faded screen flickering at the slightest turbulence; he supposed everyone had to adjust to the Shawnee situation. Articles on the Safeguard Riots that he had read a hundred times already scrolled through his news feed. There was no doubt in his mind that most, if not all of them were sanitized well before reaching the public. Only tabloids and rags reported on "tentacle-faced humanoids." Each author had their own take on the viral meme: images shopped to superimpose tentacles over the faces of various famous figures and childish captions. Unfortunately, all of it was old news by now. If he hadn't been buried in depositions over that kidnapping fiasco, he would have been in Blairville ASAP. Now he had to chase a cold trail. Amare Woolf and Thomas Herrington were most likely unrelated, but any lead was a good lead and anything that might ingratiate him to the Summoner's Guild could prove useful. The LCD blinked off and ejected his personal communication crystal, the seat belt indicator blinked on, and the airship finally descended into Blairville an hour later than anticipated. Neither engines nor fuel were what they used to be. Regardless, he had time enough to check in at the hotel and wash the jet lag off in the bath. For tonight's meet, he wore faded navy pants and a lime green T-shirt from the latest The Rolling Bones concert, and covered it up with the usual red mantle that matched his eyes and hair. Additionally, he pulled on a pair of running shoes in anticipation of being chased by an evil canine from beyond. On his way to the Lithium Hour, Noel failed to appreciate what a hovel the Underworld was, too distracted by the abundance of animals that ran loose in Blairville and his urge to pet them—did those deer have blue fur? Oh my Gaia. Thankfully, the tavern wasn't all bad either. Trees were a plus; he saw those only a bit more often than deer. He flashed his pass to Ibeyi and joined the others: Ringleader, Swollen Eye, Overpacked, and Snack Attack. What a nice looking bunch of dog chow. "Hi there. I'm Noel," he said and sat as far away from Swollen Eye as he could get. Leo's face practically screamed watch your wallet; Noel's gaze hovered between him and Godric's easily picked pack. "So... how about those blue deer? Are they cute or what?"
  6. desolate

    Blairville - THE TOWER - Forest and Library zones

    May I please join la biblioteca?
  7. desolate

    Nightingales can't live on fairy tales

    Adds properly disposed with non-lethal measures, Jackson heard the door open... and then gingerly close, as though a visitor had arrived. Through the thick fog, he only heard the rustling of what sounded like bushes and a heavy thud, preceding a tall and thick silhouette that waddled toward him and his prey, Gabriel. He nearly embedded his sword in its hideous bark-face, but within five feet he was able to ascertain it wasn't interested in him and allowed it to capture the halfling alderman in its branch-like phalanges. Its too-close together features and the way its pleased expression warped the wood was creepy. "We have your kind back home," Jackson said over Gabriel's whimpering. "Regenerating firewood is handy. Let cloaca-lover know I'm taking a look around." He disappeared into the fog and went room by room in the house from the dining room they were in, first to the kitchen, where he sheathed his sword and took a pear; second through the commons room, Scales' armor and weapons gathered up next to the now destroyed door; third up the stairs and into the kids bedrooms—where he was momentarily distracted by plush figures of strange animals he had yet to encounter—and finally he made his way to the master bedroom, the room that required the most care to investigate. With a final bite into his snack, he slipped the fruity remains into a pocket and wiped his sticky fingers off on his shirt, where yellowish trails of juice left finger-width stains. Once he came within five feet of one of the walls, one of the tripped wards caught his sixth sense, located behind a massive, impressionist-style portrait of Gabriel and his family. "Anyone know how to crack a safe?" he called out. Shatter could work here, but the spell would destroy everything else within 10 feet. Up in the sky, Scales was in an aerial grapple with Jericho. She spun through mid-air acrobatics multiple times in dizzying and sickening attempts to throw him physically or mentally off, all the while the two of them trading headbutts, elbows, and knees; and finally she settled on an abrupt dive-bomb into the tithe barn, Jericho on the front-end of a deadly plummet.
  8. desolate

    Need a Job? Like Books?

    I'm interested.
  9. desolate

    Questions about 'mention'ing

    This is a post that mentions supernal that I will edit in a few seconds. Mention removed. He should still have a notification. This edit now mentions @HotPizza. You tell me! I'll mention myself for good measure @desolate. Nope, nothing. To answer #2, notifications shouldn't be removed once received. It's similar to receiving a PM and deleting it: you should still have the notice you were PMed. Same deal for mentions.
  10. desolate

    Character and roleplay help

    No idea what's going on with the Tavern of Legend word counts since they seem arbitrary, but the current word count requirement for quests in Terrenus is 80 words and different quest levels only require a higher page count. Feel free to do quests there instead! My average word count is lower than 300 words, and there's nothing wrong with my characters.
  11. desolate

    Nightingales can't live on fairy tales

    "Why would you want to reproduce with her?" Jackson gagged. "Your children would be mutants." Curious, he watched Eddie scribble and nodded inattentively every time Jericho spoke. But when he replied punching the children would be fun, he perked up... and then immediately deflated, the disappointment palpable. Reacting quicker than a boonies guard had any right to, Scales bolted upright. She kept one of the children at bay with her superior reach, clutching the kid by the head and weathering blows against her arm; the other she pinned beneath the chair was seated at. She was no pushover, but the surprise combined with the preternatural strength combined with caution over hurting her own kin or her friend's kin had essentially locked her down. Gabriel, the small older gentleman, was completely overwhelmed. Even with the help of the two other adult humans in the room, they couldn't peel off the third child, who was battering them left and right. One of them broke a vase over the kid's head to no avail. Jackson pointed at the house and traced a circle with a finger in the air. When he spoke the word, "Omichli," a 40-foot sphere of thick fog appeared in the room and outside the house, heavily obscuring the goings-on and providing cover for them to approach. He crouched low and ran into the fog, not quite at a sprint since he was still smarting the last fight. The pond and the silts proved an inconvenient obstacle; he had to swim and climb his way up to the room, smash a window, and find a target in the fog. His first act was to disable the two extras: a pommel strike for each of them put them out of the picture, leaving only Gabriel and Captain Scales to struggle against the possessed children—the former at this point with broken forearms from meager attempts to defend himself and nearly unconscious, being quite old and under four feet tall.
  12. desolate

    Terrenus | AMA (Ask me anything)

    It's a town located in Terrenus made for Justice, it should follow the same design philosophy as Terrenus and Justice. But we'll see.
  13. desolate

    Terrenus | AMA (Ask me anything)

    My solution would be to have a technology level that defines where Terrenus diverged from the real world for cultural, historical, or supernatural reasons as a point of reference; and a separate magic level that defines stages of advancement after the technology level, with each tier becoming increasingly scarce. A metal elemental knight that could ruin a tank would be about as rare as a tank. Magic training in general, beyond using a few enchanted baubles, would be fairly expensive. From there, it becomes easier to provide a foundation for new regions. But I prefer tighter settings with more and better defined constraints. I don't like the conceit of the setting needing to be handwaved for stories to be possible, as opposed to just making them possible.
  14. desolate

    Terrenus | AMA (Ask me anything)

    Terrenus is a genre-confused anachronistic disaster. On one side you have Star Wars, on the other side you have a Renaissance Fair. It's like a convention accidentally booked two different cosplay events at the same venue on the same weekend. Personally, running around as a swordboy while there are guns and jets around makes my eyes bleed and causes me to speak in tongues, but consistency tends to be a casualty on freeform sites.
  15. desolate

    Nightingales can't live on fairy tales

    Jackson returned once the road was cleared, and promptly departed again on Jericho's insistence that someone take care of the warehouse bystanders. He showed up with the rat-ogre's decapitated head in hand, jiggled it at the lingering crowd, and declared there was an infestation. It was more than enough to move along anyone who thought about staying. "Glory be," one of the travelers muttered in prayer to Gaia as she shuffled away. Once he was back with Eddie and Jericho again, Jackson told them, "I had to chop the beast into a few pieces to fit it into our shelter." He squatted and picked up Owen's ankles. "I'll take care of this. Why don't the two of you make yourselves scarce while I dispose of the garbage?" Small town as it was, the guard wasn't going to wait forever to muster. Corpse in tow, Jackson dragged Owen's body behind him into the fields, where crop and tall grass obscured sight. He stood over Owen, cupped his open hand and scooped imaginary liquid from the air and muttered a cryptic two or three words. Without fanfare, dark green fluid appeared, and he emptied the sphere of acid onto the corpse. He repeated the process until what little was left could be scattered and buried with relative ease. Except the fancy robe and mustache comb—Jackson kept those. Later that night, the trio of jury, judge, and janitor found themselves on the other side of Chesterfield. A small creek emptied into a modest pond at the butt of an L-shaped estate seated on stilts. It was similar to an old Tudor-style home of mixed timber and brick. All of the prairie grass had been cleared to make way for a clean lawn and rows of colorful flowers. The only blemish on the wide expanse of property was a tithe barn, stocked with enough grain to make it clear that Gabriel was no farmer himself, and the only livestock to be seen was on his dinner plate. From behind the barn, the only physical hiding place, they could see through a tall and wide window the dining room. A middle-aged, inhumanly short man—a dwarf, gnome, or perhaps halfling—with a collar of white hair around a bald spot and a brown suit was forking meatloaf with a woman, another man, three kids, and another woman on the opposite end—this one a half of something from the intermittent red scales on her otherwise human, if slightly elongated features. "I say we barge in and cut them all to pieces!" Jackson whispered with barely contained excitement, blood still pumping from the rat-beast. He glanced sidelong at them, knowing Jericho's disposition but not Eddie's. At least one of them didn't seem to believe evil was a born quality. "But we would just punch the children out, naturally."
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