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onthebooksPLAYER INFORMATION
PLAYER NAME: Spider
OVER 18?: ye
PREFERRED CONTACT(S):![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
PaleAntiquarian, Disco CellarSpider#9984
OTHER CHARACTERS: None
CHARACTER INFORMATION
CHARACTER NAME: London Picard
CANON: World of Darkness (TTRPG, player character)
TIMELINE: Approximately now-ish
AGE: 90-ish, physically and mentally in their thirties
REFERENCE: The being now known as London Picard was a graduate student, cross-dressing to secure their place as a graduate researcher in chemistry at a prestigious all-male university in the 1950s. Bookish and quiet, it took some time before anybody noticed that one day the entered the university library and never came out.
London, by their natural curiosity or by sheer bad luck, had drawn the attention of the Fae. They were stolen away to the strange lands of Arcadia, where they were pressed into service in an infinite library, where they lived a marginal existence among the high shelves, surrounded by all the knowledge in the world, but forever in fear of the book-eating creatures that roamed the depths below, and those that might cast them down.
They finally escaped in the 2010s, now changed irrevocably by their experience. They had become a Changeling, and a Darkling Antiquarian. These changelings thrive in shadow, ravenously collecting knowledge and pulling details from memory with preternatural facility. Unbeknownst to changelings at large, their transformations are part of the Fae reproductive cycle: unable to create or innovate, they steal mortals. Those that remain trapped become part of the Fae realm, but those that escape can become Fae if they lose all sanity and draw too deeply on fairy magic. The transformation is rare, but London's strong ties to the occult are a risk.
Now paranoid, waspish and a stealthy combatant, they first established themselves in Springfield Massachusetts as a minion to a Changeling power broker and mastermind, who London quietly and hopelessly fell for. Her work created enemies, leading to her murder. London took revenge, and from the rubble of her power base, they became a more independent, focused force within the Changeling community. They became a local fixer among the Changeling population and a liaison to the government projects that keep the paranormal hidden from the world.
Their connection to the fearful Autumn Court also led them to act as the local seasonal Monarch several times, which put them in a position of authority when a Fae began drawing Springfield into their realm. They played a key role in foiling the plot, via research, resource acquisition, cajoling and deceiving local Changelings who morally objected to violence, and performing a final sacrifice. Over the long night of the battle, they had developed a friendship with a Changeling with a stinging wit and deep hatred of the Fae. She volunteered as a sacrifice to banish the invader. When all others refused to perform the ritual, London agreed to take up the knife. The city was saved with only minutes to spare.
London's work drew the attention of the Scarecrow Ministry, an organization of Autumn Court changelings who play the monsters of local legends and ghost stories to distract and scare away mortals from more terrible dangers than them. But the fear inspired by these activities can be addictive to the Autumn Court, pulling them closer to their part-fae nature....
PERSONALITY: London would like to spend more time with their books, thank you. They like solitude, or possibly mature company of likeminded individuals. But given the terror of their durance in Arcadia, they are too paranoid to ever be truly comfortable anywhere. They occasionally begin to suspect others of plotting against them, and react "appropriately". That can mean anything from withholding of crucial information, misdirection, light sabotage, all the way up to murder.
London remembers little of their time in Arcadia--a common side effect, but a very disturbing one for an information-obsessed creature. However, the impressions left by their tenuous existence there have left their mark. They never want to be put in such a vulnerable position again, and they will be quite mercenary in avoiding such a fate. For example, when they once detected early signs that the Fae may be about to manifest, they went to ground as fast and as completely as possible, even though that meant leaving others unprepared.
On the other hand, they are willing to strike mutually beneficial deals with those who they see as responsible individuals, or those capable of marshaling more resources than they can. This includes working with groups they don't necessarily agree with, such as the secret changeling-supremacist who was elected as Springfield mayor. London doesn't agree that Changelings are inherently better than mortals, but given their greater knowledge of magical dangers and the great risks involved in sharing that knowledge, they were willing to work for the mayor.
Overall, mortals are a risk and a resource to them. Due to the risks of drawing Fae attention, they will not willingly reveal their Changeling nature to others unless there is absolute, overriding need. As an Autumn Court Changeling, they feed on mortal fear, preferring relatively subtle means: sitting in a café full of students and talking about debt, for example.
London has made several reliable colleagues and working partners since their return, but few strong friendships, none presently living. Their work with the Scarecrow Ministry acted as something of a sabbatical, but has slowly loosened their social ties. The local Changeling community skewed young and carefree, which was both an irritation and seen as a risk to their security. Ideally, they'd like a community of academics and/or discrete and mature individuals to work with.
They are a terrible liar, but a very good withholder of information. Their only real persuasive techniques are to either twist the facts, or if all else fails, stare down their target until the person gives up.
They are non-binary, but due to their 1950s origin and disconnection from modern queer culture, they don't have the terms for it, instead choosing to strategically change the gendered aspects of their wardrobe and glare balefully at people until they give up trying to classify them. They are also asexual by nature, and presently aromantic due to trauma--they very much fell for their first employer upon their return to Earth, and her death was difficult for them.
ABILITIES: As a Changeling, London’s true appearance is hidden from those without magical senses, unless they choose to reveal themselves. Their “Mask” lookssuspiciously like Cara Gee as Camina Drummer human, but their “Mien” is unnaturally sharp-boned and thin, with skin the color, texture and scent of old books. The original French text of The Three Musketeers is invisibly printed onto their flesh, which becomes visible on their Mien when they are bruised, sunburned, or blush. Injuries, physical and mental, change the text into something more unnatural and eldritch.
Changelings can use magical abilities, charged by Willpower and their changeling Glamour. Willpower can be recharged by acting according to their Virtue or Vice (Fortitude or Wrath for London). As a Changeling tied to the Autumn Court, London recharges their Glamour by harvesting the fear of mortals.
All changelings are altered in accordance to aspects of the Fae they were stolen by, why they were stolen, the realm they were taken to, and the role they were forced into. These manifest as the various Changeling Kiths, which can have wildly different attributes. Darklings bonded with the shadow while in Fae captivity, and are blessed with preternatural quick-thinking and affinity for subterfuge and stealth, but they weaken during the day, especially if they’re in direct view of the sun.
Antiquarians learned a lot while in Faerie, and are similarly blessed in academics and investigation, and can use their Glamour to dredge up obscure facts about a topic from memory.
Autumn Court Changelings also have a bit ofAesthetic seasonal energy that follows them: cool breezes, rustling leaves, withering greenery, ripening autumn fruit. And, as a fun bonus, one might spot occult sigils around them--in random detritus, wood grain, wallpaper, etc.
Changeling: The Lost game mechanics splits abilities into merits and contracts, both of which can be supernatural in nature.
London's relevant merits include:
Eidetic Memory: a greater capacity to remember photographic detail of events, with increasing difficulty based on compromising factors (speed of motion, distractions, mental state, etc.)
Mantle: Harvest of Whispers: Tied to their place in the Autumn Court. A preternatural ability to occasionally learn useful rumors, at the cost of potentially drawing attention to themselves.
Kung-Fu: Neo.jpeg
London has specialties in Chemistry, Improvised Weapons, and Stare-Downs.
Their Contracts include
Darkness (rank 5):
1. Creeping Dread: Render one or multiple targets susceptible to fear or intimidation. Works best against intruders in your home.
2. Night’s Subtle Distractions: Blend into the background, becoming more unnoticeable rather than invisible. Works best outdoors at night.
3. Balm of Unwakeable Slumber: Prevent a sleeping target from being woken by disturbances. Works best against someone in their own bed at night.
4. Boon of the Scuttling Spider: Move across solid surfaces, regardless of angle. Works best across outdoor walls at night.
5. Touch of Paralyzing Shudder: Inflict spasms of fear that half motor control for the target. Works best on targets that are already isolated and unnerved.
Fleeting Autumn (1)
1. Witches’ Intuition: Learn one of the subject’s fears. Works best if the subject does not know the Changeling’s name.
Blessing of Forgetfulness (3): Allows the user to erase any one memory from the target's mind, but curses the user to suffer a dramatic failure the next time they need to get someone to believe a necessary lie. Works best to erase memories of the user’s betrayal of the target.
Note: Obviously, all of those powers that affect others are player opt-in, and their use will otherwise be avoided.
PERSONAL EFFECTS:
A flip-knife
Antique cold iron hedge trimmers
A briefcase enchanted for extra bashing damage
A cursed pair of shears. While they are on someone's person, it's impossible for them to run.
A frightening mask enchanted to magically seem like a real face of the wearer, even if magically probed.
A different mask that acts as their badge of office in the Scarecrow Ministry. Wearing it transforms their appearance into that of a monster.
Lost Fobwatch: Lets the user move twice as fast for a short period, at the cost of moving slower at the start of the next time they end up in danger.
Mother's Love Locket: Displays the worst fear of the target, but has a 50% chance of doing the same to the weilder.
Unmaking Needle: draw a drop of blood to unravel all cloth in the vicinity
Persephone's Promise: pomegranate seeds that magically compel the consumer to spend time and effort on whoever fed them.
PRIZED POSSESSION: A copy of The Three Musketeers in the original French.
CRAU PREMISE:
SAMPLE
SAMPLE: Oh no. No, no no no no no. This was all wrong. There hadn't been any signs. They hadn't even done anything particularly terrible lately! They'd been staying in the cabin the Ministry kept out in the woods, scaring off the occasional roving bands of hikers and teenagers. They'd even been getting along quite well with the Thing in the woods, as long as they kept their mask on. It only occasionally broke in, and when it did, it just stared at them. That was tollerable. That was--not safe, but it was routine.
And then the world had dissolved. And now they were somewhere new. Somewhere strange and unreal.
They fled to the rooftops, panting for beneath their mask, but too afraid to take it off. They'd escaped. Why were they here?
"Nice night, isn't it?" someone cheerfully said. London jumped. There was a man leaning on a railing a few meters away, an electronic cigarette in hand, looking out over the city. He hadn't turned to look at them.
They froze, uncertain whether to fling themselves back down the wall, attack, or... something. This wasn't how things usually went.
Did they still have their mask on? Yes. Good. Also, bad. Usually people had a reaction to their appearance with it on. A Minister in their regalia was meant to drive away mortals through sheer revulsion and terror.
They weren't quite sure what to do with a man that didn't seem bothered by the sudden arrival of a faceless, spindly thing with an uneasy relationship to conventional geometry.
"Where--" they said, voice dry and cracking. They hadn't talked to anybody in months. Usually never would with the mask on, but they didn't feel safe taking it off now. "Where is this. Whose is this." This had to be back there. Each realm was controlled by somebody, and they all had their preferences. Their weaknesses. Ways to escape. The sooner they did, the safer--
"Proxy Hotel's down that way," the man was still staring out over the city. He brought the electronic cigarette to his lips, and kept talking with it in his mouth, voice completely unmuffled. "If you're looking to grab a bite to eat, try the Hex Diner."
They drew back into the shadow, beginning to circle the man, their heart still pounding. "Where did you say that was?"
"Morbi turpis risus, faucibus nec erat non, varius commodo sapien." What. The man took the cigarette out of his mouth, blew out a cloud of steam. Precisely the same one he'd exhaled a moment ago. What?!
"Ah. Of course," they muttered, voice further unsteadied by a panicked little laugh. They crouched low. "Thank you for your time."
They grabbed the man's legs and flipped him over the railing.
It wasn't the smartest thing to do. They knew that. But that thing had heard their voice coming from behind the mask. And nothing that responded to a question with part of the Lorem bloody Ipsum could be trusted.
They took a few more moments to catch their breath, listening to the night around them. There was an occasional squawk of voices from the street below. People seeing the body. Damn. They needed a better hiding spot. But there was that same unnerving detachment to the voices. Like they were just going through the motions, rather than actually responding to the pieces of somebody on the pavement.
Still zinging with adrenaline, they scuttled away across the walls, making a leap across an alleyway to climb up to a higher vantage point. Get their bearings. Make a plan.
That very nearly happened, but after a couple hours of careful surveying and sketching, they happened to glance down at the buildings directly below them.
The man was back on the roof.
PLAYER NAME: Spider
OVER 18?: ye
PREFERRED CONTACT(S):
OTHER CHARACTERS: None
CHARACTER INFORMATION
CHARACTER NAME: London Picard
CANON: World of Darkness (TTRPG, player character)
TIMELINE: Approximately now-ish
AGE: 90-ish, physically and mentally in their thirties
REFERENCE: The being now known as London Picard was a graduate student, cross-dressing to secure their place as a graduate researcher in chemistry at a prestigious all-male university in the 1950s. Bookish and quiet, it took some time before anybody noticed that one day the entered the university library and never came out.
London, by their natural curiosity or by sheer bad luck, had drawn the attention of the Fae. They were stolen away to the strange lands of Arcadia, where they were pressed into service in an infinite library, where they lived a marginal existence among the high shelves, surrounded by all the knowledge in the world, but forever in fear of the book-eating creatures that roamed the depths below, and those that might cast them down.
They finally escaped in the 2010s, now changed irrevocably by their experience. They had become a Changeling, and a Darkling Antiquarian. These changelings thrive in shadow, ravenously collecting knowledge and pulling details from memory with preternatural facility. Unbeknownst to changelings at large, their transformations are part of the Fae reproductive cycle: unable to create or innovate, they steal mortals. Those that remain trapped become part of the Fae realm, but those that escape can become Fae if they lose all sanity and draw too deeply on fairy magic. The transformation is rare, but London's strong ties to the occult are a risk.
Now paranoid, waspish and a stealthy combatant, they first established themselves in Springfield Massachusetts as a minion to a Changeling power broker and mastermind, who London quietly and hopelessly fell for. Her work created enemies, leading to her murder. London took revenge, and from the rubble of her power base, they became a more independent, focused force within the Changeling community. They became a local fixer among the Changeling population and a liaison to the government projects that keep the paranormal hidden from the world.
Their connection to the fearful Autumn Court also led them to act as the local seasonal Monarch several times, which put them in a position of authority when a Fae began drawing Springfield into their realm. They played a key role in foiling the plot, via research, resource acquisition, cajoling and deceiving local Changelings who morally objected to violence, and performing a final sacrifice. Over the long night of the battle, they had developed a friendship with a Changeling with a stinging wit and deep hatred of the Fae. She volunteered as a sacrifice to banish the invader. When all others refused to perform the ritual, London agreed to take up the knife. The city was saved with only minutes to spare.
London's work drew the attention of the Scarecrow Ministry, an organization of Autumn Court changelings who play the monsters of local legends and ghost stories to distract and scare away mortals from more terrible dangers than them. But the fear inspired by these activities can be addictive to the Autumn Court, pulling them closer to their part-fae nature....
PERSONALITY: London would like to spend more time with their books, thank you. They like solitude, or possibly mature company of likeminded individuals. But given the terror of their durance in Arcadia, they are too paranoid to ever be truly comfortable anywhere. They occasionally begin to suspect others of plotting against them, and react "appropriately". That can mean anything from withholding of crucial information, misdirection, light sabotage, all the way up to murder.
London remembers little of their time in Arcadia--a common side effect, but a very disturbing one for an information-obsessed creature. However, the impressions left by their tenuous existence there have left their mark. They never want to be put in such a vulnerable position again, and they will be quite mercenary in avoiding such a fate. For example, when they once detected early signs that the Fae may be about to manifest, they went to ground as fast and as completely as possible, even though that meant leaving others unprepared.
On the other hand, they are willing to strike mutually beneficial deals with those who they see as responsible individuals, or those capable of marshaling more resources than they can. This includes working with groups they don't necessarily agree with, such as the secret changeling-supremacist who was elected as Springfield mayor. London doesn't agree that Changelings are inherently better than mortals, but given their greater knowledge of magical dangers and the great risks involved in sharing that knowledge, they were willing to work for the mayor.
Overall, mortals are a risk and a resource to them. Due to the risks of drawing Fae attention, they will not willingly reveal their Changeling nature to others unless there is absolute, overriding need. As an Autumn Court Changeling, they feed on mortal fear, preferring relatively subtle means: sitting in a café full of students and talking about debt, for example.
London has made several reliable colleagues and working partners since their return, but few strong friendships, none presently living. Their work with the Scarecrow Ministry acted as something of a sabbatical, but has slowly loosened their social ties. The local Changeling community skewed young and carefree, which was both an irritation and seen as a risk to their security. Ideally, they'd like a community of academics and/or discrete and mature individuals to work with.
They are a terrible liar, but a very good withholder of information. Their only real persuasive techniques are to either twist the facts, or if all else fails, stare down their target until the person gives up.
They are non-binary, but due to their 1950s origin and disconnection from modern queer culture, they don't have the terms for it, instead choosing to strategically change the gendered aspects of their wardrobe and glare balefully at people until they give up trying to classify them. They are also asexual by nature, and presently aromantic due to trauma--they very much fell for their first employer upon their return to Earth, and her death was difficult for them.
ABILITIES: As a Changeling, London’s true appearance is hidden from those without magical senses, unless they choose to reveal themselves. Their “Mask” looks
Changelings can use magical abilities, charged by Willpower and their changeling Glamour. Willpower can be recharged by acting according to their Virtue or Vice (Fortitude or Wrath for London). As a Changeling tied to the Autumn Court, London recharges their Glamour by harvesting the fear of mortals.
All changelings are altered in accordance to aspects of the Fae they were stolen by, why they were stolen, the realm they were taken to, and the role they were forced into. These manifest as the various Changeling Kiths, which can have wildly different attributes. Darklings bonded with the shadow while in Fae captivity, and are blessed with preternatural quick-thinking and affinity for subterfuge and stealth, but they weaken during the day, especially if they’re in direct view of the sun.
Antiquarians learned a lot while in Faerie, and are similarly blessed in academics and investigation, and can use their Glamour to dredge up obscure facts about a topic from memory.
Autumn Court Changelings also have a bit of
Changeling: The Lost game mechanics splits abilities into merits and contracts, both of which can be supernatural in nature.
London's relevant merits include:
Eidetic Memory: a greater capacity to remember photographic detail of events, with increasing difficulty based on compromising factors (speed of motion, distractions, mental state, etc.)
Mantle: Harvest of Whispers: Tied to their place in the Autumn Court. A preternatural ability to occasionally learn useful rumors, at the cost of potentially drawing attention to themselves.
Kung-Fu: Neo.jpeg
London has specialties in Chemistry, Improvised Weapons, and Stare-Downs.
Their Contracts include
Darkness (rank 5):
1. Creeping Dread: Render one or multiple targets susceptible to fear or intimidation. Works best against intruders in your home.
2. Night’s Subtle Distractions: Blend into the background, becoming more unnoticeable rather than invisible. Works best outdoors at night.
3. Balm of Unwakeable Slumber: Prevent a sleeping target from being woken by disturbances. Works best against someone in their own bed at night.
4. Boon of the Scuttling Spider: Move across solid surfaces, regardless of angle. Works best across outdoor walls at night.
5. Touch of Paralyzing Shudder: Inflict spasms of fear that half motor control for the target. Works best on targets that are already isolated and unnerved.
Fleeting Autumn (1)
1. Witches’ Intuition: Learn one of the subject’s fears. Works best if the subject does not know the Changeling’s name.
Blessing of Forgetfulness (3): Allows the user to erase any one memory from the target's mind, but curses the user to suffer a dramatic failure the next time they need to get someone to believe a necessary lie. Works best to erase memories of the user’s betrayal of the target.
Note: Obviously, all of those powers that affect others are player opt-in, and their use will otherwise be avoided.
PERSONAL EFFECTS:
A flip-knife
Antique cold iron hedge trimmers
A briefcase enchanted for extra bashing damage
A cursed pair of shears. While they are on someone's person, it's impossible for them to run.
A frightening mask enchanted to magically seem like a real face of the wearer, even if magically probed.
A different mask that acts as their badge of office in the Scarecrow Ministry. Wearing it transforms their appearance into that of a monster.
Lost Fobwatch: Lets the user move twice as fast for a short period, at the cost of moving slower at the start of the next time they end up in danger.
Mother's Love Locket: Displays the worst fear of the target, but has a 50% chance of doing the same to the weilder.
Unmaking Needle: draw a drop of blood to unravel all cloth in the vicinity
Persephone's Promise: pomegranate seeds that magically compel the consumer to spend time and effort on whoever fed them.
PRIZED POSSESSION: A copy of The Three Musketeers in the original French.
CRAU PREMISE:
SAMPLE
SAMPLE: Oh no. No, no no no no no. This was all wrong. There hadn't been any signs. They hadn't even done anything particularly terrible lately! They'd been staying in the cabin the Ministry kept out in the woods, scaring off the occasional roving bands of hikers and teenagers. They'd even been getting along quite well with the Thing in the woods, as long as they kept their mask on. It only occasionally broke in, and when it did, it just stared at them. That was tollerable. That was--not safe, but it was routine.
And then the world had dissolved. And now they were somewhere new. Somewhere strange and unreal.
They fled to the rooftops, panting for beneath their mask, but too afraid to take it off. They'd escaped. Why were they here?
"Nice night, isn't it?" someone cheerfully said. London jumped. There was a man leaning on a railing a few meters away, an electronic cigarette in hand, looking out over the city. He hadn't turned to look at them.
They froze, uncertain whether to fling themselves back down the wall, attack, or... something. This wasn't how things usually went.
Did they still have their mask on? Yes. Good. Also, bad. Usually people had a reaction to their appearance with it on. A Minister in their regalia was meant to drive away mortals through sheer revulsion and terror.
They weren't quite sure what to do with a man that didn't seem bothered by the sudden arrival of a faceless, spindly thing with an uneasy relationship to conventional geometry.
"Where--" they said, voice dry and cracking. They hadn't talked to anybody in months. Usually never would with the mask on, but they didn't feel safe taking it off now. "Where is this. Whose is this." This had to be back there. Each realm was controlled by somebody, and they all had their preferences. Their weaknesses. Ways to escape. The sooner they did, the safer--
"Proxy Hotel's down that way," the man was still staring out over the city. He brought the electronic cigarette to his lips, and kept talking with it in his mouth, voice completely unmuffled. "If you're looking to grab a bite to eat, try the Hex Diner."
They drew back into the shadow, beginning to circle the man, their heart still pounding. "Where did you say that was?"
"Morbi turpis risus, faucibus nec erat non, varius commodo sapien." What. The man took the cigarette out of his mouth, blew out a cloud of steam. Precisely the same one he'd exhaled a moment ago. What?!
"Ah. Of course," they muttered, voice further unsteadied by a panicked little laugh. They crouched low. "Thank you for your time."
They grabbed the man's legs and flipped him over the railing.
It wasn't the smartest thing to do. They knew that. But that thing had heard their voice coming from behind the mask. And nothing that responded to a question with part of the Lorem bloody Ipsum could be trusted.
They took a few more moments to catch their breath, listening to the night around them. There was an occasional squawk of voices from the street below. People seeing the body. Damn. They needed a better hiding spot. But there was that same unnerving detachment to the voices. Like they were just going through the motions, rather than actually responding to the pieces of somebody on the pavement.
Still zinging with adrenaline, they scuttled away across the walls, making a leap across an alleyway to climb up to a higher vantage point. Get their bearings. Make a plan.
That very nearly happened, but after a couple hours of careful surveying and sketching, they happened to glance down at the buildings directly below them.
The man was back on the roof.
