Cortex Steampunk Game 1 OOC Discussion

[Chiyako]

Missy sounds fun!

I haven't fully fleshed out the mad scientist, who is probably the one I'll end up going with. But I will once it comes time for nailing down the characters in depth.

[MagnificentBastard]

12 minutes ago, WickedCadrach said:

Ok, last one to the character idea party, lol. I have a more detailed story for her, but I think keeping back a few things to come out in roleplay is fun. 

 

"Yes-sir! Genu-INE snake-oil! Secret medicine passed down by a hundred generations of savage witch-doctors and wisemen. Professor Whitty has spent years studying the science behind this medical marvel, this cure-all panacea that he learned from a Lokonchee shaman in his forbidden medicine cave where no other white man has gone before! 50 cents a bottle! A case for five dollars, and you'll never need another medicine for the rest of your very, very long life!" -Missy Fisher, age 12

Millicent 'Missy' Fisher

When Clarence Whitty—also known as 'Professor Whitty, the Scorpion Scholar and Cobra King of Houston'—found ten-year-old Missy on the side of the road, there had been a moment of mutual understanding like two coyotes scenting each other across an open field. And so even nine years after he'd wordlessly helped her aboard his rattling caravan and given her a taste of brandy to help with the pain in her blistered feet, neither had asked the other where they'd come from or where they'd originally been headed before their paths crossed. 

Over the years of traveling with the conman, Missy had found she could use her flair for the dramatic to put on convincing seances and spook shows in dark, candlelit back rooms. And while Missy didn't know real specters and magic from a bullfrog's fart, she knew she could play to what the average rancher and city clerk thought they knew about the great beyond. So as Clarence Whitty's name accumulated more and more mud, slowly Missy Fisher became the main attraction of their little one-wagon show. 

By eighteen, her relationship with Professor Whitty had become decidedly less paternal. The man had been her teacher, employer, and caregiver for eight years, and now he was her lover too. But Missy was also coming into her own, and what she learned from Clarence, she took to the other men in the towns they visited. At first, her fellow con-artist didn't seem to mind sharing a younger woman's affection, but soon he became bitter, jealous, and possessive. When he came to the caravan drunk one night, ranting about how they ought to stop all this rambling around and get married, Missy had had enough. She packed her belongings and took her spook show independent.

(appending a possible portrait for Missy Fisher)
 

  Hide contents

 

Why I do I feel young Millicent its going to be attracted to dominant, inappropriately older men as a result of her complicated upbringing?

I love it.

[WickedCadrach]

I just realized we already have a Millicent in the group

Millicent "Millie" Gearhart

and I'm bringing in Millicent "Missy" Fisher. 

@StarlitSiren, how do you feel about identity confusion shenanigans between Millie and Missy? I jumped on because I initially wanted to see if I should change my character name, but now I'm imagining the fun of having two very different Millicents in an era of letters and telegrams, with very little to verify identify. 

 

Edited 22 hours ago by WickedCadrach

[MagnificentBastard]

This is my attempt at biography for my character similar to what @WickedCadrach it really helped me solidify how I see my character, I had fudge the timeline a bit but I think it mostly works:

The Enigmatic Viscount: Edmund Blackwood's Journey to the Wild West

New York Herald, October 1880

Viscount Edmund Blackwood, is a name that needs no introduction, imbued into the collective consciousness with both intrigue and scandal, has once again captured the imagination of the public. This time, his journey takes him to the untamed wilderness of the American West, a frontier of untold mysteries and adventures. As the Viscount moves from one grand estate to another, his reputation as a womanizer and a man of enigmatic charm precedes him, leaving a trail of whispers and speculations in his wake.

The sole heir of the Blackwood is reportedly in his mid-forties, yet he remains an enigma etched against the backdrop of his family's storied legacy. Public records offer a mere glimpse into a life that has fueled whispers of agelessness amongst Britain's elite. His global wanderings have only deepened the mystique, each journey layering onto the tapestry of speculation that surrounds him.

In the bustling streets of London, it wa rumored that Edmund had been involved in a high-society affair with the infamous courtesan, Lillie Langtry. Their liaison, though brief, left a lasting impression on the actress, fueling the rumors of his sexual prowess and the intensity of his passions. This scandalous encounter was but a prelude to the many adventures that would follow, each one adding to the allure and mystery that surrounds the Viscount.

Edmund's connections to the arcane are as intriguing as they are vast. It is rumored that he is a member of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, a secret society dedicated to the study and practice of the occult. Additionally, whispers circulate of his ties to the Rosicrucian Order, another esoteric group that delves into the mysteries of the universe and the human soul. It all adds a layer of mystery to his already enigmatic persona, suggesting a depth of knowledge and power that few can comprehend.

Among the whispers of his past and the promises of his future, there is one name that often surfaces in connection with Edmund: Oscar Wilde. The infamous author and playwright is said to have crossed paths with the Viscount on more than one occasion, their shared interest in the darker aspects of human nature and the occult forging a bond that transcends the boundaries of society. The rumors of their encounters add a layer of intrigue to Edmund's already mysterious reputation, suggesting a world of secrets and hidden truths.

As Edmund ventured into the untamed wilderness of the West, the whispers of his past began to take on a new life. In the saloons and gambling halls of Dodge City, tales of his encounters with the notorious Belle Starr, the "Bandit Queen," circulated with a mix of awe and trepidation. Their paths had crossed in a chance meeting, a dance of seduction and danger that left both parties forever changed. Belle, with her fiery spirit and rebellious nature, was said to have been both enthralled and terrified by Edmund's dominance, a testament to the power he held over those he chose to captivate.

His constant companion is a pendant, a family heirloom passed down through generations of Blackwood heads. Bearing the crest of a stag amidst ancient oaks, it's more than mere jewelry; whispers claim it pulses with an otherworldly energy, a conduit for the family's rumored magicks. Even in the remote corners of the frontier, tales circulate about the pendant's power and its connection to Blackwood's alleged involvement in sexual magick.

The question in everyone's mind is, what draws a man of Blackwood's stature to the American West? Some say he seeks a legendary artifact, rumored to amplify the wearer's magical abilities. Others believe he is fleeing a scandal too great even for London society to bear. Whatever the reason, one thing is certain: Edmund Blackwood's arrival in the West promises to be anything but quiet, and the echoes of his presence will undoubtedly reverberate through the frontier for years to come.

[AsBloodTurnsEverCold]

Wow these are great!

[StarlitSiren]

LOVE the characters,

@WickedCadrach I am super on board with that! Where are you all finding these beautiful portraiture? 

 

[MagnificentBastard]

23 minutes ago, StarlitSiren said:

LOVE the characters,

@WickedCadrach I am super on board with that! Where are you all finding these beautiful portraiture? 

 

AI generation in my case

[StarlitSiren]

Spoiler

 

Name:              Millicent 'Millie'  Gerenhart 'Gearhart'

Age:                  22

Sexuality:        Repressed (Bisexual)

Bio:

Millicent knows machines, even if she doesn't know people. Socially awkward, tactless, kind of endearing if you can handle her latest hyper fixations, Miss 'Gearhart' lives on the fringe, grew up taking apart clockwork mechanisms in the stolen moments that were her own and- as a woman grown- is one of the finest inventors and tinkerers outside of the Big-name professors. She's creative, quick to invent something overly complex for a simple problem, and will talk your ear off for HOURS if you don't stop her.

Millie never made it as a big name inventor despite her aptitude, in part due to a crippling difficulty in maintaining attention on any one thing, and a fierce pride and perfectionism that often leads to either hyper fixating on one invention long past it's already been proven unworkable, or the frustrating need to turn away from something not working exactly as she envisioned. This combined with her somewhat difficult family and living arrangements meant that her 'hobby' was disapproved of and not outright banned from, but wasn't able to dedicate her life too it. This is not to say Millicent has not managed to create wonderous things.

She is a renowned gunsmith- even if a terrible shot herself- and is skilled at clockwork machining, especially where it comes to odd knickknacks with very niche applications; such as the goggles of her own invention which she can use to analyse mineral composition by snapshotting pictures at different visual frequencies...  and then taking the time to develop them. She pioneered a glove that can fit multiple tools on as extensions to herself, be they for engineering or tinkering or... theoretically, lockpicking or punching someone out with an electric shock. Millie thinks on her feet and can throw things together quicker than expected... even if they don't always work exactly is intended.

 

History

Millie hails from 'Civilisation', the Big city, a place where industry has exploded and expanded in the last two decades, and since the discovery and applications of  <Redacted> (Our mystery element, if that's ok?). The daughter of Arthur Gerenhart, a trader with his fingers in multiple businesses, he raised Millie and her sister, Mary, to be his family heirs in lieu of the son he'd always wanted. Mary took to the high life like a Working man to a saloon, but Millie never quite fit in there. As much as she loved the technology, the conveniences and the wealth of 'modern life', all that really awaited her was a marriage at her father's suggestion, more dealing with fancy shindigs, and people.

So when the rebellious young tinkerer, enamoured by machines as she was, saw a job advert for a small town far, far on the fringe, she took it and spirited away one night. Millie left a note, and while she has corresponded with her Father and Sister since leaving them over a year ago for the Fringe, all that has amounted so far are threats to come and drag her back. Millicent, however, is confident that they would never truly do that- not because they would respect her wishes, but because of the effort and the public display.

So Millie moved into town as the little settlement's new engineer. When the train comes down from civilisation, on the one, single line, it's her job to make sure everything is working and safe. Millie 'Gearhart' (as she calls herself, seeking some distance from her actual family name) operates out of a little hovel by the train station, where she offers her services to the townsfolk in repairing, smithing, and creating all manner of queer machines. Some of them even work; but that's the nature of invention.

The spicy stuff

Speaking of inventions, Millie created a clockwork *ahem* unit to help her manage any distractions. It's not exactly quiet, but simulates a... partner.

Millie's always been very sexually repressed, and as she's gotten into her late teens and into her early twenties, she has only found herself more wound up and distractible, her gaze getting stuck on handsome boys and pretty girls. There's a secret book of blueprints in her collection with some incredibly lewd ideas, ranging from units such as her faithful gadget that could be worn by a female partner, and restraints or chokers that might administer a little buzz.

Of course, outside of testing her inventions solo, she would first need to learn to talk to other human beings like... well, an actual person.

Edited 16 hours ago by StarlitSiren

[WritesNaughtyStories]

@StarlitSiren, check Sexy.ai or OpenArt.ai

[StarlitSiren]

6 minutes ago, MagnificentBastard said:

AI generation in my case

I've had so little luck generating my own 

[Chiyako]

Once I finish with tasks I have required for the day I will throw up a thing for my character, since it appears we have reached that point of things.

Which also gives me some more time to hammer out all the little details like shifting her from being a true Vampire into some weird not-actually-a-Vampire-but-definitely-rumored-in-places-to-be-one sort of thing.

[StarlitSiren]

Edited character above with my own image generation attempt! I actually think it looks good!

[MagnificentBastard]

41 minutes ago, StarlitSiren said:

Edited character above with my own image generation attempt! I actually think it looks good!

She is quite pretty, I can already see my character attemptimg to bed the "Millicent" sisters.

Edited 18 hours ago by MagnificentBastard

[WritesNaughtyStories]

Millie looks great.

I give you Saha Sky Eyes:

[StarlitSiren]

LOOK AT HER

[IsabellaRose]

1 hour ago, Chiyako said:

Once I finish with tasks I have required for the day I will throw up a thing for my character, since it appears we have reached that point of things.

Which also gives me some more time to hammer out all the little details like shifting her from being a true Vampire into some weird not-actually-a-Vampire-but-definitely-rumored-in-places-to-be-one sort of thing.

Honestly, I adore the idea that people think she's a vampire and she's not. That provides so much fun potential for NPC reactions and interactions in town.

[WickedCadrach]

3 hours ago, StarlitSiren said:

Where are you all finding these beautiful portraiture? 

I love the art for your character! I do use AI a good bit, but in this case, I was just flipping through Pinterest. You can still find good stuff on there if you tack on 'character art' or 'concept art' to whatever you're looking for. 

[AsBloodTurnsEverCold]

Fairly cliff notes version of the character I am going with right now cause a lot of details about them could change while we set things up: 
I've decided to do it as a journal entry because I felt it kinda of fit with the inspirations which includes y'all. Obviously my ability to write in the style of the time is very limited please don't hurt me I'm just having a little fun and getting a feel for the mood. 

Hope the details are clear. 
 

Spoiler

From the Journal of Kojo Amankona PhD also known as Carlo Amankona PhD. 
July 1876 (4 years ago) 

"Thirty years ago I was granted two names. The first of my names was given by more poor mother, Kojo. Born on Monday. The second by the 'kindly'' head of house who held us property....Arnold Thane. He named me Carlo, after Carlo Zucchi his favorite composer. I still hold two names. It has been 22 years since Mr. Thane's son, Donald, after stumbling upon the rare celebration we were allowed and took me as his assistant. It has been 18 years since he convinced Kindly Arnold Thane to grant me manumission and to his aid in attending the college in Berlin. I still hold history. It has not taken it from me yet.  

Those accursed notes, that thrice damned "Other Theory" I stumbled upon while helping clean the house of Professor Babel who took his life...all because of that.... and begun this twisted journey of mine.  It has been 16 years since. I was a fool then as I am now. I should have burned that accursed "music" theory when I encountered it but that sweet sound...it called to me. I listened. I learned. How could I not? A strange thing in a language of which no one knew! The notes in languages from all about this globe, and in languages long gone? An eager fool I was. It was not worth it. It was not worth it to let it change my eyes. I did not heed the warnings I found in all the sites and places. I ignored the warnings. 

The fame and fortune. The respect beyond this body of mine. It was not worth the constant sound I hear in my head...or so I tell myself to keep it abated. God help me my heart is torn in twain over it but all I've done since I learned it. All I've seen? I know it was by my hands. The music. They sometimes tell me of their strange dreams. They tell me that as they heard me they were not themselves. The violence. The debauchery. The melancholy. It does that to them...or I do. I do not know. I suppose I'm no better in truth which is why it takes control so easily, or I give it form in the music so simply. 

I debate if I could stop playing while I travel. For every man I am made to kill I wonder if I should simply let it do to me what it did to Professor Babel but...music is my life. It has been my life. I am a Musician by blood, the name I was given even in its cruel circumstance was an omen. A good omen. I am an Archaeologist by trade. I earned that. I did master the guitar, the piano, the flute, and the violin.  It did not give me that. 

I am the one who learned to use his voice. I have played for noble men and women although...I suppose I am the one who has played in those bars too and the one who had enjoyed the company I have willingly. I am the one who traveled the world. Greedy and Selfish perhaps but I know that it is all mine. This accursed theory will not take it from me. I can't say I ever imagined myself a gunman, or imagined I'd travel among the cattle herders but its must be done. I will take my life back no matter what it takes. 

I still have history. It has not taken it from me yet. 
I just have to make that thought louder than the music. 


I will write this again as I have since this began.
I will. 

....I must play. I can hear it again." 
 

[IsabellaRose]

OKAY!! It's time!

Go to the Character Creation section of the Cortex Rules Reference thread, and copy out the template for a character sheet.

Then scroll down to the Pathways section and follow the instructions for Step 1: Origins. Select one of the five origins. Before you add things to your Character sheet, head over to the Game 1 Miro Board. You'll find your name on a square and all the arrows already drawn to connect you to the other PCs. Add your character name to the square. Just click in the square and type. There's already a circle attached to your square with an arrow - add a name to it. This is an NPC that's important to you. Ideally it's someone who will be around during the roleplay, but it can be someone from your past. Keep in mind that anything you put on the board can later be connected to other PCs, other NPCs, locations, etc. This builds a web of interconnected things for the setting. It's super cool, and it makes it better than you might have made it by yourself. Trust me, it's the most fun aspect of the system.

Once you've added your NPC, come back to the Pathways steps and Add or Step Up Relationships, Values, Distinctions, Abilities, and Resources as appropriate for your chosen Origin. 

[Chiyako]

The Unpublished Notes of James D. McKillinghall

November 3rd, 1879
It started five years ago. The murmurings of drunkards. A group of men from somewhere to the east of Europe. They spoke of monsters. Ghouls. Creatures of the night. I paid it no heed until they spoke more solemnly, not with the sort of wild boisterous ravings of men enjoying themselves over mugs of ale, but of men speaking of something which should not be spoken about. A few more drinks and they spilled everything. I met them a dozen more times after that.

They set me upon this path. I am the hunter of truth. Tomorrow I venture into the lair of the wolf, a wolf which I have been seeking for years.

She has accepted my request for an interview. A biographical treatise! That such an excuse worked, I almost cannot believe it myself! If she had known what I know then I might have been worried. Colette is the name that she has claimed. Colette Moreau. A wandering socialite from some small northern province in France. Nobility, which is at least close to what I know to be true. It is also true that she arrived in the states via France. This is where the truth goes cold.

Maramures. Crisana. Banat. Transylvania. I have yet to discover exactly where her life began, but it must have been somewhere in this region of Europe. She grew up near some small village nestled within the Carpathians. She lived in an old castle settled atop an older plateau, or a hill, or a mountain. Murmurs of truth hidden within rumors. Nobody seems to know much of her early days. Not an exact home, not a portrait, not even a date of birth. I do know that she was not always alone.

She was of noble birth, whether distant or not is also speculative. They were well off. A castle or a walled-in manor. A family of recluses. Even so they held considerable sway within their community. Gifts were expected, and those who did not pay were visited by ghoulish men. People went missing. Howling beasts infested the impenetrable forests of that godforsaken land, but the people of that realm understood where the true danger lie: Castle von Vulf.

The rumors spoke of monstrous deeds. Girls disappeared. Livestock were slaughtered and drained of their blood. Famine swept the land. Never did the sun fully shine upon their lands. The people were frightened. Then came the Helsinks.

Nobles from the lands of northern Europe, the Helsinks had arrived to save the poor people of the land. It started with an investigation, as these things should. Witnesses told horrible tales of gaunt pale-skinned men and women drinking the blood of kidnapped children. When the Helsinks first attempted to confront the von Vulf family they were, to put it lightly, unsuccessful. In the ensuing conflict which erupted a few of their own had been captured. They were set upon blunted spikes, impaled and put out as a warning for all to see. Witnesses told tales of these poor wretches living in agony for days, even weeks before they mercifully succumbed to their wounds. This travesty would become their undoing.

With hearts set ablaze with the flame of God's holy wrath the Helsinks led the people of the land in a crusade against the godless von Vulfs! It is said that many lost their lives. That they fought courageously against ghouls and beasts. It is said that the patriarch of the von Vulf family was a monster of a man, that he tore men asunder with his bare hands, that he tore away the throats of villagers with gleaming fangs of white, that he shrugged off gunfire and sword and was only finally brought low by a wooden stake to the heart. The men I interviewed spoke too of the matriach, that she attempted to seduce the Helsink men who found her, that they resisted her temptress words and drove silver swords into her heart.

They spoke of the children. The von Vulf family consisted of at least two girls and a boy. Colette was one of these children. Frail. Skin as pale as the moon. The Devil's red eyes. Sharpened teeth. Hair pale blonde. Long pointed ears, unmistankely inhuman. The eldest daughter of the von Vulf family resisted her arrest by the men of Helsink and fell to her death. The boy, youngest of the von Vulf family, was put peacefully to rest by mercy of the Helsink patriarch. It is said that the youngest daughter threw herself from a tower into the river of a canyon.

This is how Colette survived. The people I interviewed believed her dead until I showed them clippings from the papers of western Europe. There were sightings of this foul remnant. Everywhere she ventured death followed. Corpses appeared. Ghouls and ghosts. Murder. Disappearances. The Hull Werewolf of England. The Werewolf of Allariz of Spain. Spring-heeled Jack! Where she ventured the Devil himself followed, and with him his creations. She wandered across Europe, and though lawmen, men of the church, the Helsinks and journalists alike sought her out none managed to secure her company.

She disappeared upon a vessel destined for the Americas. The SS Rose Grande. I had thought that my chance might elude me, that she might disappear forever. Fate has smiled upon me. My man in New York happened upon her by chance. He lost her trail within the city, but her unusual attire and fiendish appearance was easily tracked. It took us a year to locate her.

Tomorrow we speak with her. May God protect us both.

- Note to self: which God does this 'Colette' worship? Ask tomorrow.

November 2nd, 1879
We arrived not long before noon with the protection of the sun above. No longer does Colette live in a castle. Her new home is large, a small manor at best. A dark purple shade, almost black. It used to belong to Old Lady McDrew. She passed away the other year. Colette moved in not long following Old Lady McDrew's demise. A natural death, it is said, but I know better. The rumors out of Europe. Poisonings. Alas, too late to prove.

I had expected a man to greet me. The help. To my surprise it was a young woman. Dressed in a fine black dress of European make, a frilly thing well suited for a woman of high class. Most of her body was concealed, but I caught glimpses of her flesh. Pale as the moon. Hair a pale blonde. Tinted spectacles concealed her eyes. A wide brimmed hat and hair swept forward concealed her ears. She could not hide herself from both of us. The Devil's own red eyes. Long pointed ears.

This is Colette!

She is rather small. Thin. Frail looking, just as the stories foretold. There is a strange tiredness in her eyes. Not the monstrous sort of creature that I had been anticipating. She towered over neither of us. While she smiled I could tell that it was fake. She observed us as closely as we observed her. My man is a veteran of the war. I myself am cool enough under tense moments. Neither of us slipped up. She invited us in. Served us tea from Europe. She was soft spoken with an accent I could not place. It was not of French origin. I have known a few men from the region of Lorraine. None of them sound like her.

She holds herself like any good noble, and yet there are signs of a failing social status. Well hidden stitches and patches within her dress. No maids nor butlers. Dusty shelves. A woman of status does not cook for herself, nor for her guests. She does not prepare tea. Her parlour is not filled with the sort of knickknacks found on an old woman's shelves. There are strange devices like the sort seen within a hospital or a place of study. Unknown books. She is intelligent. She knows multiple languages. She decorates her home with items from across Europe. Trophies of her misdeeds, perhaps?

We spoke of her life in France. Most of it lies. She may have spent a year in the northern provinces within France, but no longer. I know that she was chased from that region after a young nobleman made claim of her attempts at seduction. He had managed to see her fiendish soul. In her rage she had attacked him. He had managed to keep her at bay, had managed to escape with his life. A posse gathered into a mob after another man was found deceased. A woman who had hid her was discovered to have been a witch. Like the trials of old they had burned her.

She claims to worship our God. When pressed about the bible she became awkward. She could not speak much of it. I believe her to be a heathen.

While Colette spoke I sketched a portrait. For a monster she is quite pretty. Shy. A well placed word from my man set her face ablaze. Perhaps seduction might work against her. With this I might learn the truth.

I feel that we have spent the day sizing each other up. I have been granted an audience with her tomorrow. Tonight I stay at the local saloon. We shall indulge in the local flavors!

- Note to self: Cologne. For my man too. If one of us can get close enough then perhaps we may learn the truth. Perhaps I might try to contact the Helsink clan. If there is a bounty I may just do so. With enough I may be able to afford to publish this story myself!

November 3rd, 1879
Again we arrived around noon. She greeted us this time in red. Today she smiled a little more. Grew comfortable with our presence. My man has a knack for flirtations. If she were not a monster I might have felt pity for her, for her face retained a bright red for well over an hour. She opened up a little.

As I suspected, Colette is intelligent. A woman of science. She thirsts for knowledge. For at least two hours she spoke of theorems and scientific names for things. Much of it was beyond my own understanding. My poor friend had to excuse himself out of boredom. Perhaps I should pick up smoking. It makes for great excuse. But while he was out she questioned me about him. Her curiosity had settled upon him. Strangely enough I felt somewhat jealous. Perhaps these were the tricks of a temptress? According to the witnesses her mother had attempted the same sort of ploy.

He would understand. I spoke at length about my friend's past. It was all for the truth. We spoke at length for an hour. It worked.

She started to open up. Some of the truth appeared to slip out. She came to America in order to escape from things in Europe. She was the only remnant of her family. She understood my friend's pain, the sting of loss and the horrors of war. At least some of this was, I suspect, the truth.

A nerve was hit. We ended our interview early. She almost appeared to be sad. We were welcomed back tomorrow night for dinner.

- Note to self: Bring a silver knife. My man will bring a wooden stake. He has promised that he can keep it hidden. The old men of the tavern spoke of garlic. Supposedly the patriarch of the family loathed the plant. A rumor spoke of it burning his flesh. Just in case, I shall bring some with. It may work as a gift.

November 4th, 1879
What an incredible day!

We arrived closer to night. She greeted us again in black. The three of us sat down for dinner. She is a skilled cook. Some sort of duck dish with berries. Mashed potatoes. Peas. Garlic on our plates but not a trace of it on her own. She served us wine. It was the reddest wine that I have seen and reminded me of some of the rumors of her clan. I told her that I didn't drink, that it was a religious choice. My man told her that he didn't drink wine. She said that the wine was from France, but I have to wonder if that was the only thing special about it. Perhaps this is how she hides her blood feasting? This may be a familial tradition, if the rumors are indeed true.

Each of us spoke of our childhoods. I will not bore you with tales of my own. My man deserves his own publication. Colette lived a life of lesser nobility. Wanting for not in her very early days. A loving mother. A kind father. An older sister she occasionally quarreled with, but one which she loved dearly. Later in her younger years she became an older sister to a younger brother.

She rarely ventured outside of her home. Her pale skin is a result of a rare skin condition. Within the sunlight she burns easily. Enough sunlight sickens her. Blinds her, although I suppose the sun blinds all who gaze upon it. That said, it is a fair excuse. A good cover. But this proves who she is. What she is.

A fire at the family home saw an end to her family. Of course I already know how they really perished. It was a fine tale that she weaved, but alas meaningless.

Colette lived for a while within a nunnery. An obvious lie, given her lack of enthusiasm towards the good book.

She traveled across Europe once her family's estate was fully transferred into her name. Half truths. We know what happened in Europe. What happened in Spain. In France. In England. Prussia. Bovaria. Italy. Though she spoke of the famous sights and the beautiful views, of the great foods and wines and books, of museums and centers of study, I know better. Corpses follow her across Europe. Beasts. Experiments, perhaps?

Offhandedly I inquired about the origin of her strange blood-like drink. She must have been partially intoxicated.

From her home region of Alsace.

Alsace! Had she not claimed to have originated from Lorraine?

The two of us caught on to it immediately. It took her a moment to do the same. I could tell that it had sobered her up.

She did not react with violence. I thank the lord for that. For a moment I thought my heart might jump from my chest!

Colette was, curiously enough, wracked with guilt. Not for the crimes for which she is surely guilty, but for having deceived us. Things grew silent for some time.

She claimed to be on the run from people. People who wished her harm. I convinced her that it would be better to speak the truth. If she is innocent then the world has to know. She seemed to agree, but asked that we conclude our business for the night. Promised that tomorrow we would get the truth. The whole truth.

She offered us use of guest beds for the night. We declined.

My man is concerned. He believes that she might be trying to deceive us still, that she has no intentions of speaking the truth. I shall never demean his intelligence, nor his capabilities, but on this I believe that I know best. My hunches are rarely wrong. Tomorrow we will return for the truth!

- Note to self: Send word to the Helsinks tomorrow evening once our business has concluded. They do not need to know that I have discovered her. Not yet. It would be good to seek a reward first!

November 5th, 1879
Arrived in the morning. Could hardly sleep during the night. Worried about her. Too excited.

She wore crimson today. Offered coffee. My man tested it first. An hour later I indulged.

Her name is Alicia.

Alicia von Vulf.

We spoke at length. It is night. My man has already gone to bed. We were offered rooms here. I will compile my notes here later.

I grow tired. So much coffee, and yet so tired.

Soon the world will know the truth!

Spoiler

((Decided to try a thing! I see the post about setting up characters now though so I'll try and go do that! Alicia von Vulf in spoiler.))

[IsabellaRose]

When you add your NPC to the Miro board, click on the arrow and type your relationship to them. Something like "in love with" or "needs me to protect them" or whatever you think.

Also, post here and let us know who that person is to you, and what things you've added to your sheet.

If there's not a Distinction, Ability, or Heritage that fits what you have in mind listed, mention it here and we can custom-make one for you.

[StarlitSiren]

question; should I be adding ONE person to my character's miro, or more than one if other appropriate folks from the past?

[WickedCadrach]

2 minutes ago, StarlitSiren said:

question; should I be adding ONE person to my character's miro, or more than one if other appropriate folks from the past?

I think it's just one to start? That's what it says in the pathways step in the Rules thread

[StarlitSiren]

I read the same but wanted to confirm I hadn't missed anything! Thanks!

[StarlitSiren]

Ok, so Millie has a sister and a father in her past. I'm actually going to create a character with a negative connection in the town, if that's acceptable?

Willis Sloan is as close to an outlaw as you can get while still balancing on the right side of legality. He owns and operates a trading post in (town name), but is involved in shady dealings. Millie was forced to borrow money from Willis a few months back, and the interest is piling up. Of course, she could pay him back in a heartbeat if she were still at home, or with the help of her family, but fuck that. And as months tick by, so too does his patience tick down.

I'll post the sheet later, once I've confirmed a couple things, but for now, I'm bringing to the party:

I've added the privileged Origin from Millie's background, despite that she benefits from it little now. I've added her home and workshop 'Gearhart repairs' as a location that's overflowing with junk and half finished projects, granting a + to both machining/ repair as well as being her safe space for social interactions. I've added Tinkerer (I think only at d4?) to represent her obsession with machines and gadgets, and put everything into Power d8 (assuming everything else stays at d4?) to reflect the way that expertise puts her in some manner of control.