Menaces and Mysteries: A Fallen London RP (recruitment thread)
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I thought they had a kind of limited telepathy... but I might be wrong about that.Quintley said:
On the other hand, I've run a character with a similar problem before.
The trick is to find creative ways to make your character's body and had movements more expressive...
though I was doing that as an eyebot... so I had to rip off Valve's and Lucas's approach...
make the robot's body move around... a lot...
and make random noises that help convey emotion...
and when in doubt...
I had my eyebot draw things in the dirt with her laser.
Okay. I think I addressed all of the issues you brought up.IFS said:
Though I left the incomplete wings. Because, again, they serve no functional purpose. They're just decorative. If you really, really don't want them in, then I'll take them out.
They point, make gurgling noises, and waving their face-tentacles around. There is telepathy, but I don't think it's between the various rubbery men and to say exactly what they communicate with is a fate-locked spoiler (no clue how we're handling those) and not really relevant to a RM in London.Quintley said:
Also, good timing IFS. A sheet from me well probably pop up soon; we need more tomb-colonists.
While I find it a bit surprising that a L.B. got so much support on such a foolish matter I've got no problem with him being a former seeker of the name. Overall a good sheet, my only concern is, as I said, how many he was able to get to work for him as it seems unusual for a rat, even a persuasive one, to have the resources to employ gangs of urchins and spies. I would suggest either giving some mention of how he could afford their services or reduce their number somewhat.SamtheDeathclaw said:
Yes, they communicate via waving their tentacles and gesturing, as well as through their various noises most of which humans have trouble telling apart. This does mean that they have an interesting challenge communicating with most people, but they would be the only ones who could communicate normally with other rubbery men. They do not have telepathy.Quintley said:
I would prefer they be taken out, having them seems like it be injurious to him. As for criticisms you still have the line about the 'improvements he's made over the years' which goes back to the concern that clay/unfinished men don't/can't augment themselves in that way. One new concern is from the bio, as he can't have been brought to London over a hundred years ago given that it only fell to the Neath thirty years ago.TheDoctor455 said:
All right. Wings removed... and though the 'improvements' weren't intended to be read as augmentations... just more and more decorations that he'd added over the years... that vague phrase is gone now. Also, the expedition happened five years ago.IFS said:
Fate locked content will be handled with discretion, the creators of the game don't want it to be shared (which is why its not on the wikis) and I intend to respect that. Most of it shouldn't be relevant to this RP anyways, though if anyone has some bit that they think is I would prefer them to PM me about it rather than discuss it more publicly.deathbydeath said:
The two lines of 'Shortly after being 'made', some slavers found him and smuggled him to London' and 'Over the nearly two hundred years that he's been around' are what I'm referring to in that last criticism.TheDoctor455 said:
I actually had an explanation for that, but couldn't find a good place to stick it. I guess I'll just throw it into the Bio somewhere, but in short: He was fairly wealthy when he first started seeking the name, from his work with writers, poets, and whatnot.IFS said:
Given the way hunts for the name typically go, however, Ptolemy's now pretty close to broke, and large swaths of his contacts are no longer on speak terms with him.
So in other words, he got so much help by spending every last resource at his disposal without regard to reason or any sort of sense of restraint.
Though I likely will reduce their number, I didn't notice just how many I'd thrown in. Which is why writing sheets at 4 a.m. is a terrible idea.
Name: Does not translate into English. For convenience, goes by 'Nigel'.
Race/species: Rubbery Man
Sex: Better not to inquire. The pronoun 'It' is preferred, but Nigel doesn't take offense easily.
Appearance: Squid-creature with terrible fashion sense. About the size of an average human, with clammy skin a sickly pale grey colour. Slightly elongated head with thin swimming fins (resembles the mantle of a squid), with a cluster of small tentacles around the lower face. Large, bulbous eyes on either side of the head.
Nigel hasn't quite got the hang of human clothing. It's difficult enough to walk on dry land even without those tight cloth things around your legs. Currently, Nigel is wearing an oversized velvet blazer on top of a lady's petticoat. These are dishevelled, badly-smelling, and - in the case of the petticoat - green at the bottom from mildew. Over the jacket, Nigel wears a heavy belt carrying numerous pouches of merchandise.
Occasionally, Nigel likes to add a floral bonnet to this ensemble (but never in public, and only at the weekends).
Personality: Nigel acts in a polite and rather deferential manner to the majority of its acquaintances, although it is very nervous in large crowds. Once Nigel is more familiar with somebody (or, if it has had any wine) it becomes quite excitable, and typically offers the lucky person a nice spoon, or an interestingly-shaped rock as a token of affection.
Nigel is usually very mild-mannered, but if seriously provoked or directly attacked, it becomes incredibly vicious. Aside from these occasions it is never violent; if instructed to attack someone, for example, Nigel would act politely bewildered.
Skills: Watchful - particularly observation and deduction. Nigel has an excellent memory (well, for objects, anyway) and is very good at putting two-and-two together. The difficulty comes with trying to explain its findings to anybody else - there's only so much information that gesturing and making gurgling noises can convey.
Miscellaneous skills/attributes: Due to eye position, Nigel has difficulty looking straight ahead (but peripheral vision is very good). Also, vision is excellent in the dark (and underwater), but bright lights are painful.
Nigel is proficient in understanding English, but euphemisms and sarcasm go completely over its head.
In a fight, Nigel just goes berserk. It favours the 'Nearest Blunt Object' fighting style.
Equipment: Nigel is a trader, and carries some of its most interesting items in its pouches and pockets. These range from rare, coveted items such as amber and pieces of coral to the standard glass beads, buttons and bent cutlery that any merchant worth his, her or its salt should stock.
Biography: All Nigel will divulge about its early life is that it was very dark and very wet. The exact time of its arrival in the city is similarly unclear. What is certain, however, is that one day there was an empty dilapidated building in the old shipping district, and the next day a squid-person in a ridiculous feathered hat was swapping grey pearls for two dried beetles and a tuning fork in the basement.
Nigel has been in business for a little over four years now, and in this time has made something of a name for itself. The shop now has its own sign (painted by a friend, and reading 'sHpp negil') and an Anti-Burglary Device (a net above the door). Nigel has a reputation for being able to find unusual items, if a customer requests.
Nigel's trading is monitored by a human thug called Pritchett, a Bazaar underling, who stops by every week or so to collect a cut of the profit. Nigel doesn't really understand this arrangement (it hasn't got the hang of 'blackmail' yet) but is happy to just let the fellow take a sack of trinkets and leave without a fuss.
Another concept that Nigel hasn't picked up on yet is 'embezzlement'. Last year, Nigel had an inkling to expand into information-selling, and so hired an urchin to handle the communications side of things. By the second week the brat had nicked everything shiny and was never seen again. Nigel has now decided against employees (for the moment) and has learnt to keep an account of stock.
Every now and then, someone gets the idea that the small shop packed with merchandise would make an easy target. Nigel soon corrects them.
Motive/goal: Nigel is always on the look-out for interesting items to trade, and meeting good contacts is always a bonus. As a helpful, law-abiding citizen (of a sort) Nigel was pleasantly surprised by the Dept. of Menace Eradication's invitation, especially by the "duly compensated" part.
Race/species: Rubbery Man
Sex: Better not to inquire. The pronoun 'It' is preferred, but Nigel doesn't take offense easily.
Appearance: Squid-creature with terrible fashion sense. About the size of an average human, with clammy skin a sickly pale grey colour. Slightly elongated head with thin swimming fins (resembles the mantle of a squid), with a cluster of small tentacles around the lower face. Large, bulbous eyes on either side of the head.
Nigel hasn't quite got the hang of human clothing. It's difficult enough to walk on dry land even without those tight cloth things around your legs. Currently, Nigel is wearing an oversized velvet blazer on top of a lady's petticoat. These are dishevelled, badly-smelling, and - in the case of the petticoat - green at the bottom from mildew. Over the jacket, Nigel wears a heavy belt carrying numerous pouches of merchandise.
Occasionally, Nigel likes to add a floral bonnet to this ensemble (but never in public, and only at the weekends).
Personality: Nigel acts in a polite and rather deferential manner to the majority of its acquaintances, although it is very nervous in large crowds. Once Nigel is more familiar with somebody (or, if it has had any wine) it becomes quite excitable, and typically offers the lucky person a nice spoon, or an interestingly-shaped rock as a token of affection.
Nigel is usually very mild-mannered, but if seriously provoked or directly attacked, it becomes incredibly vicious. Aside from these occasions it is never violent; if instructed to attack someone, for example, Nigel would act politely bewildered.
Skills: Watchful - particularly observation and deduction. Nigel has an excellent memory (well, for objects, anyway) and is very good at putting two-and-two together. The difficulty comes with trying to explain its findings to anybody else - there's only so much information that gesturing and making gurgling noises can convey.
Miscellaneous skills/attributes: Due to eye position, Nigel has difficulty looking straight ahead (but peripheral vision is very good). Also, vision is excellent in the dark (and underwater), but bright lights are painful.
Nigel is proficient in understanding English, but euphemisms and sarcasm go completely over its head.
In a fight, Nigel just goes berserk. It favours the 'Nearest Blunt Object' fighting style.
Equipment: Nigel is a trader, and carries some of its most interesting items in its pouches and pockets. These range from rare, coveted items such as amber and pieces of coral to the standard glass beads, buttons and bent cutlery that any merchant worth his, her or its salt should stock.
Biography: All Nigel will divulge about its early life is that it was very dark and very wet. The exact time of its arrival in the city is similarly unclear. What is certain, however, is that one day there was an empty dilapidated building in the old shipping district, and the next day a squid-person in a ridiculous feathered hat was swapping grey pearls for two dried beetles and a tuning fork in the basement.
Nigel has been in business for a little over four years now, and in this time has made something of a name for itself. The shop now has its own sign (painted by a friend, and reading 'sHpp negil') and an Anti-Burglary Device (a net above the door). Nigel has a reputation for being able to find unusual items, if a customer requests.
Nigel's trading is monitored by a human thug called Pritchett, a Bazaar underling, who stops by every week or so to collect a cut of the profit. Nigel doesn't really understand this arrangement (it hasn't got the hang of 'blackmail' yet) but is happy to just let the fellow take a sack of trinkets and leave without a fuss.
Another concept that Nigel hasn't picked up on yet is 'embezzlement'. Last year, Nigel had an inkling to expand into information-selling, and so hired an urchin to handle the communications side of things. By the second week the brat had nicked everything shiny and was never seen again. Nigel has now decided against employees (for the moment) and has learnt to keep an account of stock.
Every now and then, someone gets the idea that the small shop packed with merchandise would make an easy target. Nigel soon corrects them.
Motive/goal: Nigel is always on the look-out for interesting items to trade, and meeting good contacts is always a bonus. As a helpful, law-abiding citizen (of a sort) Nigel was pleasantly surprised by the Dept. of Menace Eradication's invitation, especially by the "duly compensated" part.
I'm happy to make changes if there are problems with this. I didn't find too much about Rubbery Men on the wiki so I've left the background quite vague.
Looks pretty good, and don't worry about it there really isn't very much lore available regarding rubbery men. All that's really known is that they trade in deep amber and come from the Downside (the tunnels beneath even London, its rumored they have their own cities down there).Quintley said:
One note (this is not a criticism, simply a bit of lore that might affect your char) that I think might interest you regarding the trade of miscellaneous junk is that there is a group called the Relickers who make 'certifiable scraps' (basically miscellaneous junk) their stock and trade. They serve Mr Cups, who is the master of the bazaar in charge of Crockery, pottery, sculpture. The frangible and the fine. They've given up their names and each one has a rat they work with, and as part of their dealings with scraps they will examine the scraps others have to tell them their value, or trade more recognized goods for scraps. Seeing as your character is at least in part a junk trader I figured I ought to make you aware of them.
Now, I'm planning on making a sheet for this simply for fun, and I have a question: For weapons, is there any chance of submitting a big-game hunter with an Elephant Gun of some kind?
Rifles don't tend to be too common in London, or at least most parts of it, but they do exist so its certainly possible.Texas Joker 52 said:
Edit: What I mean by in London is that you don't see many rifles on the streets of London, they do appear more frequently in the wilderness outside of London though.
Name: Edward Montgomery Cutter
Race/Species: Human
Sex: Male
Race/Species: Human
Sex: Male
Edward is a large, hale and hearty man at a little over two meters tall, with a muscular build, if a little heavy-set. His skin is fair, while most of his arms, his face and his neck are rather tanned thanks to the many outdoor activities he's taken part in, while his face is strong and angular, dominated by a strong jaw, prominent nose, an extremely large, bushy brown mustache, and equally bushy eyebrows above cheerful blue eyes. His scalp is as smooth as a baby's rump and his chin and jaw are flawlessly clean-shaven, though he is otherwise quite hairy, with a carpet of chest hair that is reminiscent of a good, deep shag.
His wardrobe reflects his 'hobbies', usually consisting of a pristine white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a black outdoors vest that is usually laden with rifle rounds, heavy khaki trousers tucked into thick black boots, and a black bush hat.
His wardrobe reflects his 'hobbies', usually consisting of a pristine white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a black outdoors vest that is usually laden with rifle rounds, heavy khaki trousers tucked into thick black boots, and a black bush hat.
Edward is a man who practices what he preaches, in that a real man is a gentleman, always looks friend or adversary in the eye, is nothing if not courteous to women, and is always ready for an adventure, fight, or glass of brandy, if not always in that order. In general, he is a kind, cheerful man, usually reacting to trouble with a laugh and a large smile, seeing a problem as another challenge to be overcome with a trophy to be earned and glory to be achieved at the end of it. By no means is he a proud man, however, seeing no reason to speak of his own exploits, and instead prefers to hear the tales of others adventures.
But even with his happy demeanor, he is not one to suffer personal insults towards friends, or women, lightly, and he has a very strong sense of right and wrong. Added to this, he never turns down a fight should it come to it. Unfortunately, this attitude means that he isn't exactly the best problem-solver, since his solutions usually involve charging at the problem in question head-on until it isn't a problem anymore.
But even with his happy demeanor, he is not one to suffer personal insults towards friends, or women, lightly, and he has a very strong sense of right and wrong. Added to this, he never turns down a fight should it come to it. Unfortunately, this attitude means that he isn't exactly the best problem-solver, since his solutions usually involve charging at the problem in question head-on until it isn't a problem anymore.
Dangerous (Strength, Ferocity): Feats of strength are Edwards forte, be it Boxing or lifting heavy objects for a friend in need, and one couldn't ask for a fiercer hunter, particularly one whose ideal prey is one that can hunt him in turn. It isn't very sporting otherwise.
Persuasive (Charm): If there is one thing about his personality that is immediately clear, it's that Edward is a cheerful man, and has been told on the odd occasion that it can be a little infectious from time to time. All in all, he simply tries to live life to the fullest, cramming as much good old-fashioned thrill and adventure into it as possible, and having fun doing it.
Persuasive (Charm): If there is one thing about his personality that is immediately clear, it's that Edward is a cheerful man, and has been told on the odd occasion that it can be a little infectious from time to time. All in all, he simply tries to live life to the fullest, cramming as much good old-fashioned thrill and adventure into it as possible, and having fun doing it.
Most of Edward's gear consists of survival tools, such as a water pouch, machete and skinning knives as well as several spare shirts, but his pride and joy would have to be his large bore, break-action 'Elephant Gun', which he christened Victoria. He also usually carries a few dozen shells for the old girl, though he considers more than twenty-four to be overkill unless his quarry is something particularly dangerous.
As for the rest of his material wealth, he has accumulated a modest fortune of his own, most of which is in the form of Echoes, though there are small stashes in other denominations such as British Pounds, in case he ever decided to take a trip abroad on short notice.
As for the rest of his material wealth, he has accumulated a modest fortune of his own, most of which is in the form of Echoes, though there are small stashes in other denominations such as British Pounds, in case he ever decided to take a trip abroad on short notice.
Edward was born the scion of the Cutter family just a few years before the Fall of London, the said family having been members of England's upper class for some decades by that point. His parents, a King and Lily Cutter, were instantly taken by the child, who was variously a joy, or a terror depending on who you ended up asking. Edward was energetic and cheerful even as a toddler, making him close to a walking catastrophe at times, though his parents were immensely thankful that he began to be a little calmer right around the same time as the Fall of London.
The Cutter family was, initially, hard hit by the changes the Bazaar and it's Masters put in place, but over time managed to re-coup their standing and some portion of their wealth. During that time, Edward was put into boarding school outside of the Neath itself, with his parents hoping some semblance of what England used to be being a good influence on him.
All in all, the effects of schooling outside the Neath are... Debatable.
Boarding school only amplified some of Edwards already readily apparent personality traits, such as his personable demeanor and boisterous antics. It was also clear from the outset that, while no slouch intellectually, his strong suit rested in physical activities. This manifested mainly in Boxing during High School and University, where he became a force to be reckoned with, though he hadn't the chance to progress too far into the College Boxing Championship. Overall, his schooling was just slightly above average, and once he graduated he sought new thrills and adventure.
He found a source for those thrills a few weeks after coming come to his parents after graduation. Before his father had retired, King Cutter had dabbled only somewhat in hunting for sport, and Edward realized that hunting big game would be a perfect outlet for his energy, and would give him plenty of mementos in the form of trophies. From there, his father taught him to shoot, be it rifle or shotgun, and thanks to his natural trait of sticking to something until it worked, Edward became a rather respectable shot. It wasn't long before his first expedition to Africa where he, along with several others who shared his growing passion, bagged his first prize. He hadn't looked back since.
Almost a decade passed, along with the purchase of an estate of his own in the Neath complete with a packed Trophy Lounge, and Edward began to lament the fact that the world as it was had so few dangerous game capable of hunting the hunter that weren't already on their way to being endangered. After all, it simply wasn't right to hunt an animal, as fine a prize as they would be, if their numbers were beginning to dip too low. And after awhile, hunting the same quarry began to get rather dull. He needed to find himself a new hobby, a new passion. Something dangerous, adventurous and fun.
He would call it providence when he received a messenger on his doorstep late into the night, with a letter from the Department of Menace Eradication. When he sent the messenger home, having been compelled to at least let him have a spot of brandy for going to all the trouble, he smiled to himself, knowing that his days of boredom were going to be coming to an end.
The Cutter family was, initially, hard hit by the changes the Bazaar and it's Masters put in place, but over time managed to re-coup their standing and some portion of their wealth. During that time, Edward was put into boarding school outside of the Neath itself, with his parents hoping some semblance of what England used to be being a good influence on him.
All in all, the effects of schooling outside the Neath are... Debatable.
Boarding school only amplified some of Edwards already readily apparent personality traits, such as his personable demeanor and boisterous antics. It was also clear from the outset that, while no slouch intellectually, his strong suit rested in physical activities. This manifested mainly in Boxing during High School and University, where he became a force to be reckoned with, though he hadn't the chance to progress too far into the College Boxing Championship. Overall, his schooling was just slightly above average, and once he graduated he sought new thrills and adventure.
He found a source for those thrills a few weeks after coming come to his parents after graduation. Before his father had retired, King Cutter had dabbled only somewhat in hunting for sport, and Edward realized that hunting big game would be a perfect outlet for his energy, and would give him plenty of mementos in the form of trophies. From there, his father taught him to shoot, be it rifle or shotgun, and thanks to his natural trait of sticking to something until it worked, Edward became a rather respectable shot. It wasn't long before his first expedition to Africa where he, along with several others who shared his growing passion, bagged his first prize. He hadn't looked back since.
Almost a decade passed, along with the purchase of an estate of his own in the Neath complete with a packed Trophy Lounge, and Edward began to lament the fact that the world as it was had so few dangerous game capable of hunting the hunter that weren't already on their way to being endangered. After all, it simply wasn't right to hunt an animal, as fine a prize as they would be, if their numbers were beginning to dip too low. And after awhile, hunting the same quarry began to get rather dull. He needed to find himself a new hobby, a new passion. Something dangerous, adventurous and fun.
He would call it providence when he received a messenger on his doorstep late into the night, with a letter from the Department of Menace Eradication. When he sent the messenger home, having been compelled to at least let him have a spot of brandy for going to all the trouble, he smiled to himself, knowing that his days of boredom were going to be coming to an end.
When he received the letter from the Department of Menace Eradication, he saw it as a prime opportunity to not only do some good, but also hunt bigger game than he had the chance to before, this time sponsored by the Government. Needless to say, he couldn't pass up the chance.
Well, here he is. I hope everything's alright, including Victoria. If I need to change anything, let me know!
[EDIT 1]: I neglected to mention whatever funds he would have. Edited that into his Equipment along with several spare shirts, just in case.