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At a Price

At a Price

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A few recall the legends. Even fewer know the truth. Magic may not be a secret, but compared to that of the Visitors, it might as well be parlor tricks. Now the human world is at stake, and only a select few can head off disaster. Will they?

2,735 readers have visited At a Price since Marionette created it.

Introduction

Note: This game is dead. I only haven't closed it because I don't want the old players to be unable to reference its content. Please don't submit profiles.

At a Price




Index
1. Plot
2. Setting
3. Rules
4. Skeleton
5. Contracts
6. Credits



1. Plot

In Ursum, the capitol of the freshly industrialized Eudona, a handful of humans know how to summon powerful otherworldly creatures known as Visitors. In doing so, they may make their fondest desires into realities. However, nothing in this world (or any other, for that matter) is free. It will cost most of them dearly.

Now their actions may cost all of humanity dearly as well. A plot is brewing, and if its orchestrators have their way, souls will be stolen, barriers will be broken, and the rules will be rewritten. Never before have the Visitors been able to enter the human world at will; it has always required a contract. If the gates are thrown open and Visitors allowed entry en masse, the magically inferior humans will be helpless as lambs before lions. Will the other Summoners and Visitors find out before it’s too late? More importantly, will they fight it… or join the cause themselves?

[original plotting thread]



2. Setting

What is a Visitor?

Simply put, a Visitor is an otherworldly being that is able to enter the human world via a contract with a human. Only a bond with a human can give them physicality there. They originally hail from many other realms; some of them have command of spheres all their own. They also come in many flavors which reflect the sheer variation in worlds.

What, then, is to be gained? The connection with a human is fruitful to both parties. The Visitor can feed off its partner to bolster its own abilities. The ultimate boost is to gain dominion over a soul. Humans seldom understand the weight of their own souls, and even those that do may be tempted by all a Visitor can offer them. Not all Visitors choose this route, but many are unafraid to bargain for one. Still, prices vary. Some ask to feed off their beneficiary’s life force, energy, magic, emotions, et cetera. Others are more creative with their terms. Occasionally, if a Summoner is very lucky, the price is almost negligible. There are a handful of Visitors who are merely bored or unhappy with their otherworldly lives. A few are even driven from their homes by banishment or fear, necessitating a quick connection at any cost.

Most humans don’t know that Visitors exist. In fact, they regard the existence of worlds beyond Earth as ridiculous (except in the context of certain religions which maintain one or several spiritual realms exist, but even these lack the belief that beings can be summoned). Visitors initially communicated the secrets of summoning to a small portion of humans via dreams, and some continue to contact humans this way. Other humans have had the knowledge of how to summon passed onto them by others. In any case, its practice is highly secretive. Visitors themselves do not wish to be discovered; humans are a dangerous combination of curious and exploitative, so they tend to feel it’s in their best interests to go unnoticed. Thus, Visitors who come to Earth should have an ability that lets them go among humans unnoticed if they appear physically nonhuman. Whether it’s a human form, a glamour that causes them to appear human, invisibility, or something else depends on the Visitor.

What’s the setting?

The physical setting is a fictional world. Eudona is one of it many countries. Its capital is Ursum, and this is where the RP takes place. Technology is similar to that of the late 1800s. Culture and dress have a Victorian aesthetic, but there are differences. It’s somewhat easier for women to obtain power in Eudona, private sexuality (if kept truly private) is less demonized, and fashion is not exactly the same. There is some amount of cultural clashing within Eudona as segments of the population are seeking freer expression, whereas other segments feel this pursuit is scandalous. In the end, the society still puts a lot of emphasis on decorum, modesty, and proper behavior.

The government of Eudona is a parliament. Historically, it was a monarchy, but it dissolved peacefully about 150 years prior; several other countries had had bloody coups about that time and, sensing discontent in their people and revolution coming with the breeze, the royal family ceded control out of self-preservation. It worked; descendents of the royal family still live. In fact, they often have their hands in government, and the country’s leader, the Premier (chosen every 10 years by the members of parliament), has twice been of royal blood.

It’s important to remember that the country’s nobility was not abolished; only the monarchy had been considered enemies of the people, whereas many nobles had made it a point to take care of their constituents (at the time, they had hoped to gain enough favor to overthrow the government should revolution come). Thus, when the new government was formed, the aristocracy kept a place in it. 50 of the country’s 500 parliamentary officials are not elected but come directly from the wealthiest nobles. The rest are elected, as are all lower officials. Many of the less wealthy nobles are still well off enough to buy favor with it, and competition among nobles and other rich citizens for the remaining positions is often fierce. There is definitely palpable corruption within the government; vote buying and empty promises are rampant.

Outside Earth, many other realms exist, and these realms maintain vague spiritual connections with it, allowing Visitors to be summoned there.

How does magic work?

Though humans don’t understand the nature of magic, it is fueled by magic energy. This substance, undetectable by human methods, is what is tapped into when spells are cast. Humans have a fairly low magic threshold; they cannot hold very much of it in comparison to Visitors. Thus, most humans have only very basic skills in magic. Visitors have a much higher magic threshold. They can draw on more magic and draw it from father away. Their spells are that much more powerful.

For example, the highest level of healing magic most people can attain is the ability to ease colds and fatigue, heal small cuts and scrapes, etc. Offensive and defensive magic is enough to protect oneself or perhaps have a gentlemanly duel with a low mortality rate. Some other things humans can commonly do include basic enchantments (e.g. making a coin purse only open for its owner), magic-fueled psychokinesis of items which are not terribly heavy, and summoning small items.

Certain people have a higher aptitude for magic than others. It’s still nothing that could compare to the magic of a Visitor, but, for instance, some humans may be able to heal a broken leg or cast much more damaging offensive spells. These enhanced abilities usually come with certain drawbacks such as harm inflicted on the caster and/or severe physical exhaustion after using it. Additionally, such advanced mages are often highly coveted, which can be good and bad.

As suggested by the world “threshold”, only so much magic can be held within an object. Naturally, magic will never compress. It will always move somewhere else if an area approaches the threshold. However, it’s possible (though very difficult) to channel so much magical energy into something or someone that it would explode. This would be accomplished by directing the entire amount necessary into the thing in one short burst, giving it no time to dissipate. However, the one doing the channeling would have to have a magic threshold higher than the target, thus a human could not do so to a Visitor.

Souls themselves are a highly concentrated form of magical energy, but they cannot be tapped into by humans. Because they are so compressed, they actually take up much less “space” than normal magical energy, thus have far less of an impact on the threshold. They are also imprinted with the essence of the human whose body they have remained in. At a human’s death, the human essence would fade and the soul’s energy would naturally dissipate. However, if a Visitor has contracted a soul, s/he can consume the soul when the human dies. Additionally, they can convert the soul into a spiritual being, using the human as a sort of familiar.



3. Rules

1. This is a literate roleplay. By personal definition, that means I require good grammar and spelling. I don't expect perfection, but things should be proper overall. Additionally, type RP posts in third person, past tense (ex. She went to the store. She bought some eggs.).There is no minimum post length. I don't care if you post one paragraph or ten as long as your post does what it needs to do. I want quality over quantity.
2. You may play more than one character as long as you can handle them.
3. It should go without saying, but there is to be no godmoding (playing a perfect character who always wins, is never hurt, etc.) or controlling another's character without the player's permission.
4. Please use the skeleton below. Paste it into the Description box. You may move the Personality portion into its proper box if you prefer. You may fill out History and Equipment if you like, but it isn’t required.
5. Any OOC chat in IC areas is to be posted in brackets/parentheses/etc. to distinguish it from IC speech. Please keep your OOC to the OOC thread as much as possible.
6. The RP will mainly take place via thread, but chat sessions are welcomed as well. These chat sessions will be entirely optional and will not contain significant plot events, but may be used for character interaction, small events, filling in the thread’s time skips, etc. Chat logs may be posted in the OOC thread; I’ll index them in the first post.
7. Because of the nature of this RP, there will be pairs of Visitors and Summoners, and most characters will be part of such a pair. It would be best if players determined who goes with whom via OOC means because each contract is unique to the parties involved. If your character is unpaired, be sure to make mention of it so that others know whom they might pair up with.
8. This isn’t a rule so much as a head’s up. There will likely be a lot of OOC planning and communication in this RP, so it would be in everyone’s best interests to watch the OOC thread!
9. Romance is allowed (within the boundaries of the site rules, of course), but it's not expected. Characters of all genders and orientations are acceptable.
10. Please only post RP responses in the [Thread Play] location in order to keep everything integrated and in one spot! The other locations are just for information pages and chat locations.
11. New addition! We are kicking things off, and we have a slight imbalance already. New players are less likely to be accepted from this point on, especially those wishing to play Visitors. The exception to this is if you were present in the brainstorming thread or otherwise let me know before this point and let me know you were working on something.



4. Skeleton

You can either put all of this in Description or separate it between the fields as you see fit. Feel free to also fill in Equipment and History.

Code: Select all
[b]Age:[/b] (Character age.)
[b]Role:[/b] (Human or Visitor. If Visitor, you may wish to also state the character’s species. Most humans will be Summoners, but you can also play a non-Summoner human if you can fit them in the story.)
[b]Physical Description:[/b] (What the character looks like.)
[b]Personality:[/b] (What the character acts like. You can cut this from the application and put in the Personality box instead if you want to keep everything in the labeled fields.)
[b]Powers and Abilities:[/b] (Any special skills your character possesses.)
[b]Contract Status:[/b] (If your character has a contract, you can note that here. You can also note who the other half is. If your character lacks a contract and needs one, you could write “Seeking”; just make sure to change it later if the character gets paired up.)
[b]Profession:[/b] (What the character does for a living, if anything. Optional.)
[b]Any Other Info:[/b] (Anything else you want to include. Optional.)




5. Contracts

The first list contains contracted pairs. The latter two lists contain characters who need to be paired. Let me know if you wish for your character to be added (I'll try to automatically add those who note "Seeking" on their profiles). Please also let me know if I've got something incorrect.

Current Contracts
Amelia Roscoe and River
Jocelyne de Winter and Skógursson
Marie Tanner and Raziel
Remy Faux and Vespasian Pyrroman
Tabitha Rosen and Cauchemar

Free Summoners
None at present.

Free Visitors
Bertram Drake
Sparrow
Thane



6. Credits

- Everyone who helped brainstorm!
- kaitou-kage - stock for the RP icon
- wildwinyan-stock - stock for Eudona icon
- Photos8 - stock for [Thread Play], Silver Palace, Grand Street Market, & Romilly Park icons

Toggle Rules

The GM of this roleplay hasn't created any rules! You can do whatever you like!

Browse All » 6 Settings to roleplay in

Eudona

Eudona by Marionette

You've crossed into the fair nation of Eudona.

[Thread Play]

[Thread Play] by RolePlayGateway

This is where all RP posts should go. Treat this like a normal thread. Please do not post in other areas; they are information pages and chat locations only.

Silver Palace

Silver Palace by RolePlayGateway

This ornate building, decorated with the finest of silver, was once the home of the royal family. It's now the headquarters of Parliament, but its extravagance keeps it a palace in the minds of the people.

Grand Street Market

Grand Street Market by RolePlayGateway

A large selection of goods is available here at a wide variety of shops, stands, and peddlers' carts.

Smog Way

Smog Way by RolePlayGateway

From the crowd of brick buildings, dark clouds rise.

Romilly Park and Wood

Romilly Park and Wood by RolePlayGateway

Here is a spot of green, a relief from the pressures of modern life.

The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 7 authors

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A girl pressed herself against the faded gray of a wall. Nothing could be discerned of her figure, not through the long, plain skirt that nearly swept the ground, nor through the folds of the black hooded mantle that obscured her face. Tiny gold-colored threads were woven through it in an intricate Perinthian pattern, the likes of which could be seen on heads here and there as they retreated from the market. One slender, milk-white hand picked through a cheap cloth sack. A smattering of items rested inside: two apples, a ball of twine, a spool of thread, and a roll of cloth bandage. The twine, thread, and bandage were what she had really been after, but the apples had been too lovely to resist. They were cheap enough, and she needed a bit of comfort now, something to celebrate. There'd be one for herself and one for her companion. She glanced around, but she took care not to dislodge the hood. Knowing that she could not be lost to her partner, who was surely somewhere nearby, the girl continued on her way. It would be better not to tarry.

A cool breeze cut through the roadway and the girl's hands flew upward, catching hold of her hood. The wind came from the other side of town, and with it slithered more dregs of smoke to cloud the gas lamps' shining. The girl hurried on. Soon, though, her gaze fell on a veritable crowd. She came to a halt, blue eyes widening. In this part of town, that meant danger. The odds that she would be recognized were higher than she liked. From a little distance away, she watched. Her feet were frozen to the walk. She dared go no closer.

It dawned on her that they must be going somewhere. Following their path with her eyes, she recognized their destination as the Faux residence. The masquerade, she realized, was tonight. Her parents had made mention of it the week before. They had also mentioned that business matters would keep them from attending. A sigh escaped her lungs. She was still at risk, but at least it was something. Sidling up to a nearby tree, she tilted her head downward and rearranged the contents of her bag, desperate to look legitimately busy until the flow of people ceased.

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#, as written by Imehal
How had she ever let Skógursson talk her into this?

Normally, Jocelyne only endured the small talk and drudgery of exquisite balls and celebration at her husband’s request as her personality did not render her good company at places where she encouraged to gossip and dance all night. There were more productive uses for her time, surely? Nevertheless, her Visitor - and dare she say friend - had been remarkably insistent upon attending, for there hadn't been an occasion of its like since he had arrived on this plane and her initial refusal had been met with disappointment that might’ve wrenched even the coldest of hearts.

So, here she was, dressed in her second best gown of shimmering dark jade silk that was decorated daintily with silver embroidery and silvery taffeta at the end of her sleeves and neckline, creating a more modest coverage than most women attending. Her hair was worn down, in the custom that she felt best befitted her current status in the company of a gentleman who was not her husband, swept back and held delicately in place by a beautiful silver butterfly clip.

Her left hand held to her face the sturdy deep green stick that supported the mask that was the customary adornment for the masquerade. Its ceramic surface was coloured in a bright green hue and dusted elegantly with silver powder, giving it a fairy-like quality, covering her eyes and nose fully, though no doubt a great many people would recognise her from her voice and not so perfect dancing.

Her lips were curved up in a smile directed towards her companion, who was wearing his glamour currently – Jocelyne’s only term for them attending the masquerade. His young features looked aglow with excitement, which served to light up her eyes with temporary merriment. Despite the rather dire circumstances that surrounded their Contract, she was quite fond of her bizarre friend, though it had taken a great deal of time for her to get used to a number of his unique qualities.

However, she couldn’t imagine life without Skógursson’s abundant thirst for knowledge and near constant smiles and attempts to cheer her. At this thought, she squeezed his left arm lightly with her right hand that rested upon it, giving him a look of amusement as she inclined her head towards the Faux residence. They had decided to walk there as it wasn’t at all far from the De Winter home and of course, it was an opportunity for Jocelyne to show him Ursum by night properly.

At last they were within a few metres of the gates of their destination and she discreetly whispered quite matter of factly to her Visitor, “I do hope you enjoy yourself, dear friend, otherwise this will be a much wasted evening." The slight smile on her pale lips told a different story, however.

Oh, she did hope he remembered the arrangement they had decided when the Contract had been completed. As she was born from low-born nobility, it was not difficult to pass off his presence in her household as that of a distant scholarly cousin, sent by his parents to be taken under the wing of his slightly elder cousin, in hopes of finding a favourable match for him.

Of course, this was nonsense and Jocelyne found herself oft frustrated with the lying and it had been hard enough convincing her husband’s family of this tale, but the lady had flat refused to let Skógursson hide unseen in the shadows of her world, especially when he seemed so eager to learn all about it!

They halted just outside the gates of the residence, taking their allotted place at the back of the small queue to get inside the Faux residence. Carefully, she lowered her hand off Skógursson’s arm to retrieve the small but beautiful invitation card from within her little purse that had been designed for such a task.

“I’ll let you hand it in,” she offered, handing the little card to her companion with care.

She owed this night to him, particularly after all the effort he had been putting in to help her brother recover recently.

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"It's time."

Hands tucked behind his back, a motionless man by the name of Remy stood. He peered through the windows of his family’s manor. Tonight was the night he had so appropriately planned. A masquerade. It was very fitting in his opinion. It sort of represented him and his family, how they for years had been wearing a mask of content in public, but in private was where their true face was shown. But, in a stroke of genius, he had planned to reveal others' facades.

"Now. Where is Vespasian?"

They had agreed to meet in the study to discuss any last minute thoughts and such. He did say he was coming, right? This party was half of his idea as well. Turning on his heels, he strolled towards the couch. On it laid an all white, expressionless mask; it was the one he would be wearing tonight. Though the masquerade party was his idea, he wasn't too fond of the bright colors associated with it. Instead a black suit graced his body. It contained a nice tail coat, under it laid a red vest with a black puff tie and a white scarf hung around his neck. All of it was tailored to fit his body and made for tonight's occasion.

Returning to the mask, he grabbed it and placed it on his face. "Alas, my outfit is complete, yes?" The vibrations from the music could be felt through the floor of Remy's study - just about time to my appearance.

*Knock, Knock.*

The loud thumps of someone's fist against his door, protruded into his thoughts. But, it was greatly accepted since he assumed it was his Visitor.

"Come in. It’s about time you showed-" Remy paused mid sentence as his eyes fell upon an unexpected sight. "You... Silas, what is it?!" Remy barked.

Whom he thought to be the burning duke, was none other than Silas; his family's servant. He was a bit annoyed and was growing impatient. Though he shouldn't have taken his anger out on the old man.

"Sorry to disturb you Master Rembrandt, but your guests are starting to arrive." The feeble old man shook as he spoke, no doubt he was afraid of Remy's wrath. "Excuse me for my outburst, just a little anxious about the party is all. But, thanks Silas, you may leave."

The old man nodded and bowed before turning to leave. After the door was shut, Remy returned to his thoughts. He slipped his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a gold pocket watch. A quarter to eight. I will give him twenty more minutes...

The setting changes from [Thread Play] to Eudona

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#, as written by Marinus
((Now moved to Thread Play))

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((I apologize for any confusion, Marinus, but all posts are to be made in the [Thread Play] area, as explained there. I should add a note to each separate location, my fault. D: At any rate, you can leave this post as is or edit and repost it in [Thread Play], whichever you prefer. Just continue there instead of here.

Edit: There we go. Notes added.))

The setting changes from Eudona to [Thread Play]

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#, as written by Marinus
[Ursum, Faux Residence, Family Wing]

The small room, overlooking the long driveway up to the residence, was dim and cool, a banked fire smouldering slowly in the grate, casting out bloodred light that pooled on the fine furnishings and splintered into crimson shards in the ranks of decanters on an ornate sideboard.

Suddenly, the fire blazed up, roaring to full and cheerful life, a rope of it snaking out and growing larger and larger, becoming a pillar of incandescence in the centre of the chamber, filling it with near-blinding light and the bellow of the flames.

Slowly, they condensed and collapsed down, their radiance dying as they did so, until Vespasian’s human form stood there, shaking out his cuffs.
A formal tailcoat of such a dark, rich red as to be almost black glowed seductively, covering a red-and-gold waistcoat patterned like leaping flames – enchanted to look like they flickered and moved - and a cloth-of-gold cravat over a snowy expanse of immaculate dress shirt.

Black opals that glowed with all the colours of fire gleamed as cufflinks, matching the heavy ring on his finger. Much of his pale, handsome (though slightly disconcerting) face was covered by an elaborate, feathered mask, a large ruby glowing at its apex, and over the rest of his ensemble he threw a cloak of fire-feathers, again enchanted to shimmer and flicker like a real blaze. His ashy hair streamed like smoke down his back, only the most minimal clips of rose-gold holding it in check.

Vespasian smiled. He did so love a party. He moved, gracefully and quickly, as a wildfire might across tinder grasslands, to the open window, looking down on the first guests arriving, a long snake of carriages winding out of the gates and into the city. He had to meet with Remy soon, it was true, but he permitted himself a few moments to gaze out at the city and the river of humanity streaming towards the elegant Faux residence.

His eyebrows suddenly came together, with an almost-audible snap, and for a second his eyes ignited behind the mask. In a whirl of feathers he turned and strode out of the room, heading through the polished corridors for his current master’s study.

A brisk, impatient knock on the polished mahogany; Vespasian strode through them breezily without a summons. “Ah, sir Faux. I was hoping to find you here." His grin widened at his master. "There will undoubtedly be an extra dimension of fun to be had tonight; one of our guests has brought another Visitor to us. You should be honoured the masquerade has caught such attention."

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Amelia watched the tiny bubbles in the flute of champagne bead on the glass then rise swiftly to the surface, expiring at the meniscus in a flash.

She'd been to many balls but only a few masquerades. There was a fashion for them these days and they were becoming more popular. Amelia was glad of this; she liked to watch the masked people around her, trying to guess their personalities from their choice of disguise. But more than that, it meant that she and her family were more difficult to identify; there were fewer simpering would-be business associates trying to garner favour from her father and less of the gossiping attention from her mother's unbearably snobbish friends.

This evening, Amelia's own features were partially obscured by a translucent mask of dove grey lace which lay softly on her creamy skin. She might even have passed for pretty, she thought, with her plainness blurred by the ornate lace. Her dress, of course, must have been one of the finest and most expensive in the room. Her mother would have hardly allowed otherwise. Grey chiffon silk, beaded with grey and lilac glass beads overlaid an under-dress in pale coral pink. A long string of pearls hung down over the angle of her collar bones and the modest curve of her breasts.

"Amelia! I do apologise, she has an unfortunate tendency to daydream..."

The sound of her mother's voice snapped her out of her reverie and she raised her gaze. A large, matronly woman wearing a huge powdered wig in the style of the last century (no doubt she fancied herself to be dressed as some ancestor or historical figure Amelia had never heard of) and a flamboyant golden mask was looking at her expectantly.

Her mother frowned, her arched eyebrows dipping below the border of her black mask.

"This is Lady Amberley. Sir Richard's cousin, of course," she said sharply.

Amelia obediently took the woman's hand, smiled at all the usual compliments and gave a few of her own. Once these niceties were over, she knew her mother would draw her friend into their own conversation in which Amelia needed not play a part. She turned her gaze back to the parquet dance floor which was filling up rapidly. A string quartet were adjusting sheet music on silver stands at the head of the room.

"I hope Mr Rembrant makes an appearance soon..." Lady Amberley was saying, in between thirsty sips of her champagne. "I love to see the young people dancing; it reminds me of before I was married to Lord Amberley. I only tell you this because it is the truth and I am a truthful sort of person, but many a man would beg me for first dance..."

"Really?" said Amelia's mother sceptically.

"Oh yes, indeed! What of your daughter, I wonder who will ask her?"

"Baron Becker; no doubt he will ask her as soon as he arrives. They were betrothed, as you must know."

"Of course... And such a match- see she looks for him now- she will suit him perfectly, I am sure," said Lady Amberley, casting a piggy eye to Amelia.

"Amelia would suit anyone," said her mother, also turning her hard brown eyes on her daughter.

Amelia pretended not to hear their exchange and continued to survey the crowd. A few days ago, being forced to listen to that would have sent a sickening dread through into the pit of her stomach, wiped her mind blank with despair. But now... She was filled only with a fluttering nervousness and a cautious elation at the thought of her future. For it was not her fiancé who she looked for, but River. Her Visitor and the one who had promised to help her escape her betrothal and vanish into the depths of the city. He was here tonight and they could begin to put their plan into action.

The setting changes from [Thread Play] to Eudona

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#, as written by Monroe

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#, as written by Monroe
From the windows they were watching.

The privileged upper class looked down through the glass to the streets below, watching the middle class walk by, whose eyes were fixed on the glowing mansion, their faces turned to watch the harlequin ball gowns and other-worldly masks. “La petite bourgeoisie,” the women at the window simpered, turning away from the merchants and farmers below, champagne flutes glimmering in their gloved hands.

This night was nothing more than an exercise in superiority. Wealth and standing was showcased in the luxuriousness of the gowns the women wore, and men stood in small groups discussing business, subtly implying their own success. The masquerade was beautiful and festive, but there was a darker undercurrent that the perceptive could sense. The air was charged with a sort of expectation, and the dancers at the center of the room, neatly lined up, were more giddy than usual.

In a corner of the hall, a young woman was amusing her small party with a few magic tricks she had learned. She pulled a red rose from a vase hanging on the wall and twirled it between her fingers, careful of the thorns. A look of concentration passed over her pale, freckled face, and the rose changed from red to violet for a moment, then changed back. The young men and women politely clapped, impressed with her little trick, smiles on their masked faces. One man stepped forward, extending his hand for the rose, and the freckled young woman held it to him, trying to keep back a grin. She doubted he could outdo her own trick.

The rose gently floated above his outstretched palm, as if suspended by a string. Slowly the petals began to fall, disappearing before they hit the ground. The flower became barren, and the young women frowned in dismay. What a terrible party trick, they were thinking. Then, after a pause, the petals began to re-grown; pure white petals that started out as a tight bud and then bloomed open. Impressed, the small semi-circle of young men and women clapped, their gloves dulling the sound. The masked man smiled and handed the white rose to the freckled woman, who took it, blushing.

Looping her arm through his, she gently led him away, looking up at him with a curious frown. “Take your mask off- I can’t tell who you are,” she said, lips pursed. He laughed, though it didn’t sound genuine.

“I believe that’s the point of a masquerade.”

“Are you here with someone?”

“Yes.”

“Who?” she questioned adamantly, no longer amused with his behavior. The man looked around the crowded room, looking above the other people’s heads, trying to pick her out of the crowd. He spotted her and looked back down at the woman on his arm.

“Miss Roscoe.”

Amelia Roscoe?”

He nodded. “That’s the one. You know, rather plain, easily pushed around?”

Shocked, the freckled woman let go of his arm and hurried away, her expensive ball gown swishing behind her, her expensive shoes making little clicks on the marble floor. He turned on his heel and cut through the crowd, silently coming to stand behind his summoner. He leaned over, whispering in her ear. "I've never seen you look more beautiful, Amelia. That mask does wonders."

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In between scrutinizing his coat lapels, admiring the gathered locals, and having the most engrossing chats with crows—they were always so talkative, those crows—Skógursson had a rather difficult time with keeping his hand from straying to his head. No matter how in sync he had become with his visage, his native quirks never failed to taunt him, lingering in the dark roots of his human hair and pronouncing his not-so-human gait. O, Yggdrasil, came his prayer from yesterday, directed to the mighty tree that was so prominent in his home, please make me a good dancer.

He couldn’t have been more amiable, at least on a usual basis. Even in this guise, he remained taller than nearly every attendee—that worked wonders for surveying the location, yes, but he was a guest, not a lighthouse. And the ball itself! Great gods, how many times had his two left feet nearly ruined Miss Jocelyne’s ability to walk in preparation for this night? So used to the vigorous, tribal ceremonies that roared throughout his dwelling, he had tapped into his elegant side only to find that it he’d forgotten it alongside his common sense. Still, he chuckled, and his smile continued to broaden the as he felt the light squeeze on his arm. A night had rarely been so perfect. The Faux residence, with all its grandeur, had certainly awed him to no end, but it was not his main focus for the evening.

He had used all known adjectives to describe her beauty for this evening, but even those words seemed to be lacking. She was an angel—no, no, no, that wouldn’t do; angels, as captivating as they could be in person, were far too cliché (Cliché? That was the word?) to describe someone so dear. When she spoke, he stooped slightly to match her height, then covered his mouth with his palm to stifle a rather dainty giggle. Of course he would enjoy himself! Well, they would—the experience simply wouldn’t be the same without her… or even possible, for that matter, but never mind that. After the great war of cajoling, pleading, and threatening to sob before her, all for the sake of being present here, it seemed he had no option other than to make the best of the experience. And with Jocelyne by his side, he planned to do just that.

“Not to worry, ma’am,” he replied in his curious accent, his diction less faltering than it had once been. “Elation! It is good fortune for an evening to provide such elation.” Nodding at the words, he found that he was satisfied with their awkward structure, and he looked about proudly as they halted before the gate. With a succinct bow, he accepted the invitation from his Summoner, holding it closely as if guarding a treasure. “Takk…” was his traditional way of saying his thanks.

The queue moved along at a steady clip as card after card was acquired by the doorman. Skógursson observed the jovial pairings that stepped inside, the grace of their movements, how natural they appeared. His free hand grazed over his mask once again, fingers tracing absentmindedly over the navy blue ceramic. Finding little of the façades to his liking, he had opted to modify it his own with a personal touch: It now resembled the headdress of his true form, the feathers sprouting outward like tree branches. Did it border on gaudy? Most likely, and seeing the others’ more conservative choices, he hesitated to show the invitation at the concierge’s puzzled stare. It was the same set of unique habits that had prompted him, a sheep in man’s clothing, to swivel about his head while waiting in line, to sniff occasionally at the air, to detect the scents of smog and apples and exuberant perfume and—and fire, and to sense things that might have been out of place.

Although the doorman now wore his most polite smile, and although he stepped aside to let them through, Skógi wavered at the entrance. Turning to his close friend, he twiddled his thumbs, feeling an odd mixture of gaiety and shame. “I’m sorry to inform you, Miss Jocelyne,” he said, “but I’m scared. Elated still, of course! Yet… I sense something in there. Something grim.”

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As a hand collided with the wood of the study door, the resulting sound alerted Remy. His hand slipped into his coat pocket, pulling out the familiar gold time piece. A quick glance answered his question-Eight O'clock, perfect timing. Without permission, the unmistakable frame of Vespasian quickly filled the void in the doorway. The joy he was feeling seemed too radiant off of him and must have been contagious, since it caused a chesire like grin to grow on Remy.

"Very true and indeed I am. But, the search for this being will not be an easy one. They like you will be in their guise, but thankfully I have already found a solution to this problem. A simple scare tactic of mine should flush out any who are magically adept." The smile was now gone as Rembrandt pondered over his plan once more.

It was, but one of many steps to reclaim what once belonged to his family: sovereignty over Eudona. He had thrown this very large affair as a way to gather all of Eudona's high standing members of society. His original plan had been to kill everyone in one grand flame, but after one LONG debate, he was forced to take a more subtle approach. It had been made apparent to him that he was not the first to have a powerful visitor and although they weren't sure, there was a possibility that someone had equal or greater strength to his own. So the plan now, was to find those people and make them an enemy or ally.

"Alas, it is time for us to make our grand entrance, my good friend."

Like the flames in the fireplace, he rose up from the chair in which he sat. Once more he donned the expressionless white mask and moved towards the door. "So how do I look? Like royalty, yes?" His hands moved across the fabric of his suit, freeing it of any lent. Then with a simple gesture of his hand, the door before him swung open.

"Let’s go, we can't keep our guests waiting forever, now can we?"

Head held high, back straight, chest out, and hands neatly tucked behind him, Remy walked with a proud gait. It was now time for him to be the chameleon he was and change his colors. He was now a very prominent member of society, who had just thrown what would be one of Eudona's biggest gatherings this year. It required him to be very social, friendly person out to have fun as well shake a few hands and talk politics. All of which would be a second nature to him. Stopping at the top of the steps, he surveyed the party below.

"Surely this is a night to remember. For this is the beginning of what will be the end of the parliament!"

Rembrandt spoke with great excitement, but still only loud enough for a person within a hand's grasp to hear. If it were not for the mask that veiled his face, you would see his huge eyes and wide grin. Only one thought ran through his mind as he traversed down the steps.

Let the party begin.

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#, as written by Marinus
"Like royalty," Vespasian agreed easily, ordering his feathered cloak with one hand. "Scheming, plotting royalty aiming to burn down the Parliament." He paused, with a wicked grin. "Of course, they don't know that. All they'll see is that dem fine chap, Rembrandt Faux. And his foreign friend, of course." He frowned.

"'Tis a pity we can't go with your original plan. Some of them'd go up like Iban Candles, all the fat on them." An elegant shrug. "But if I cannot have my inferno - and we are agreed I cannot - then a night of wine, women and song, of every excess under the sun will serve as compensation." Vespasian's eyes were sparkling behind his mask.

"Such a liberating thing, a masquerade. People do and say things they'd never dare unmasked. Is it not wonderful?" he demanded rhetorically, in a whirl of crimson silk, and then followed his master down to the grand staircase that led out onto the masquerade ball itself, making its fantastical way across the acres of polished marble.

As they appeared at the head of the stairs, a great-voiced herald booming their names to the assembled, Vespasian's gaze raked the crowd even as his power tangled with the millon candles, twisting their flames to a greater and more golden radiance, striking brilliant highlights from the myriad golden details of his costume and softening the unrelieved white mask of his master's.

The details were everything; the two of them, limned in blazing firelight at the head of the stairs - a jewel-bright phoenix of rebirth and the suave, innocent royal prince - was a powerful image to imprint on people's minds.

Remy may have held the head of the stairs for effect; Vespasian used the few seconds to gaze over the sea of masques, sifting the plethora for the Visitor he'd sensed, before plunging into the sea of brilliant fabrics.

Arch, braying young men and giggling, simpering debutantes parted before his crimson presence, none of them quite sure why, closing up just as quickly behind him. Vespasian could sense the darker undertones of the masquerade better than most, the subtle games of one-upmanship played by sober businessmen, armoured in their well-cut suits and fat wallets on the mezzanines, the silent swordfights for status conducted with flickers of eyes and the crystal sceptre of a champagne flute of the ladies clustered genteelly at the windows - the better to see and be seen.

Tonight, though, those would be left for Remy. The Burning Duke was an unknown, a risk. While the dancers of the main floor - the younger wealthy, or the heirs to the old - would take him at face value, or slightly more, the cautious mezzanine groups would try to find out just who he was.

Better to be established in the beating heart of the masquerade than fencing on the periphery.

In other words, Vespasian would have his fun, oh, yes indeed.

Through the whirling crowds he moved, a blazing jewel, until he came upon a towering man - standing easily head-and-shoulders above the rest - and his escort - or perhaps it was the other way round, he allowed, his eyes narrowing slightly behind his mask.

Vespasian dipped a shallow bow as the orchestra began the prelude to a well-known dancing measure. "Might I have the pleasure of the dance, my lord?" His gaze flickered over to Jocelyne. "Save a dance, my lady?"

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Distracted by observing the occupants of the rapidly-filling ballroom, Amelia did not hear River approach. She jumped as she felt his breath in her ear. Behind them, Eleanor Roscoe watched her daughter with a frown.

Amelia often received compliments, at least whilst out in society, but she was no fool; she knew most were throwaway or insincere, extracted from a ready-made arsenal every socialite worth their salt brought out at required occasions. Of course, she had hardly expected flattery or niceties from River. Although she had not know him long, she recognised that River and... nice didn't go together. Thus, his thinly-veiled insult stung with an odd freshness, like alcohol on a cut.

"Thank you," she said, somewhere between sarcasm and sincerity, then looked down at her hands. After all, she admitted to herself, hadn't she been thinking something akin to what he had voiced out loud just moments before? "Perhaps we should-"

"Amelia, who is this?" said her mother, cutting through the conversation of Lady Amberley to look, hawk-like at River. Amelia knew what she must be thinking; who is this man, do I know him, should I know him, why is he talking to her? Her mother had little enough opinion of her daughter's worth and kept tight enough reign over her life to be suspicious when an unknown 'noble' approached her in such a... way.

She didn't trust herself to come up with a plausible explanation so quickly so she concentrated, the her nails clenching into her palms with effort.

"Nothing, mother," she said and when she spoke, her voice was softer than usual and somehow more melodic. She didn't often use her magic so obviously in such a public situation but there was no other choice; she could not stumble at the first hurdle and expose River before she even had a chance to escape.

Her mother's stony brown eyes glazed over and she turned back to Lady Amberley, listening with strange calmness as the other woman launched back into her facile conversation.

"Quickly, before it wears off," said Amelia quietly, glancing about them nervously to see if anyone nearby had noticed. The skin under her lace mask was flushed and there were crescent-shaped dents in her palm where her nails had dug into the skin.

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#, as written by Imehal

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#, as written by Imehal
There had been a fleeting moment where Jocelyne had been impressed by Skógursson’s reply, because they had been practising often to get his speech less distinct, as it seemed that not even a strong glamour could mask the fact that her friend was most certainly not from this region at all; or even from this country for that matter. Her attempts to cull his use of his world’s native language had ended in half-hearted failure because the young lady thought that it was wrong to try and change him. After all, everyone believed the fabricated tale, even if they were not fond of her Visitor, but those admissions of dislike had only served to shorten the list of people that Jocelyne would see of her own volition.

Similarly, as the other guests behind and in front of them pointed and whispered no doubt rude comments about Skógursson’s peculiar behaviour, the young woman paid them no heed, sharply challenging anyone who dared to look at her companion with her eyes. Odd he maybe, she reasoned in her mind, but I’ll be damned if anyone calls him that in front of me.

Normally, the intrepid Visitor cared not for the opinions of others so Jocelyne was quite puzzled when he hesitated at the entrance, looking over at her with a rather curious blend of excitement and something that she did not see often on his face, which when combined with his quiet speech made her just as uneasy as he. The exuberant young creature was hardly ever unnerved, almost as unshakeable as she.

Resolutely, the young lady squeezed once more on her friend’s arm, giving the doorman an apologetic smile as she coaxed her friend just inside the entrance to the hall, shaking her head at his use of her name – there wasn’t much use wearing a mask if he was going to do that now, was there?

The splendour of the guests’ clothing and the hall were magnificent; it was clear that the majority had put a great deal of effort into this evening. Ordinarily Jocelyne would have at least given them the discerning look of an appreciative guest but this was not an ordinary moment, the lady immediately diverting her full attention upon her friend, now frowning openly at his discomfort.

“You’ve been looking forward to this masquerade for over twenty days Skógi,” she reminded him in an incredulous voice, but her eyes were hesitant, looking at the negative emotions portrayed in his hand gestures and face with concern. “But you are rarely so unnerved, so we can leave if you wish to. After all, there will be other parties and I would be a poor friend indeed if I tried to force you to stay as you are.”

The herald call interrupted their conversation briefly, manners dictating that they both observed the introduction obediently, though Jocelyne did not release Skógursson, hopefully reassuring him with her mere presence. Vespasian’s efforts were not lost upon the lady; the impressive figures of Rembrandt Faux and his constant foreign companion were etched into her mind, though she couldn’t comprehend the significance of this. A more suspicious mind might have thought that these two were the source of her friend’s discomfort, but as it was, Jocelyne thought no such things, merely outwardly impressed by the spectacle, keeping her personal feelings just that; private.

With little difficulty, she turned bodily to face her Visitor, missing the path that the co-host seemed to take towards them, giving Skógursson a rare pleasant smile, though they seemed to be in abundance this evening, but she barely had time to get a word in edge-ways, noting the easily parting crowds out of the corner of her eye, a blaze of magically charmed flamboyance and pride interrupting them. Someone less schooled or younger might have made a direct comment about the clothing that the lord wore but Jocelyne was both well-schooled and of an age to know when to be silent.

Etiquette came naturally to Jocelyne, releasing her friend with a little reluctance before dipping low before Vespasian in an elegant curtsey, his words striking unfamiliar nervousness into her normally stoic stance. It took effort, but she kept a careful rein upon her features as she rose. “Of course, my lord,” she acquiesced politely, saying nothing of her dancing ability or her reluctance to even participate – neither was appropriate, as it was beyond rude to refuse the host of a ball, even if Skógursson and she ended up leaving before the request was fulfilled.

Subtly, Jocelyne turned her attention to her companion to hear his response to the fiery lord’s words, though her pale blue eyes never left Vespasian, set demurely away from eye contact. She was quite ready to make their excuses to eject her friend from the interaction should the need arise, though they had rehearsed this dance many a time; it was a popular one and one that Skógi greatly enjoyed watching and attempting to participate in.

An urge came upon her to nurse her feet, which were still a little sore from their practising but the lady resisted that urge firmly, instead carefully detaching the green stick from the side of her mask as deft hands lifted the green ribbon around the back of her head. Both of her hands would need to be free if she was to participate in dancing this evening.

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Vespasian; what a devil…

A smirk broke across Remy’s face as he watched the flames enlarge. To everyone below it would seem like magic and perfect timing were behind this elegant entrance. And they were right. The burning duke himself had added in his own personal touches as they made their descent into the ocean of guests. He could only imagine how magnificent they looked, it would be the image forever burned into their memories when they reminisced about tonight.

Remy melodically maneuvered through the crowd. It was as if he was alone, dancing, just him and the music. Though his path was soon impeded by a nice young lady. He started to speak, his words somewhere along the lines of ‘please move’ or ‘excuse me miss’, but he was at a party and despite his hidden agenda, he had to maintain an image. So he gave her a reluctant bow, and stuck his hand out, waiting for her to place hers in it.

There was a slight giggle from her; no doubt she was a bit embarrassed to be asked to dance by a man of such prestige. But, as her friends egged her on, she gave a dainty bow and placed her hand in his palm. He rose with delight of which could even be seen within his eyes. His hand was moved to the appropriate place, while his other held hers high, signaling the way they would begin their movements.

Together they moved in circles through the crowd. It didn’t take long for the girl’s amusement to show. She was having the time of her life; the music seemed to match their movements instead of vice versa, she was in the graces of the host of the party, and all eyes were on the pair. Remy stared deeply into her eyes, putting her into a trance. This was quite easy.

He had no suspicion that she was a visitor in guise or that she held the slightest bit of magical ability, but it never hurt to be sure. As she easily fell into the trance, it was dead giveaway that she was not what he was looking for.

Well, that should do.

Relinquishing his effect on the girl, he ended the dance, with a spin and a dip. Simultaneously, the two bowed, applause erupting as they did so. He moved away from her without a follow up conversation or a fare thee well.

Always leave ‘em wanting more, I say.

Casually fleeing the scene, Remy was quite proud of his work. For even though all eyes were on him, none would have the slightest clue as to what he had done. It would take one with an adept eye to notice the life leave her mind and eyes; despite the fact she was constantly smiling. Still those who did notice would just shrug the incident off, for what would a man like Rembrandt Faux need to put a lady under a trance.

A devilish grin sat underneath the expressionless mask. His eyes wondered the crowd as he stalked the marble floors, in search of his next prey. Vespasian my friend, what are you up to now? As his eyes took grasp of his visitor/partner in crime, he had to wonder what his motives were. Were these the ones of which he spoke about earlier? What an odd paring they are…

A nice woman of elegance and a strange giant of a man. Remy was considered to be a little freakishly tall too, but compared to this fellow, he was minuscule. But, all this questioning and staring had caused him to lose sight of his footing and resulted in him bumping into a couple.

“Oh. So very sorry miss, please excuse my clumsiness.”

Regaining his balance as well helping the lady recover hers, he noticed just who it was he had stumbled into. Amelia Roscoe. He had heard her name tossed between folks before, but never really met her or talked to her. Remy took this chance to do what he had just done before, but briefer. When their eyes met, he would attempt to gain control over her mind, nothing serious, just enough to see if he could get a reaction out of her.

The attack would simply startle her, comparable to a moment of déjà vu or the mysterious feeling of a hand on your shoulder late at night. If she indeed possessed magical talents, then she would notice, if not she’d continue as if he did nothing. Either way, he would continue on his way to keep up his façade.

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#, as written by Monroe
A woman approached that he had often seen through Amelia’s dreams, but never in person. There was a tightness to her face, particularly her mouth, as she looked at him, as if she had just sucked on a lemon. Her eyes quickly sized him up, taking in the material of his jacket and the weight of his pocket watch, trying to determine whether or not he was of her level or not. One eyebrow quirked above his mask as he imagined the reaction he would get from her in his usual motley garb.

River’s mouth set into a hard line, already anticipating a debacle with Amelia’s mother. However, his summoner seemed to take a tiny step forward, looking her mother in the eye. A moment passed, and confusion seemed to cloud Lady Amberly’s eyes, then she wondered away, no longer interested in Amelia or her guest. The bronze skinned man looked down at his companion quizzically, taking in her flushed cheeks, and recognition hit him.

“Well done, Amelia. A bit lackluster, and you seem to have exerted yourself, but not bad for a human, much less a woman.”

There was a look of consternation- or was it panic?- on her face. Some sort of emotion played across her features that River couldn’t quite place, but she was right- it would be wise for them to leave her mother’s line of sight before that bit of magic wore off. “I hope you’re not expecting me to dance with you,” he scoffed irritably. “I didn’t come here to pretend to be your suitor, after all.”

Too focused on his summoner to notice the man walking blindly toward them, Amelia and River were abruptly run into by another man. River staggered and regained his balance, and the other man helped Amelia regain himself. River resisted the urge to roll his eyes behind his long-beaked mask. Pleasantries, he thought with a scowl. Humans really could be dull sometimes. He turned to look at what the man had been so preoccupied with and his eyes landed on an oddly matched couple in the middle of the room, dancing with mediocrity. The woman, he thought, seemed uncomfortable in her very own skin, much less her expensive gown, and she danced with a bit of a limp, as if her shoes were too tight for her feet. There was something familiar about the way she moved though, he thought, a memory trying to surface. The memory resisted and he shook his head, turning back to Amelia and the other man.

“Watch where you’re going, eh?” said River, brushing a bit of imaginary lint from his jacket. “We’re at a ball, not war.”

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"Don't worry, I don't think you're in any danger of that," said Amelia softly.

It was true. Most people in this room would know of her engagement to Baron Becker and even before that, none of them, especially not the women, would have believed for a moment that she would have a man like River vying to be a suitor. Why would a someone so obviously worldly, so razor-sharp be remotely interested in a naive, unpretty thing like her? She had none of the polite viciousness that enabled many of the other young society women to elbow their way past their rivals into a man's affections. Besides, the only thing that would attract them was her money. It would be clear to everyone within twenty feet of them that River was no more a suitor of hers than he was a priest. No, they'd be wondering why he was with her in the first place.

It was a shame about the dancing, though. Amelia did not acknowledge she was good at many things; a small talent for sketching, a passable sewer, but she knew she could dance. It took little effort; her boyish frame became graceful on the dance-floor. It was perhaps the only thing that her mother was proud of her for.

Amelia shot a envious glance over at the waltzing dancers. But it was cut short by jolt of another person walking into them. She gasped and was about to apologise when she looked up and met the eyes of the man helping her regain her balance.

A sliver of magic touched her; figuratively-speaking it was no heavier than the brush of fingertips across a cheek or the settling of a leaf but Amelia had never experienced anything like it before. She knew of the existence of... other people like her, but she had never encountered anyone explicit in their abilities (aside from River, of course) before.

That accounted for some of the shock that involuntarily sprang to her features. But what was even more surprising than encountering another magic-user was his identity; Rembrandt Vaux, host and heir to a family even older and more prestigious than her own.

As he carried on across the ballroom, she watched his back disappear into the crowd then turned to River, shaking just a little.

"Did you feel that?" she said, in a low voice as they neared the other side of the room. She took a glass of champagne from a proffered tray to prevent her hands from trembling. "That man- Mr Vaux... He can use magic, I'm sure of it! I've never met anyone else like me before..."

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Eudona

Eudona by Marionette

You've crossed into the fair nation of Eudona.

[Thread Play]

[Thread Play] by RolePlayGateway

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Silver Palace

Silver Palace by RolePlayGateway

This ornate building, decorated with the finest of silver, was once the home of the royal family. It's now the headquarters of Parliament, but its extravagance keeps it a palace in the minds of the people.

Grand Street Market

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A large selection of goods is available here at a wide variety of shops, stands, and peddlers' carts.

Smog Way

Smog Way by RolePlayGateway

From the crowd of brick buildings, dark clouds rise.

Romilly Park and Wood

Romilly Park and Wood by RolePlayGateway

Here is a spot of green, a relief from the pressures of modern life.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Roscoe
Character Portrait: Vespasian Pyrroman
Character Portrait: Bertram Drake
Character Portrait: Sparrow
Character Portrait: Jocelyn De Winter
Character Portrait: Sk??gursson
Character Portrait: Dorothy Violet Prescott
Character Portrait: Amon Stark
Character Portrait: Thane

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Character Portrait: Thane
Thane

He takes no prisoners.

Character Portrait: Amon Stark
Amon Stark

A highly-proficient magician and political radical, Stark had turned his considerable will to breaking the boundaries between his own world and the planes that surround it.

Character Portrait: Dorothy Violet Prescott
Dorothy Violet Prescott

A frail figure keeps her head down, attempting to make herself as invisible as possible.

Character Portrait: Sk??gursson
Sk??gursson

Noble, yet childlike, this lowly guardian has the mind of a lamb.

Character Portrait: Jocelyn De Winter
Jocelyn De Winter

"I would give anything I possess to have my brother restored to me. Anything."

Character Portrait: Sparrow
Sparrow

An entity of anarchy, chaos, and freedom. One wild and crazy guy.

Character Portrait: Bertram Drake
Bertram Drake

Master of fire and smoke. Educated, wealthy, and exceedingly powerful. Do not annoy him.

Character Portrait: Vespasian Pyrroman
Vespasian Pyrroman

A powerful, ancient fire spirit and solar luminary, ruler of the realm of Pyroborea. Known for his fury, when roused, and his total control of the flames.

Character Portrait: Amelia Roscoe
Amelia Roscoe

A despairing heiress forced into a loveless marriage by her family's desire for a 'good match'.

Trending

Character Portrait: Thane
Thane

He takes no prisoners.

Character Portrait: Amon Stark
Amon Stark

A highly-proficient magician and political radical, Stark had turned his considerable will to breaking the boundaries between his own world and the planes that surround it.

Character Portrait: Sk??gursson
Sk??gursson

Noble, yet childlike, this lowly guardian has the mind of a lamb.

Character Portrait: Jocelyn De Winter
Jocelyn De Winter

"I would give anything I possess to have my brother restored to me. Anything."

Character Portrait: Dorothy Violet Prescott
Dorothy Violet Prescott

A frail figure keeps her head down, attempting to make herself as invisible as possible.

Character Portrait: Amelia Roscoe
Amelia Roscoe

A despairing heiress forced into a loveless marriage by her family's desire for a 'good match'.

Character Portrait: Bertram Drake
Bertram Drake

Master of fire and smoke. Educated, wealthy, and exceedingly powerful. Do not annoy him.

Character Portrait: Vespasian Pyrroman
Vespasian Pyrroman

A powerful, ancient fire spirit and solar luminary, ruler of the realm of Pyroborea. Known for his fury, when roused, and his total control of the flames.

Character Portrait: Sparrow
Sparrow

An entity of anarchy, chaos, and freedom. One wild and crazy guy.

Most Followed

Character Portrait: Vespasian Pyrroman
Vespasian Pyrroman

A powerful, ancient fire spirit and solar luminary, ruler of the realm of Pyroborea. Known for his fury, when roused, and his total control of the flames.

Character Portrait: Bertram Drake
Bertram Drake

Master of fire and smoke. Educated, wealthy, and exceedingly powerful. Do not annoy him.

Character Portrait: Thane
Thane

He takes no prisoners.

Character Portrait: Sparrow
Sparrow

An entity of anarchy, chaos, and freedom. One wild and crazy guy.

Character Portrait: Amon Stark
Amon Stark

A highly-proficient magician and political radical, Stark had turned his considerable will to breaking the boundaries between his own world and the planes that surround it.

Character Portrait: Jocelyn De Winter
Jocelyn De Winter

"I would give anything I possess to have my brother restored to me. Anything."

Character Portrait: Sk??gursson
Sk??gursson

Noble, yet childlike, this lowly guardian has the mind of a lamb.

Character Portrait: Dorothy Violet Prescott
Dorothy Violet Prescott

A frail figure keeps her head down, attempting to make herself as invisible as possible.

Character Portrait: Amelia Roscoe
Amelia Roscoe

A despairing heiress forced into a loveless marriage by her family's desire for a 'good match'.


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Eudona

Eudona by Marionette

You've crossed into the fair nation of Eudona.

[Thread Play]

[Thread Play] by RolePlayGateway

This is where all RP posts should go. Treat this like a normal thread. Please do not post in other areas; they are information pages and chat locations only.

Silver Palace

Silver Palace by RolePlayGateway

This ornate building, decorated with the finest of silver, was once the home of the royal family. It's now the headquarters of Parliament, but its extravagance keeps it a palace in the minds of the people.

Grand Street Market

Grand Street Market by RolePlayGateway

A large selection of goods is available here at a wide variety of shops, stands, and peddlers' carts.

Smog Way

Smog Way by RolePlayGateway

From the crowd of brick buildings, dark clouds rise.

Romilly Park and Wood

Romilly Park and Wood by RolePlayGateway

Here is a spot of green, a relief from the pressures of modern life.

[Thread Play]

[Thread Play] Owner: RolePlayGateway

This is where all RP posts should go. Treat this like a normal thread. Please do not post in other areas; they are information pages and chat locations only.

Eudona

You've crossed into the fair nation of Eudona.

Romilly Park and Wood

Eudona Romilly Park and Wood Owner: RolePlayGateway

Here is a spot of green, a relief from the pressures of modern life.

Smog Way

Eudona Smog Way Owner: RolePlayGateway

From the crowd of brick buildings, dark clouds rise.

Silver Palace

Eudona Silver Palace Owner: RolePlayGateway

This ornate building, decorated with the finest of silver, was once the home of the royal family. It's now the headquarters of Parliament, but its extravagance keeps it a palace in the minds of the people.

Grand Street Market

Eudona Grand Street Market Owner: RolePlayGateway

A large selection of goods is available here at a wide variety of shops, stands, and peddlers' carts.

Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » At a Price: Out of Character

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Most recent OOC posts in At a Price

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

Update on my fail-life and yes I could have edited my last post, but then no one would read this:

Next Friday I am moving out of my student digs at long last and I'm going to be spending two weeks thereafter with my family whilst looking for a new home. Now, this in itself is not a problem - I'll have time to post and be in charge but once I get a new place, it might be a little while before we get internet again, as we're unlikely to before one of us gets a job.

To this end, I haven't put up the interest check because if I start the thread, I might not be around for a while to run the roleplay.

So I pose two options: One, I hand over what I have written up to someone else to run this instead. Two, someone else takes over the helm and makes the choices.

This is not a regular occurence for me. Once I get internet back, I will be back for good.

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

Majority seems to be the with the total reboot with new ideas. Okie-dokey then!

I've been talking through yet *another idea* with Monroe and once I get a spare moment, I'm going to write it up and submit it as an Interest Check for a few days and then get a roleplay set up.

It's not going to be as soul-stealing contract-based, but I think stepping away from that is a good thing and hopefully the new idea will still be as good and as dynamic.

So, just give me some time and thank you all for being patient. A massive thank you to Marionette as well, for the original idea and bringing us all together like this so we can have a second chance.

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

I'm with Monroe, I'm afraid...

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

I'm more in favor of a complete restart with new concepts. I think there were elements to the old one that just didn't work, and that in part led to its end. I think simply going with the exact same concept may produce similar results. I'm going to leave this one to majority vote though.

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

What a twist! We go through a torrent of rather nice ideas, and now Ms. Marionette has came back. Although I'm sorry to hear how things have been troubling you, it's nice to know that you're well. =)

Now that we have confirmation from Marionette, perhaps we could satisfy both options: There's the possibility of implementing the novel ideas from our brainstorming into the plot, all the while sticking with the initial story. Maybe maybe?

But, as Fly said, Vespasian's already made a prominent stamp on their partnership, though if we could somehow work around that smoothly, then returning to the old thread would be ideal. Then again, we've been permitted to use the concepts in full, so I'm fine with either way.

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

Well at things are getting back to normal, I hope they stay that way. ^^

Hmm...

We have went through all the trouble of starting new plans, plus it would be pretty hard to replace my partner...

So my vote is to stick with new thread.

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

Thank you guys for understanding! You're very welcome, but it's really nothing. That you're getting enjoyment out of the ideas is enough for me. :)

At the moment, it would probably be best for me not to make any commitments, lest I have trouble keeping them again, but things do seem to have settled down. I'll just leave it in your capable hands for now, but maybe I'll be able to pop in at a future date.

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

You do not need to apologise my dear, as Northern has already stated. Life throws you curveballs and we certainly can't object to you putting your personal life above roleplaying. *nods*

We just didn't want your wonderful idea to go to waste, especially when we were all enjoying it so much! Thank you kindly! If you can join us Marionette, we would be delighted, even if it only as a plotter. =-D

So now, a simple decision to make everyone... do we continue with 'At A Price' in a different form, now that we have Marionette's permission or do we battle through all this plotting to try and make a new thread?

I put in one vote for staying with this. I like the characters and the premise; we just need to find another partner for Remy Faux!

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

There's absolutely no need to apologise, Marionette! I'm pretty sure we all understand that occasionally real life has to take precedent. Thanks so much for letting us commandeer your RP (if of course, you're not joining us...)

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

I apologize for disappearing. I was having various personal problems, though there's really no excuse, so I won't bore you with them. Imehal PMed me asking for permission to use the RP's concept, etc., and I have given it in full. I'm glad you guys like the idea of the RP so much, and again, I'm sorry this ended up like it did.

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

Hmmm...

I'm not going to lie, I am confused. @_@

Though there is no need to explain, as I am sure the intro of the RP will do that for me. So you all can just count me in for whatever. ^^

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

o_O I'll wait for flysociety before I do anything... but I cannot believe you guys are even thinking of leaving me in charge... Fools! =-P

I wouldn't have taken offense if everyone had gone 'Ooh, Northern's idea rocks; let's go with that!' It's just what we all want to do at the end of the day, to create a roleplay we can all be proud of and enjoy.

Secondly, I'm loving all the food and cook metaphors. They are making me chuckle!

I think if we're going to create a pantheon, this is going to get bigger than we can handle really, really fast. I'm getting the impression that if we do use the Gods, there isn't really any point the God hanging around too much, as they can bestow their power/influence from wherever they are on the world, one could wager.

Saying that, I adore Northern's concept for keeping one half of each contract somewhat supernatural, so how about this? Instead of my higher mage/lower mage idea, how about we take what I touched upon - mainly to preserve Skogi - to a higher extent?

I sound so arrogant right now, but use my world and the general idea I had going but implement that instead of the 'Bondees' being higher mages, make them instead all mythical beings, whether they be from Ibaria or further afield in the world. I do have brief concepts for each country within Galtien. Now, these beings are usually forbidden from acting in mortal affairs, forced to exist alongside but never melding with the mass population.

However, each tribe is allowed one member of their tribe to go forward into the world, for a reason I haven't come across yet, as long as they keep their activities largely ineffectual on the course of human history. Of course the leader of the aforementioned rebellion has joined forces with one of the more nefarious extraordinary tribes - this can be a player or NPC *nods* - and now the civil war that should have been between two regions of a country and their allies has been transformed into something far, far more diverse.

These powerful supernatural beings making pacts with human mages is not unheard of, but never before has any of the pacts so directly affected the course of history and society for the human population and those people who have seemingly made rather innoculous pacts with certain beings now find themselves hunted by the rebellion leader and his pact partner and their combined armed forces to elimenate other supernatural influence within this war, ensuring success on their side.

Eh, that didn't read as well as I thought it might.

Still, it corporates the slightly more 'vessel'-otherworldly being' theme that Northern was going after, the civil war aspect that everyone seems keen on and of course, the contract basis with which we all love. It also means all the partnerships can have their individual Bonds still, but there is also a greater purpose tying them together as well, whether they be good, neutral or evil. *nods*

So, how about that? Comments? Oh and you are all still fools for letting me be in control. =-P

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

Rather than Greek-style gods then, perhaps angels? Obviously not angels as we know them- shiny, fluffy wings, goody two-shoes types- but angels that come in various shades of grey?

But I agree about cooks and broth... Tell you what, how about we just leave Imehal to it and let her incorporate whatever she thinks will work best (I promise I won't take offence if you decide to ditch the gods/demigods/priests thing!) since she went to the effort of typing up a juicy long intro for us?

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

In keeping with the preplanned medieval motif, what if the pantheon wasn't necessarily Greek, but fell under a more Anglican theme? The whole idea of deities is a very enticing one, and it would be nice to try to implement it somehow. Unfortunately, I also agree with Monroe on most aspects; we're a plot happy band and that's perfectly dandy, though our overall idea is at risk of turning into a plate of goulash.

So do we tally ho with Galtien, or do we spend a bit more time in the kitchen? (Goddern it, Monroe, you've got me talking about food.)

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

I no longer know what I want. There are a lot of really, really good ideas here, but I'm worried if we keep going like this it's going to be a case of too many cooks in the kitchen. I think instead of having everyone toss their two cents in (myself included) it might be better to choose one person to run this and come up with the concept, or maybe two people to collaborate and co-run. I have faith in the ideas of everyone in this group, so I'm sure I would be on board with whatever they come up with. Right now, I think everything is getting muddled and there's no way to democratically decide what to do. My personal instinct is telling me that Imehal and Northern could come up with a really cool roleplay together, but that's just me.

I'm impressed with the Greek idea, and I think it might incorporate the concept best, but I'm not entirely on board with an ancient Greek roleplay just yet. I also don't think it would work well with a feudal system or a "masquerade" necessarily. I'm sure there could be some sort of festival similar to a masquerade though, and if it's priests and priestesses communing and bargaining with gods, then we don't really need the indentured servitude aspect.

Still, I'm kind of leaning more toward a medieval world.... I guess let's wait and hear what Tae and Fly think.

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

Lol, it's OK- I'm surprised myself when I can actually form a semi-coherent idea. It doesn't happen that often!

Well, perhaps we can blend it into your setting- keep the names of the places and the feudal system-type government. I also really like the idea of a civil war and a masquerade so we could keep both of those aspects too? And perhaps we can all come up with a pantheon of Greek-inspired gods?

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

Okay; that's not a bad idea at all! I actually rather like it. Ack, that makes me sound surprised and I'm really not. There's a decent and well-motivated plot behind it as well.

Hmm, let's see what everyone else thinks. My only concern would be people either god-modding (quite literally!) so that they're stupidly powerful. Otherwise, I'd like to see that idea expanded as well.

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

Yeah, that's fine by me- I suppose the tab system lets us utilise chat if we want to, too.

And as for the gods/demi-gods thing...

At the dawn of humankind, a Zeus-like god made it so that the gods were forbidden to directly interfere in human affairs in their godly forms. They could only walk on Earth as mortals (albeit in the shape of a human or an animal or a mythical creature) and even then, they were devoid of all but the most insignificant of their powers.
They could only regain some of their abilities provided they entered into a contract with humans who had a natural communion with the godly other-world (i.e. our 'summoners'). Upon doing this, they were obliged to fulfil that contract in order to keep their powers.
A god might enter into a contract simply because they were bored or because they wanted to exert some influence over the human world. The ability to form a communion with a god might alternatively be seen as a great gift and a summoner might become a high priest/priestess (if their bond is with a popular god) or akin to summoning a demon (if their bond is with one of the more nefarious gods). Or perhaps a new ruler decides to go against the gods and prevent their interference once and for all by hunting down all of the potential summoners.

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

EDIT:
EDIT: Oh and I kind of fancied a classical Ancient Greek/Roman-type setting where the 'visitors' were gods or demi-gods but if I'm out-voted on that, nevermind!


I read that as 'seeing as I am out-voted' rather than 'if I'm out-voted'... I have no idea why... lack of sleep I wager. My sincerest apologies.

Ah, now I see where you're coming from. Okay! Yay, more prospective ideas!

Ugh; that is the question right? I think a tab roleplay is manageable and I micro-manage awfully well if I set this up, but again, go with the majority. *nods*

Re: At a Price - OOC - Open!

Um, what? That's the first time I suggested it! We could in incorporate it if you want.

Also, to tab or not to tab? What do people think?

cron