The Underground

There is a world beneath the human one, a world where creatures from myth and legend still stalk the streets and live their lives quietly in an attempt to survive in the humans ignorance. Every city has its secret culture and society of these creatures, though very few in the human world know of its existence. The government knows, of course, but largely allows these creatures to live in peace so long as they do not threaten the stability of the human world. The Underground, as it is called, is far from a safe place for these beings, however; various factions bicker and squabble for control, and every Zone has its own unique dangers and factions. However, it is a safer place than the human world for some, since many of the creatures are so monstrous that they would be found out in an instant in the human world, so must stay below in The Underground for their own safety. Glamours to make these creatures look human are available...but at a price, and many can't afford it, as The Undergrounds economy is heavily weighted towards the Upper Classes. The poor get poorer and the rich get richer, as they say.

You are one of these creatures, trying to survive in this New World of secrecy and hidden conflict. Are you a soldier for a local faction, or the leader of a Noble House? Are you a humble shopkeeper, or a master assassin? A street urchin who grew from childhood to slip in and out of shadows to survive, or an out of towner with no idea how the politics and society of this new area works? The decision is yours....but beware. Around every corner lies a new danger, a new threat, and life in The Underground is always a risk. There are even rumours of a new faction rising...a terrorist cell, determined to take back the world from the Humans. They could change everything, if the rumours are true...and not necessarily for the better...

Welcome to The Underground, adventurer.
Have a pleasant stay.


The Zones

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Playable Species

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Factions:

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Glamours:

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So! That's the write up including everything we discussed. If I missed something, please let me know. Post the links to your bios below, and I will include a brief one-line summary of your character along with the link up here.

Character List/Players:
- Zalgo Driim, Male Warlock, played by Zalgo The Imminent.
- Tristan Astereus, Male Ordo Dracul, played by Murdoch.
- Genevieve Snyder, Female Half-WereTiger, Half-Shaman., played by Faith Wynters.
- Kiaki Matsuoka, Female Aniwolf, played by Jade Hawk.
- Monique Terren, Female Magi, played by Burn It.
- Mason Walker, Male UPD Werewolf, played by Mason_W.


Current Posting Order:

- Burn It,
- Mason_W,
- Murdoch,
- Jade Hawk,
- Faith Wynters
- Zalgo

My bio is up there now.

That bio is perfect, Jade. It has all the information that we need. We'll just wait for Alex's bio, then we can get started.

Yey! -Hugs- That's really nice to have someone say that in a roleplay! I love you guys, you make AMX the best! So many other places people are just like "Accepted. But my bio is better."

Yeah, some places are really snotty and snobby about that sort of thing. It's why I don't have many sites I RP on, heh. But yeah, it's good. Got all the information we need, and I don't see the point in having a bio-measuring contest. *shrug*.

FIGURED IT OUT. Sweet.

Here you are dearies

Right, so. Who wants to go first? I think we need to maintain a posting order so people don't get left too far behind, though.

Additional:

The starting date is 1st October 2014, the first day of the First Quarter of the moon cycle (half moon). This will last until the 4th October 2014, when it will be Waning Gibbous. This will last until the 7th October, and the 8th will be first day of the Full Moon, which will last for three days, the last full moon being on the 10th. Technically speaking the moon is only truly full for a fraction of a second, so I suggest to make it easier to play the characters that only the night that has the True Full Moon enforces the transformation in Were's, whereas the other Full Moon nights it just gets harder to control. So the first day it gets harder to control, then on the second Full Moon the transformation is enforced for the night, and then on the last day it's a little easier to control. However, if people want forced transformation on all three of these nights, then I will bow to the majority. The above is just my suggestion.

Any objections before we start, or does the date work for everybody (we need to keep track of the date so we can keep track of the lunar cycles for the Were characters, NPC and PC alike).

October 5th is my birthday!!! And AMX's... I think I'll make it my character's as well =)

No objections here. As for who might start, I believe the tradition is poster starts.

Murdoch, since you and I are kinda at the same place at the same time, if it's easier for me to go first just let me know. Since you are first poster by tradition

I relinquish that right to you, Alex; given that we are in the same area and we are meeting for your characters meeting, it feels right that you should set the scene of the meeting, heh. Besides, I've just finished a 63 line post for another RP elsewhere, so I'm a tad burnt out at the moment and need some recharging time, haha.

OOC: I have left it pretty vague, not entering the room until you get a word in and can establish where you are. Why I left you out, hope that's okay
Mind my post - it's been A WHILE. My creativity is a little rusty.

BIC

740 Queens Street. 740 Queens Street.

Over and over again I went over that address in my mind. That address is the reason I'm standing in this elevator, viciously tapping away with my right heal against the floor. The beeping sound as I passed the floors made my heart race faster, and my foot tap quicker. I had never been this nervous about a client before. Never had I panicked this hard to make an impression. And to start it off, I was late. It was 8:58am, meeting was supposed to commence at 9:00am. I still have more floors to go through, and I still need to reread over both theirs and my proposal – which I didn’t do. Andrew did. He always does them.

Andrew was my life. Not in 'that' sense, but in the ‘I literally would not be where I am without him’. Before me, my older brother Marcus was in charge of this company. I his right hand, and Andrew, besides being a brother to us, was another executive among three at the time. When my brother left for England, he signed the company over to me. Just handed me a package of papers and marked where to sign and it was mine. Everything. An owner and CEO at the age of 22. At the time I didn’t expect it, nor did I want it. At the time.

I dropped the portfolio and the papers spilled out everywhere. Just what I needed.. it was a sign that this meeting would go to complete and utter shit. I wouldn’t get the support I need and I would be able to continue with construction of my next branch hospital. Located in the northern end of town where the commute to the closest hospital was a 30 minute drive. Unacceptable. Unreliable. I needed this new addition – my company needed it. 740 Queens Street would be the lot where my construction finally ends. Where I get to stop building and watch them grow on their own. But only if this meeting went well. I'm building in an area that is untouched by anyone I really know.

That’s what I’m getting from this. The Bealien family has shown an interest in my intentions, and as such wishes to offer support in building in their ‘territory’. Which, kindly means we’ll let you do it and we won’t massacre your entire patient list in a night for something in return. I'm used to it by now really.

Finally the elevator doors opened up to the 12th floor and there stood Andrew outside the meeting room, looking like he wanted to throw me back down the shaft head first. His angry-face wasn’t what it normally is though.. There was something off. He was worried as well as furious.

“Why do you look like you’re not just angry with me?" He looked at me speechless but wanting to scream at the same time – probably at me. He shook his head, looked down at his own portfolio which had an array of pictures of the men I was supposed to be seated at a table with two minutes ago.

“None of them are in there. No one from my files are sitting in that room.. I don’t know who they are.” He rushed, in what was likely the calmest voice he could muster. “You must have the pictures wrong then. It has to be them.” I paused, relaxing myself before I even thought about walking through that door.

OOC: Eh, it's ok. I think I have an in. Sorry it took so long....recharging my batteries, and got distracted by shiny things on youtube, "Shiny" here meaning "I accidentally ended up watching an episode of Hellsing Ultimate on Youtube." Heh. Yeah. I might have to start watching that seriously....looks like something I would enjoy.

Anyway. I would suggest looking at Tristan's bio for an idea of what he looks like.

IC:

This meeting is completely pointless; he told Monique that when she informed him of her plans, but she didn't believe him. Humans. Always thinking they know best, when in reality they know very, very little. Why would she ask him for his input into Vampire politics if she wasn't going to listen to him? He hasn't had many dealings with the Bealian family before now - they tend to run in different circles, and whilst House Astereus has its fingers in many, many pies, they have never really had reason to discuss a formal alliance before. That suits Tristan - the Bealian's are a small, almost inconsequential House in the long run, and really any threat they make will likely not amount to much except a brief inconvenience to anybody larger than them - but he can understand Monique's insistence on due diligence, and in fact he applauds it. Just because the meeting is not likely to result in much does not mean that you should not investigate the possibility of making your endeavours easier on yourself, and as tiny as House Bealian is, it can still cause wrinkles in Monique's plans. No, he does not disagree with her actions....he disagrees with the importance she ascribes to House Bealian. The endeavour will likely result in success regardless of the Bealian's possible interference, simply because she already has several larger allies that would give Bealian pause.

For one, House Astereus makes no secret of its alliance with the Terren Family - an alliance that only stretches back a year or so, but one that has proven to be beneficial to both parties; a free exchange of information, sharing of contacts, support of troops if need be, commodities and resources (for example, the Terren hospitals have access to a lot of blood), etc etc; in short, an alliance that suits them both, and as Patriarch of House Astereus, Tristan would be remiss to allow it to end prematurely - and House Bealian would be foolish to openly provoke another Vampire House over nothing more than a tiny corner of land. They may embargo some supplies, but a few armed guards and maybe a House Astereus soldier or two, and House Bealian would withdraw their interference for fear of starting something bigger. Oh, some Houses would definitely scrabble to side with Bealian, but the same would be true of Astereus and Terren, and he doubts that Bealian would risk starting a full-on House War that they may very well lose over a new building somewhere near their powerbase. It's all about risk/reward, and it would be a very large risk for very little possible reward....of course, the Patriarch of House Bealian has never been blessed with an abundance of brains. He has a habit of being disrespectful and very passive-aggressive in his dealings with other Houses he thinks he can push around, even if he can't, and if his vantage point from the balcony overlooking the entrance to the meeting room is anything to go by, he is trying his old tricks here.

When he was apprised of this meeting, he made a point of researching House Bealian in-depth, including trading histories, past disputes, favoured tactics and even their Officers and lead Diplomats...none of whom are present today. He does vaguely recognise them - they had to give their names as they entered, and the names gave them away - as second-or-third tier negotiators, only briefly mentioned as assistants to their top-tier representatives in the comprehensive activity indexes that he has his spies and agents collate at the end of each year (a habit he fell into some time ago, to spot patterns and habits and keep track of noteworthy individuals, so he always had a point of reference when dealing with another House or Faction). These negotiators must believe that they are being promoted - they walked in with the haughty airs of those with a puffed-up sense of self importance - but in reality, they are being used to insult. The only reason you would send third-rate representatives with no real power within their own Houses is either to show that the negotiations mean little to you, to show that you do not intend them to be successful or you want to stall, or both. Tristan has seen this trick enough times by other Houses as well as Bealian to know that they have no intention of allowing Monique to have their "Permission" to continue the construction, and they want to show her how little her request means to them....part of him bristles. He doesn't much care about Monique's feelings, but she has proven herself to be a reliable enough ally, and by insulting her, they are insulting him...and he has shown up to this meeting as well. For a Patriarch of a Vampire House to be shown such disrespect...well, House Wars have been started over less. He would be within his rights....but no. He will not start a war over petty pride. Risk/Reward, remember?

He takes a small puff of his pipe, blowing the smoke out in a small ring and watching it dance away across the large antechamber. The room is a simple rectangular one, furnished with comfortable leather chairs, tables and bookshelves for those waiting outside, along with a currently empty receptionist desk. A pair of Monique's guards stand at the entrance to the meeting room - a room that faces the rising sun, curtains magically enchanted to stay open to give everybody in there an even footing today, since the sun depowers the Ordo Dracul negotiators into ordinary humans, though that is not of concern to him, given is insistence on learning how to fight at a young age - with a pair of his own bodyguards sitting somewhat more casually on the leather chair. Don't get the wrong idea, however; they may be flicking idly through the magazines, pretending not to pay attention, but Karl and Damian are very, very good at what they do. They're identical twins, and are both about average height at around 5'10, with athletic builds and short blonde hair. Their eyes are a dark, unassuming brown, and upon first glance, whilst they are muscular-ish, they do not look particularly dangerous...you would be mistaken for thinking that. He has more guards around the building, of course, but those two are his best. They may look young, and even know they are having a somewhat heated bicker over something in the magazine - he could hear what they were saying, if he cared to - but they are far more capable than you would imagine.

He himself is standing on the balcony overlooking said room, a small stretch of corridor that runs from the two separate areas of the floor above the one the meeting room is on. It is somewhat gaudy and an unnecessary and even wasteful design, but it is a good place to watch people arrive without being seen unless they specifically look up at the area. Some people may lean over the railing, but not Tristan. He stands straight backed, left hand resting idly on his hip and elbow pointed behind him, with his right hand holding his pipe up to his lips as he puffs thoughtfully. He glances at the clock. 8:58. Monique is cutting it close...she is likely to be stressed at running so close to the wire. He doubts that learning that House Bealian sent their junior representatives will improve her mood any. Just as he's about to fish out his phone and call Monique to see where she is - it's not a good sign if he arrives before her for her own meeting that is supposedly important to her - she hurries through the door, obviously irate and rushed. He shakes his head. This will be an amusing morning for spectators, no doubt, but he has a feeling that the Bealian negotiators will not enjoy it one bit. He almost feels sorry for them...and then he remembers that they were sent specifically to insult him. Then he doesn't feel sorry any more.

He sighs quietly - he was enjoying his smoke - and puts the pipe out, storing it in his breast pocket. It's a habit he got into back in England in the Victorian era - you weren't a real gentleman if you didn't have a pipe - and enjoyed the image it gave him. Besides, why would he stop? It isn't like Vampires need their lungs, and it gives him something to do when he's bored and doesn't want to look like he's bored. Smoking a pipe is the upper-class, accepted method of fidgeting. He adjusts his monocle - again, habit, image, etc etc - steps up onto the balcony railing....and steps off. He falls through the air, landing lightly and quietly on the floor of the antechamber, just in time to hear Monique being told that the men in the meeting room are not the main negotiators that they were told to expect. She - somewhat understandably, but foolishly - suggests that the pictures are wrong. They aren't; Tristan checked them himself. He walks up beside Monique - who, having been preoccupied, didn't notice him until now - and shakes his head.

"No, Miss Terren, the pictures are correct. The men who arrived are not the top representatives of House Bealian." His crisp upper-class English accent cuts through the room as he comes to a stop a few steps in front of her. He smooths out his suit jacket, trying to get rid of any wrinkles. "It is a tactic common of their House, I am afraid. If I were to postulate, I would assume that the presence of third-tier negotiators signals that they have no intention of granting your request. This is merely them attempting to demonstrate their dominance and self-assumed importance over the Terren Family and House Astereus." He places his hands behind his back, one hand resting loosely on the others wrist as both forearms rest on his waist. He sniffs derisively, perhaps the closest to a scoff or a snort you will ever hear come from his vicinity. "A childish tactic, meant to humiliate to be sure. House Bealian is, by all accounts, a small House with delusions of Grandeur. This is the limit of their disrespect...if you were to enter the meeting and dismiss them all without hesitation, nobody save House Bealian could honestly argue that you were unjustified. I would, however, caution a more diplomatic approach than that...but that decision lies with you." He looks at her for a long moment, straight backed and composed. What will she do? Humans are so unpredictable sometimes. It really is rather enjoyable to watch how they behave in unforeseen circumstances...he wonders how Monique will react now?

OOC: It's been a long time for me, too. Sorry if it takes me a few posts to get back into the swing of things.

The pads of my paws had grown rough on these dry and dirty streets. They had become cracked in places and on occasion I winced as I walked. It was dark here, but this had nothing to do with it being day or night. It was dusty and a dull haze lay over the slums like a thick blanket. Most who lived here because sick from the atmosphere. I avoided the gazes of those standing in the alleyways as they coughed and choked and spat at the ground ahead of me. I grimaced and and small rumbling growl escaped my throat in disgust. I may be one of them, homeless, dirty, thin, but I refused to fall to their uncouth level. Despite how tired and hungry I was, I kept in mind the emotions of those around me. Here, however, their thoughts were usually "Stay away from me or I'll kill you where you stand." So avoidance was my preferred technique. If they weren't drunk or on some form of drug, they generally preferred to be left alone anyway.

I was truly one of them. Dirty. Lost. I preferred to be left alone. This wasn't because I liked the quiet life. I longed for a friend or someone who wasn't trying to use my fur for clothes or my meat for food. I missed my pack. But in these streets, being alone was far better than being beaten alive by broken bottles or stabbed by blunt switchblades.

I traced my familiar steps towards a lowly tavern that lined the edge of a side-street. Around this time it was usually fairly empty, and I knew that the previous day the owners had done their monthly clean out. This never consisted of actually cleaning, but by clearing space in the bar by dumping the unwanted filth in to the streets. As I drew close, I saw the expected piles of old and damp boxes piled up against the brick wall of the pub. These were great for hiding behind to avoid unwanted attention. Amongst the boxes was a collection of empty bottles and a tub labelled "butter". It was said that this was genuine butter imported from the upper residential area, but I knew better. It was no more than lard. Despite overcharging the lower residents for this fat, it was still far cheaper than real butter and real butter would be treated like liquid gold and not tossed into the streets to rot.

Wincing again as the dry pavement pressed hard against my cracked pads, I gingerly stepped over what I assumed was a puddle of old vomit and dips my paws into the bucket. The lard was slimy and disgusting. I shut my eyes tight as I placed one leg after the other into the bucket to soften up my pads. The cool fat was soothing, even if gross and slippery. I stepped back out again and sat on the hard ground by the bucket. I had heard about something called a Glamour, but didn't know much about it. I wasn't sure where to buy one, how to use them, or what they really were. All I knew is that I wanted one. I wanted to blend in with the people on occasion, and getting work with a human appearance would be much easier. But most of all, I wanted to wear shoes. Stepping in lard every so often was not ideal.

I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment before hearing a gruff voice.
"Hey, Puppy."
I opened my eyes and gazed upon a scruffy looking man, muscular in build and covered in matted facial and body hair. His eyes were yellow and hungry looking. His teeth were pointed and as he grinned at me he licked his cracked lips through his evidential pain. I let out a snarl and narrowed my eyes. Of course, the moon. He's a were. Hatred filled up my lungs as I glared at him. But now was not the time to fight. I was tired.

I averted my eyes began to walk off through the alley when he spoke again.
"Come on, sexy, come and play."
I stopped at these words, turned around, and looked at him again.
"Call me that one more time, and you'll see just how dangerously I 'play'".
"Feisty little bitch, aren't ya! I like that."
I scoffed and walked away. Thankfully, he didn't follow. My threat was empty. I have enough skills to defend myself, but I was tired and hungry and not in any condition to take anyone of his size at the moment. I heard a pained howl behind me and knew that the werewolf was beginning to struggle against his transformations already.

I continued my way down my path sniffing out any source of food. I willing to pick out of the trash again today, even though I generally avoid this, but I was in a great need. In a few days, however, I must refuse. The full moon was a dangerous time to be out and I had no one to protect me here. That and... with a lonely thought, soon it will be my Birthday.

“I don’t understand how you can reduce our euthanization count to nothing! It’s incredible how you can pair the perfect animal with the perfect parent in little to no time” There’s a pause on the other end and I smile quietly, enjoying the praise that Kelly, my newest boss, had to offer. Then, there’s a sigh from the other end. “We’ll miss you” She is still happy, I can tell, but for a moment I don’t know what to say.

“I’ll be back in two weeks, don’t worry” Those are all the words I can think to say right now. I didn’t understand her sadness. I had only been working at the shelter a little over six months now, but she felt like we had grown a strong bond of friendship. I just did my job, which made her happy. Besides, by the way she spoke; one would think that she was losing me forever, not just for a two week ‘vacation’.

“Well have fun in the UK! Bring me something back if you get a chance” I smiled, looking over to the clock on the wall. It wasn’t very late in the day, and I was surprised I had slept in the little bit I had today. I was used to being up bright and early to take the bus to work.
“I’ll do my best” The words were soft, and after a quick farewell, the line was dead and I was once again left alone in my apartment. I watched the walls for a bit, almost as if they might melt away into nothingness. I hadn’t been in this place long. It was only until about a month after I acquired my first job that I even trusted myself to be able to continue payments on even the smallest of living places.

While not small, the apartment wasn’t the grandeur that most lived in. With only one bedroom, a small bathroom, and a larger space for both kitchen and living, the apartment was just right for me. I was used to living in smaller places, and the lack of money led me to find this cozy place. Now that I was settled in, I had no complaints; I had lived in worse at one point.
I hum began deep within my throat as I looked over the cleanliness I had achieved the night before. It was nice being off; I could relax and take care of the things I needed to get done. Of course, it was only a few hours the night before that had swayed me to clean the space and was not particularly my ‘vacation’ yet; it was a good start to everything. I glanced over at the clock once more. It was the first of the month. A great time to have work off for two weeks.

I rose from the small sofa to walk across the room and back into the bedroom. I still brandished my bedclothes: a symbol of my short freedoms from work. With the door closed, I looked around, finding clothing to put on. While I was off for the next fourteen days I was not particularly going to the United Kingdom as Kelly thought nor would I be staying in my apartment waiting for the moon to chase me away. I had planned on making the best of my days off. I had business to attend to.
“The moment you step foot into the city you make it to The Underground. Do you understand? I feel you will find what you are looking for there.” The words of Belneiros still rang in my ears. I felt my jaw clench as I pulled the sweater over my head. It had been a long while since I had disobeyed the orders of my friend, but honestly, at the present time I had seen no need in going. I still saw no need, but I could ignore the order no longer. There was something in this Underground I had heard so little about. There was something there for me or I would not have been sent to such a place.  What I needed was unknown to me, but the closer it came to a year from his care, the heavier it hung on my mind. Belneiros was a man of secrets, but even then I trusted him blindly enough to go to this place. The only real information I had been given was how to get there, but even that I wasn’t sure I remembered properly.

I buttoned up my pants, turning toward the door. It was early enough in the morning that I could catch the closest bus to where I needed to go, but if I didn’t hurry, I would have to wait another half hour or more. I hoped that Belneiros was truthful when he insisted that any time of day would be the right time to investigate the place he seemed to know so little about. If it was like the city, then I could more easily blend in my investigations of the area as to raise little to no suspicions on my trip. I liked it better that way. Keeping in the crowd when I needed to and running away if necessary is what had kept me alive the first month or so in the city. It was the first time I had been faced with shifting alone in a heavily populated area. Now, I knew my options and my way out of the city when the time got near. A few days in the forest never hurt anyone, and it was a good escape for me every month.

OOC: Sorry to sort of rush, I wanted to get something done before I need to run off to work. I left it open for you to decide how they act Murdoch, if that's something you're interested in :PI have a reaction in mind for how they do so to Monique already.

BIC:
My first thought was to dismiss everything Tristan had said to confirm what Andrew was telling me. That they were both wrong, foolish. But I knew they weren’t. They normally never are. My second thought was that I didn’t really have a thought at all – I didn’t know what to do from here. So I fidgeting; fixed the collar on my jacket and took one hand in the other behind my back, glaring at the door in front of me that lead to virtually nothing. No peace or negotiation, just an obstacle that may or may not cause one hell of an issue with my construction. I took a deep breath. I’d never been treated like this, not by anyone, even when this company wasn’t mine. Only difference is before it was I never expected ‘special’ treatment, but now that is it… And these men have been sent here as a sign of disrespect, arrogance, and to simply put it, make a fool of?

The Bealien family has underestimated me, has underestimated my associates, and what I'm willing to do to get what I want. I was flustered, yes, angry, annoyed. But I would take Tristan’s advice none the less, and go at this easy. Not that the thought of just killing them off wasn’t a thought in my mind, and I must say it’s a thought that makes me feel a whole lot better, but it wasn’t a realistic path. If the first time I'm treated like this I go at like a temperamental little girl then that doesn’t say much about me. The Bealien family will understand what they did wrong, that much is certain. But it won’t be from starting a war. Deal with it. Move on.

“Gentlemen, if you don’t mind I’d like you to enter first and seat yourselves. I’d like to see their reactions to you entering the room. Introduce yourselves. I’ll follow.” To this request I was referring to my staff; Andrew (COO), Jeffery (CTO), and Sebastian (CFO), and of course Tristan. My staff which as well as myself, are Magi. “Address them as you would anyone else we meet with, but keep it short. They may be here for the intentions of humiliation, but if they’re unaware of why exactly they’ve been sent then I don’t need them paying the price for it. I'm certain they’re own arrogance is going to give us all reasons for wanting to watch them burn individually, but until that time I ask that we all… play nicely.” I almost grinned, but my will power to relax enough wasn’t quite there yet. I took another deep breath and exhaled heavily, while fixing my jacket for what was probably the fourth time now.

While trying to muster how I would approach this when I'm in there, how I would talk, act, I got distracted by another. How would I send a message so colourful back to the Bealien family? Sending back body parts which I’ve already contemplated wouldn’t do anything, even if there was retaliation. But I could send something back with them… technically nothing would be missing, just might no longer be attached. It would be going against what I just said about playing nicely with the unknowing pawns of the Bealien’s insult… Finally I managed a small smirk. What’s the point in being the boss if you don’t get to make exceptions to yourself?

“Out of the seven in there, want the two most significant members in that room pointed out to me. They might be of low importance, but they’re still of importance. I’ll keep an eye for gestures or ways of letting me know. Someone just figure it out, please.” I said firmly, in a tone that says I don’t need anyone asking me why. Just kindly do as I ask. I took a step back from the door and gestured towards it for the men to enter the room, “Gentlemen, if you please.”

Do you have room for one more to play?

OOC: Of course we do, Alice. Just write up a bio, post it in the Character Bio board, put the link here and I'll review it and post it up in the subject post.

Alex, I'll get a reply done either tonight or tomorrow morning. I don't mind deciding how they act, but I was assuming that since it was your characters meeting, you would want to dictate how they acted....would you like them to be rude, arrogant? Or civil, yet distant?

https://anonymatrix.forumotion.com/t1333-alice-night-wing
That's my bio is it okay

OOC: Alice, whilst most of your bio looks good, you'll need to choose a species from the ones listed in the subject post. The species all come with their own power sets and weaknesses, so I'm afraid you can't mix and match. Sorry. I can appreciate that it's a lot of information to chunk through, but it is very important to the RP. Take a look, and let us know what species you would want to play as. Also, this is a modern times RP, so a sword might not be the best fit....you can have one, of course, but think about how she would get away with carrying it around outside of The Underground.


IC:


Tristan glances at Monique; she is obviously angry - why wouldn't she be? She is being disrespected and insulted by a small, almost inconsequentially tiny House with a puffed-up sense of importance, and for somebody like Monique, that will not sit well....humans. Always so eager to defend their bruised pride - but one thing he does respect about this human is that she is able to contain her anger for a time...not all the time - he has been within earshot of her fury before - but a lot longer than most humans and even many Vampires can manage. Anger is a powerful emotion, and pride a strong motivator, and those two together can drive even the most patient man or woman into rash decisions. It is the reason why he seeks to keep a firm lid on his own pride, and to maintain a realistic evaluation of his strengths and weaknesses at all times. It makes it that much harder to bait him into poor decisions or disadvantageous positions. It has saved his life more than a few times, being able to control his angry impulses...if he knows somebody is baiting him, well, he knows to look for a trap. And if he can spot the trap...he can set one of his own.

He lifts an eyebrow slightly at her request; it is a sensible one, sending her allies in first to ascertain the negotiators attitudes and relative hierarchy in order to best prepare for the meeting, but it is also a remarkable short sighted one for him personally. Yes, it would give her an advantage in the obviously dead-end negotiations, and it would let her know who to focus on in order to send the greatest insult back at House Bealian - which is what he knows she is doing; he has seen Monique annoyed too many times for him to suspect anything else, and she has a history of returning slights in kind....not the worst history to have, really; anybody who decides to pick a fight with you cannot complain if you fight back - but it would be very poor for him personally to come across as a subject. Being sent in first alongside her other minority partners in this alliance of hers sends the message that somehow, in some way, House Astereus is subservient to the Terren Family. This bit of information would no doubt make its way back to House Bealian, and in the event that the insult presented by Monique should be enough to provoke House Bealian, such information could be used to weaken House Astereus's standing amongst the other Vampire Houses, which in turn would lead to fewer allies in the event of a House War. At the least, it would result in some potentially important trading and political partners withdrawing contact with House Astereus, due to his perceived weakness that is inherent in being subservient to any human. If a House is subject to anybody except a Greater Vampire House, it is a sign of desperation and weakness within the Vampire community...and that would not be good.

He does not, however, take any offence. Monique is, somewhat understandably, largely ignorant of the nature of Vampire politics...in fact, that is one of the reasons she consults him so heavily; he has an insight into the political workings of the Vampire world and even, to an extent, the Underground as a whole (once you've been around for a few centuries, you start to spot patterns and trends a bit more easily than most people) that she sorely needs at times, and he suspects that it is one of the reasons she hasn't cut ties with him despite their many disagreements. They don't always get along - though he never stoops to such childish things as insults; he makes an effort to remain calm and courteous at all times - but he for one is not about to allow his pride to get in the way of such a lucrative partnership. However. He is not the junior member in this alliance....he is willing to accept equal partnership, since he can easily sell that to the other Vampire Houses as charity born of necessity (regardless of whether it's the truth or not), but nothing less. He watches the three Mage's as they move towards the door, but stays where he is, a small, slightly amused smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He notices her fidgeting. She's nervous. He stands perfectly still; he isn't.

"I think we should walk in together, Miss Terren," he says politely. "Whilst inconsequential, House Bealian can operate the rumour mill as adeptly as any House, and any sign - whether intentional or not - that I am subservient to a human would be unwise for the wellbeing of House Astereus." He pauses for a moment. "I do not believe that you intended your request in such a way, however that is how it could be interpreted, and that would put my House at risk. I'm sure you understand, do you not?" She may think it petulant, but it is better to be absent than to be seen as inferior to Monique, for his house, at least...and in the end, his House means far more to him than Moniques fragile ego or her little hospital. She may die, her hospitals may crumble, and even he may be executed, but House Astereus must remain, in some form or another...and he will not allow his house to come to ruin. Not ever.

Another pub and another and another. It came to no surprise that the residents here spent most of their time wondering the lower streets heavily intoxicated. It seemed to be the only form of entertainment around here. That being said, most who lived here were concentrating too hard on survival and work to worry about boredom. I was one of those who was concentrating on staying alive and working, except I was without any work currently. This was my reason for making my way down this specific street. 

My paws slipped slightly on the hard ground, still covered in grease. I was heading in the direction of a bar I knew of well, one that didn't try to pull off cheap lard as butter, in the hopes that I could find some form of employment. In my state, this as not easy. Another reason why I wanted to get my hands on a Glamour. Life was hard for a pup like me. I had never step paw nor foot in the upper residential area and doubted that I ever would. My only ticket up there would be for one of them to come down to my level and find me.

I reached the tavern I was looking for amongst the many other bars and pubs that stood around and slipped through the rickety wooden door. It was dark in here and gas lamps lined the dusty walls causing the numerous cobwebs to glisten in the light. They took electricity for granted in many places, but here it was definitely a luxury. The popularity of a place depended on money, but the difference between electric and gas lamps brought a different class of customer. Today, the place was almost barren and empty. There was a slim man huddled in the corner alone in a dingy traveling cloak, his hood draped over his face shielding his eyes. I could just about see blood dripping from his chin. He gave a raspy breath as I passed and I averted my eyes. A second man was sitting by the bar, his thick, callused hands wrapped around a large pint glass, his head lowered. The third was a burly man standing behind the bar, a dirty rag clutched in his hand, wiping a glass. The rag was so filthy, I doubted it was cleaning the glass he was holding at all. As I stepped towards the bar, the burly man dropped his rag on counter and waved the glass in my direction.

"Get out of here, mutt! We don't allow strays."
I said nothing but continued my walk towards him. 
"I said get out! Go on! Shoo! Mangy animal."
"That is no mutt, Ode, but she is indeed a stray." The man with his drink muttered.
"Forgive me," I said, speaking for the first time since entering. "My appearance may be deceiving. I am looking for work."
"An Animoid. We have no work for a dog like you here." The barkeep said.
"You'd be surprised." Spoke the second man.
"He's right, I am a hard worker. I can pull heavy loads, I can clean, advise, and as you are witnessing, communicate." I replied.
"Pull heavy loads? That's a joke, you're as scrawny as a fox." Said the barkeep.
"As I said, my appearance can be deceiving."

The barkeep, Ode, looked at me for a moment, then lowered his glass to the rag. The second man took a drink. 
The barkeep spoke again. "Your English is very good, but tell me. What else do you speak? Spanish? French? Orc? Obviously canine, you and the other shifters could probably chat for days."
"I am not a shifter." I grit my teeth. The thought of the Glamour came to the front of my mind again. As a human, I could easily get a job.
"What else do you speak?" He repeated.
"Japanese."
"HAH!" The man named Ode let out a bark-like laugh. "I've never heard of anything more useless! Get out of my pub, you dog. You'll die on the streets like the rest of them!"
With the man still laughing, I turned and made my way out of the tavern and back into the dark streets. The morning light made the dust float in front of my path as though mocking me.

"Wait!" I heard a voice behind me. The second man from the bar had abandoned his drink and was running after me. "Ki, slow down!"
"What do you want, Shane?"
"Listen, I know times are tough for you, but you can't just give up that quickly. Ode's as dumb as a sack of bricks, and as heavy as that, too. If you go back, I'm sure we can both talk him around.
"I don't need his employment. I can look elsewhere." I muttered.
"Kiaki," Shane sighed. "When was the last time you had a meal. Or any food at all?"
I didn't answer him. It was obvious that I wasn't in any healthy condition. As previously noted, I'm as scrawny as a fox.
"Let me get you something to eat and we can talk. You'll get you strength back at least, and then you can continue your search for work. Times are tough and you look pretty desperate. Pretty. And desperate." He smiled.
"Fine." I sighed, giving into his invitation. "Arigato gozaimasu."
"That's the ticket! Doitashimashite."