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"I'm warning you all, I've strategized at this game." He nodded confidently.

Can we just start roleplaying, or should we wait?

Ironically, of course, Fitzgerald nodded. "I'd play Monopoly. What about you, Wisp? Blake? Werewolf?"

"Well... the whole thing about trauma from childhood affecting people, that was Freud. That was a big part of Freud's theories, and it's sort of alluded to in Blue Velvet. Then here I am, thrown as a small child into a family with no memory..." He shrugged and finished the scotch.

"Mulholland Drive. By far." Fitzgerald tapped his fingers together absentmindedly. "I feel like it means that there is no point to meaning. A lot of it is on nostalgia, which everyone knows is pointless. Velvet laid on the Freud a bit much for my taste. Maybe it's because being a changeling...

Fitzgerald sighs. "Fine, I didn't know I was that intimidating." He puts acid in his words, then laughs. "Yes, Kubrick is a genius. One of my friends made me watch Lolita back when it came out and it was absolutely brilliant, and the man only got better. Then there's David Lynch and Tarantino...

"I just came here on my own," Fitzgerald specified, even though he hadn't been asked in the first place. "I used to spend time in human bars that looked like this." Well, at least this Blake fellow had no choice in making it obvious they were a robot. "How do most people find this bar?" He...

"I'm this tiny, and you're still reluctant?" Fitzgerald wouldn't admit to goading them on, and would never say that he was, even though it was exactly what he was doing. He finished the scotch and pushed it away. "A wind spirit and a werewolf against a changeling and a vampire, you'd think it...

"I don't want a fight." He sipped the scotch and smiled. A fight would be fun, even though he'd probably get destroyed. But the look of the black eye and bleeding nose was really cool, so it wasn't too much of a problem. "But if you do, alright." Maybe tie guy was right, though. "I don't know...

IC opinions of my character don't reflect my opinions, by the way! He's a pretentious asshole... and so am I, actually, but I think I'm a bit better than he is... :P

"Oh, so your species is all you are? That's kind of sad. No, that's really sad." He clenched his fist at the new music choice, then decided not to say anything. Maybe silence about this would get him his scotch faster. "So, according to your ideas of taste, I should be wearing one of those fairy...

Appearance: Name: Berwald Oxenstierna Country: Sweden Grouping: Nordic Position in School: Teacher of Design Age: 29 Gender: Male Sexual Preference: Bisexual Personality: Reserved, quiet, but underneath this appearance can be quiet emotional and mischievous. Backstory/A Bit...

"Oh please, I just want something that isn't shitty. And a drink." He rolled his eyes. "Besides, I at least have some taste, and my clothes don't scream from the goddamn rooftops that I'm a werewolf." He turned to the other girl. "Yeah, I'd rather play with the guy trying to make a statement...

"I'm sorry, is this trash ironic or something?" If Fitzgerald didn't have such an aversion to all things holy, he would have added a "Jesus Christ" to that sentence. "I can go to my car and get something good, if you have to rely on the radio for your bar. Or make a donation for some decent...

Fitzgerald hummed a Velvet Underground song under his breath as he stepped into the bar. He glanced over it quickly. On one hand, it wasn't humans, which was a plus. On the other hand, the thing with the teeth was dressed like a goddamn cupcake and everyone else made it so obvious what they were...

Am I still allowed to join? My friend recommended me here... Name: Fitzgerald Rademacher Age: 155, appears 25 Gender: Male-ish Sexuality: Bisexual Crush: Andrew Carnegie Datemate: Single Speices: Faerie (changeling) Personality: He thinks he's Lou Reed. Generally resourceful and...

Farewell, Randolph Carter, and beware; for I am Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos.