demonology
𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒚𝒕𝒉.
intro
bigmouth
the smiths
tldr.
Ahigh-lore roleplay following Pin Prick House, a fashion label that doubles as a dystopian rebellion at night. Beneath the warehouse of Pin Prick sits Tower of Babel, ran by the Fated Madame Georgiette and her fellow triplets, Madame Lisette and Madame Croquette. While the latter two will rarely make an appearance, anyone working within either network have met them once or twice. Our characters are said employees, either by force or by choice. The Tower that rolls beneath holds secrets and treachery, though it's unknown, even by The Fates manning the helm, if the label will survive pestersome questions and investgiation from the Egressian Security and Investigative Detail or if they'll see ruin to the Empire, by their own hand or others, before the ESID has even scratched the surface of Pin Prick...
introduction.
T
he End is sprouting, dissolving the spring roots into spindles that will prick Men.
“The same thing, again?”
Three bluish shadows curl their smoke around a twinkling glass bulb. It holds a gaping black mass in its midst, akin to their eyes, which are rolled back and darkened.
A knock.
“Madame Georgiette, Madame Croquette, Madame Lisette!”
The twin creatures dissolve into humanity.
“What, child?” Georgiette’s tone is callous.
The meek seamstress shrinks back from the oak crest. “Some men from the Egressian Security and Investigative Detail are here.”
The other two triplets, eyeing each other once, scurry away to the Batting, where they reside just below Madame Georgiette’s pacing feet. She straightens her blouse, her jacket. Gracefully, she rests her buttocks against the sharp edge of her desk, ignored.
“Alright. Let them through.”
° ° °
“Miss Lune,”
She holds up a pointy-tipped hand. “It’s Madame Luné or Georgie, if you’re to refer to me at all.”
The ESID agent readjusts his glasses. “Right.” He sighs. “Apologies for the intrusion but we were wondering if you’d ever heard of The Tower of Babel?”
“I’m sure everyone has. They’re all over the news.”
The agent gives a curt nod. “Yes, but do you know about their whereabouts, their members?”
“Why would I?” She scoffs, gesturing with her hand to her chest. “I’m making dresses for a living, not riots.”
“Yes, but we appear to have tracked the I.P. address of one of The Tower of Babel’s to your facilities.”
She squishes her lips to one side. “That is peculiar. Though we offer our lobby to anyone who cares to come waltzing in, so unless you mean to interrogate all of my staff, I’m afraid I might not be of much help.”
He smiles and reveals artificially sharpened teeth. It appears he hasn’t been affected by the crash, Lisette offered from below.
Metaphysically, Georgiette smacks her back. Neither have we.
Except we have all the money in the world.
Georgiette rearranges her white streaks, fallen loose from her barrette. He hands her a creamy document.
“We start interviews Monday.”
° ° °
An Excerpt from The Lazarus Alley Bulletin, 998 A.F. —
The historical Holhorse House was recently remade as the vacation jewel for all Gentry of the Empire looking to get a taste of Lazaruthian life. It’s first gaggle of tourists were easily enveloped into the Season, though even now they remain mysteries. Tragically, their lives were lost in a house fire that struck the renovated mansion. Millions were lost in profit, along with the souls of the innocent. It is unclear how the fire began, but authorities report that there is no suspect of foul play.
It appears that this is another in a string of random fires, sources say that across the entire Empire, in as populated places as Hellenic to the rural straits of Hartland, there are fires cropping up. On the notes of crops, reports of crop circle sightings have gone up, along with people being institutionalized for hallucinations of people levitating or spotting ‘black holes,’ as many intake forms call them. The Prime Minister and his staff opted to make no comment other than to tell the citizens of Egress to not give in to scare tactics employed by groups such as Pandora’s Box, the ones responsible for the Crash, or the recently active Tower of Babel.
Prime Minister Tirneas said, quote, “This is the work of those who wish to cause harm to our great nation. They wish to tempt a civil war, and it is our patriotic duty to hold steadfast in chaos’s face.”
As always, the Prime Minister is right, and it is the Bulletin’s suggestion that Lazaruthians should not allow the recent loss of our kinsmen to temper the Season’s closing celebration…
° ° °
A circlet in the sky.
It is still.
Dead?
No,
you hope it so,
But you are
foolish.
Along with the rest of your kind.
Flames lick
Rabid dogs of war.
Their teeth scream
On bone marrow.
Yours.
Where are they?
But you, foolish human,
Have no clue about what lies
Below.
A dim recollection
When you were insipid.
A seed planted from Bottom up.
Nurtured at the Batting.
Beheaded at the Top.
That’s how all you humans go.
As Fate tells it,
The End.
— Unknown; an excerpt from the tapestry hung near Madame Georgiette's desk
° ° °
The massive neon out front reads: Pin Prick House. The abode is a sore thumb amongst the black-blooded towers of Rass’s capital glen: Gholling. It is squat compared to the other skyscrapers, but it expands longer into a curved point, ending at the city block. All white, yet decorated in gleaming chemicals that glow deep into the rainy night. People pass the House on their commutes to and fro, from factory to warehouse. The people are gloomy, but the building dances onward.
Pin Prick. A fable from long ago.
What lies beneath, you wonder, eyes ascent.
Enter, Madame Georgiette beckons. Enter!
A cabaret on the inside, with a glass-laden lobby occupied by the most weary and drab of Rassians. They are guarded by the suffocating red velvet, and you are struck by how much akin to a cake the building is.
A receptionist offers sparkling or non, winking as she offers you a bit of bubbly on the side. You decline, asking to speak to the Madame. The receptionist shrivels, adjusting the string of measuring tape around her neck.
“It’s awfully late, isn’t it?”
You smile. “It’s urgent.”
She eyes your badge before disappearing into the cloisters, up the creaking stairs that fell out of fashion amongst the elite years ago. Your brows turn fuzzy at the idea that this Madame is exactly who she says she is.
You poke around, through the vaulted ceilings and the higher-than-heaven entry ways and around the stage-hand curtains. Cli-cli-cli-cli-cli-click. Through a gap, you see machines whirring and spitting fabric late into the night.
“She’s up the stairs.” You’ve unnerved her, so you offer a tempered smile.
“I’ll show myself through.”
° ° °
The agent leaves upon handing over his business card. The two Fates return.
“It appears we’ve run into an unforeseen roadblock, ladies.”
They gather around the glass ball once more. Their souls mine the split gap held within the orb’s stasis, and they read the same tethered paper:
The End is crowning, and it comes to steal its Kindred. And yours, too.
The End is born, a mass that will swallow whole.
The End will grow until you are no more.
° ° °
Pin Prick House is a strange label to most, given it's ever changing aesthetics and in-your-face displays. Their guerilla-style fashion shows, along with political displays and charity work gives the brand a hard, yet redeeming edge that many other fashion houses don't have. Started and owned by the infamous Madame Georgiette, Pin Prick House is more than just a brand – it's a lifestyle. Amidst the worst economic downfall to face Egress, they stand ready to deliver countless arrays of style for those still rich enough to afford their wares. Little do they know what lies beneath.
The elevator that no longer works is deceptive as much as it is decrepit. When the night glows with the shimmy of neon skylines, the Madame treks across the facilities into the small utilities closet, flipping the breaker back on. A ding.
Your chariot awaits!
In the recesses of Pin Prick House lies the Tower of Babel, exactly in the middle of the earth that separates what is known and unknown. It is said that ghost creep the halls of the nuclear basement, but it is just the flickering fluorescents. A labyrinth of rooms, warehouses, and studies. A library housed with illegal materials, a lab outfitted with stolen bionic limbs and medical equipment, a string of cubicles dressed in hundreds of monitors and stinging HDMI cables, etc. There are refugees that hide in the confines, squared away from Egress’s watchful eye, under the protection of Georgiette and her sister’s ever-present gaze.
What is the Tower of Babel?
A rebel group. Some might even call them the rebel group. Grown in past years, many wrongfully attribute various acts of ‘domestic terrorism,’ such as the most recent attack by the hand of Pandora’s Box. However, there are some deeds more infamous or dastardly that the public know nothing about. Not even the ears of Lazarus Alley reach far enough to hear the whispers within the Empire. Stolen test subjects. Fires casted on government buildings. The complete wipe of their entire data server. On a wider basis, people recognize the Tower of Babel for their protests, which often end in smoke and bloodshed. Recently, their projects have become less rudimentary and more exclusive, profiting off of their cover’s recent notoriety.
As a result, the Egressian Security and Investigative Detail (ESID) have taken a special interest in Madame Georgiette’s atelier. Will they find what lurks beneath? Will the Tower come crashing down?
welcome.
Howdy! Welcome to Pin Prick! This rp is based in a world not unlike our own, though it has sic-fi and fantasy elements. Our main stage is Pin Prick House, an abode akin to an antiquated industrial warehouse, residing in the center of the province Rass's Gholling, a city shrouded in overgrowth and neon. Headed by Madame Georgiette, the fashion label has only risen in notoriety over the course of the past year, and thus, anyone who is anyone appears to be employed under her name.
Yet, expectations and reality do not intertwine in the world of the Egressian Empire. While many of the employees are exactly as they seem, all have more than meets the eye. Some sprout wings, others fabled knight. Seamstresses that see the future and models who sink their teeth into pounded flesh at night. The Madame has created a safe haven for those who would otherwise fall victim to the prying watch of the Empire. However, not even the staff know what is at stake. What lies and rumbles deep beneath the soles of their feet? Madame Georgiette holds a treasure trove of mysteries, choosing what and when her pets eat.
Dig in, dig in. Found out what rolls beneath.
roles
roles.
mad hatter
I.
An in-house advertising agent and business mogul. Working closely with the Madame, many see Mad as second-in-command. Although human, their allegiance to Georgiette is awe-inspiring, even if it is backed by a loaded contract and notoriety. They are hard-at-work constructing the latest ad campaign, stuck with hours at the computer, upstairs and downstairs. Working propaganda and forgeries for Tower of Babel, Mad Hatter doubles as both Mad Man and media takeover specialist. Their hacking isn’t nearly as smooth as Pandora Box’s or 6R1M’s, but then again, isn’t that why Madame Georgiette took the fugitives in, to help her current crew? We’ll see how much the egotistical Mad enjoys said fact.
Peridot
II.
The curséd seamstress, imbued with either the blessings of the mythical angel or daemon. They are dutiful, running to and fro like a chicken with its head chopped-off. The sewing machine whirrs in their head, a guiding light. Afterall, Madame Georgiette found them, bloodsoaked, in the Rassian alleyways and lifted them off their feet, washed their body clean, and offered a home free from critique. Under her watchful eye, the bloodsucking tailor keeps their hands busy with thread during the day, and when the Tower calls, with the clack of keyboards. Adept at listening when no one thinks much of a lowly seamstress, they are chopped-full of information on all of Pin Prick’s clients, big and bigger.
Venus
III.
Succubi/Veela model and unfortunate sex symbol, popular across the Empire. Hailing from Hellenic, it is said, even by those that work within Pin Prick, that Venus put the label on the map, something that earns the Madame’s enduring favor. Of course, the Madame chose Venus very carefully, plucking them from the masses as one of the few succubi/veela to exist, particularly within the field. Why did they choose you? Madame Georgiette told the prima donna during their first meeting. Headstrong and full of secrets, Venus only remains with Pin Prick, under the Madame’s questioning gaze, due to a contract and the low-hanging threat of revealing their true nature: a killer.
Exodus
IV.
The Echo that reverberates below. Given they can only repeat what has been spoken to them most recently, connection has escaped Exodus. Furthermore, their criminal status has resulted in them being locked away below where the Tower of Babel rises. Communicating via sign language, voice-to-text bots, or simply a small chalkboard, they’ve managed to work around the lonesomeness of waiting for the world to end above. In particular, they’ve found solace in Beelzebub, a fellow unwanted resigned to working in the shadows. For the Tower, the pair work in tandem as foot soldiers. For Exodus, this includes being a fly on the wall, a spy when no one expects them to be, and a master of explosives. When asked why the Madam keeps them in the deep below, she scoffs and explains, With officers dripping from the wallpaper, you think they won’t recognize the one Echo that destroyed a fleet of their own? On the flipside, Pin Prick, they provide beautiful designs and draft patterns that fit together perfectly, much like their complex system of booby traps.
Beelzebub
V.
The origins of Beelzebub are drenched in fog, of which only the Madame can scour through, particularly because she is seen as their mother. With a ram’s horns extending from their ears, moth’s wings carefully hidden under mounds of clothes, etc., no one questions why they are held far below. Given they won’t reveal any details regarding from whence they came, Beelzebub is regarded as even quieter than their chosen other, Exodus. Yet, the mist that hangs around them is thick, suffocating, dark. To add to the smoky haze around Beelzebub, they operate as footsoldier for the Tower of Babel and weapons crafter. Making back-alley deals for guns and bullets, shrouded in a cloke, but also forging armor, fortifying the hovel basement against future attacks, and even turning metal into swords. For Pin Prick, they swap armor and swords for jewels and leather, oftentimes crafting accessories for the latest collection deep into the night, when the insomnia keeps their hands busy. Beelzebub comes from The Batting, a rarity and something regarded as an impossibility. Their background up until the past ten years will be in The Batting. Please note, for the sake of lore consistency, I might ask you to change some things upon acceptance! Please feel free to DM and I’ll explain in further depth!
Gatsby
VI.
The rebel leader out for blood, literally and figuratively. Operating within Pin Prick as a flagship model, it’s a surprise to many within Tower of Babel that Gatsby isn’t well-known for their other pursuits. As one of the Fallen 30, they operate under the Madame’s guidance in hopes of culling Egress of its gentry and nobility. Permanently changed by the experiment, it is safe to call Gatsby a person fueled by revenge, a monster of multiple proportions. Yet, they are followed without question, devising various missions, recruiting new members, sending out footsoldiers, etc. and above all, operating as Tower of Babel’s guiding light in Madame Georgiette’s wake. That is, if the Madame can keep Gatsby from revealing their true identity in the name of protest.
Nótt
VII.
The witchy designer and unfortunate conduit. On more than one occasions, Nott has attempted to pull the wool over Madame Georgiette’s eyes, casting illusions on their mockups to appear as full-fleshed out projects. While a brilliant artist with awe-inspiring muse, Nott still finds themself slow to work and quick to take shortcuts. Now, more than ever, it appears that their mind is not their own, as thought wisps of thought flow by and it is lost. Reports show that they have been disappearing at odd hours in the night, even when Babel duties call. As a fellow footsoldier and master of disguise, they are incredibly important for spying, something that takes on a double meaning when you enter the caverns of Nott’s mind. A creature unknown to The Top, known as a Grain, holds host in their body, directing it for their bidding when no one seems to be paying attention. Note: Nott is currently being possessed by a Grain known simply as Lee. As a result, there may be some elements to the character that may need to change to fit the lore better upon acceptance!
Ramiel
TAKEN.
A building fell to pieces with crumbles and exposed wires. Crackling and stinging, attempting to undo the world beyond itself, Ramiel rose from the smoke and gunmetal. A harsh glance, a snicker through the clicking of teeth. The fire of revenge consumed him, and through the ash sparkled wings-a-feather, far away from the antiquity and elegance of home. How will she fare as a fish out of water?
CLEIO
TAKEN.
The Oracle. A politician’s son, a rather public figure due to a career as a pianist and a published memoir, a charming and well kept young man, Xander looks like the perfect son of Egressian wealth, and in many ways, he is not much more than a product of it. With a recent loss of identity, [/i]questions tempt the tongue as to how the prodigal son will keep himself hidden[/i], now that he is the source of public ire instead of perfection.
Verona
TAKEN.
Known for his wits and natural charisma, Ellis not only earns the charm of his contenders, but outsmarts them, too. While his trickery is impressive, his laughter has never been more genuine around a friend. The one who taught the Pandora hackers all they know, but it appears all that has come to a close. With friendship facing rough seas and the abandonment of their homes, their families, fair Verona, what will you do when the world offers endless possibilities and your wings have finally been set free?
Abipsa
TAKEN.
A born leader that doesn't know when to stop squeezing. Believe her, had she a large enough knife, she'd bleed out all of Egress. It was only a handful of months ago that Ursula led her team of bounty hunters into the heart of the Empire, right there on Lazarus Alley. It all ended up in smoke, finding herself at the eye of the hurricane. Fortune befalls her team, making the mission come clean in the wash, but still, she is now lost. [/i]Lost, yet in her palms rests the cord that could collapse the Empire.[/i]
Darcy
TAKEN.
AUDIO EVALUATION #1: “Subject is brilliant, albeit, self-taught but highly skilled. They will often pursue high-profile targets such as political figures and businessmen; exposing sensitive information and damning evidence. The subject uses crude language and humor, but is intelligent and well-versed in demolitions, engineering and programming. The subject is considered dangerous.” 6R1M, known as Darcy, known as Arden, hides so well, lining the fox-hole. Yet, she has been ousted, left vulnerable, and any one who knows the hunter-hacker well enough wonders how will Darc take to living underground?
Raven
TAKEN.
When she holds on, she holds on perhaps a little too tight. No one had ever really wanted her in her life, so, when the government did, she felt in no position to deny them. When the scientists were done with her, Erethea was bereft once more... but they left her with something. Something terrible. And now, with this terrible heft of hers, she lives life as a bounty hunter, walking the lines between good and evil. Orphan and adult. Human and something less... or more. What will Raven do when the world beckons her, calls her to its aide in the form of a fashion line?
rules
rules.
rule one.
all rpn rules apply. dark themes are applicable, of course, but no nsfw sexual content. 17+, please, for other rpers' comfort and due to the nature of this rp.
rule two.
realistic faceclaims or a physical description! whichever best fits your jam!
rule three.
discord is key as this will be where ooc happens!
i doubt this needs to be said, but keep the drama to the characters! bigotry of any kind will not be tolerated, along with any form of godmodding or bullying. rp is meant to be fun, so let's not get in the way of that (;
rule four.
i doubt this needs to be said, but keep the drama to the characters! bigotry of any kind will not be tolerated, along with any form of godmodding or bullying. rp is meant to be fun, so let's not get in the way of that (;
rule five.
i cannot express this enough, but please do not join the rp if you're not up for the committement! this is a character-driven rp, as muhc as there is a fuck-ton of lore. that means, we all need to collaborate and post.
rule six.
lastly, credit of the descriptions of the taken characters given to
miyabi
,
mother of sorrows
,
livingdead
,
ravensunset
,
blue-jay
intro
roles
rules
Pin Prick
don't waste the
lipgloss
genre
sci-fi, mild horror, fantasy, fashion rp ?
status
accepting
spots open
7/13
♡coded by uxie♡
Last edited:
thank you ahhh
. Also I uh wanted to message you but I forgot your discord. 
