Cthulhu_Wakes
Black Sun in a White World
It's that time again. Interest check!
Before the summaries come up just a quick notice: If you guys could, so I don't waste anyone's time, if you feel the pluck of interest just throw out a game (Exalted or WoD) and a quick summary of any character idea that strikes you. Figure that'll keep the confusion down and such.
I know I've got a few votes going either way right now, but eh. We'll bring this up for pleasant election.
Exalted: Winter seas are darker than the pit of Neckeshian peaches, the old proverb goes. Winter has come to the Sea of Seas and the tropics have felt the sea breeze stronger than before. The Sorrow Okeanos is performed in all its cultural permutations in all the island-states and nations of the Sea save the Realm's puppet Wavecrest and its corral shell necklace of tributaries and in the shadowed lands of Onyx. A time of quiet contemplation and seasonal recovery for the great nations from a ranging season of heavy pirating. The dice roll, slaves traded, offerings made to sea, volcano and sky.
Embassies of peace, token in nature, but treated with the greatest sincerity, roam the seas in white carracks.
Our stage: The veiled port of Crescent, one of the more cosmopolitan ports of Wavecrest. Situated on the island of Halcyon, the jewel of Wavecrest, the port is as breathtaking as the island-mother it calls home. Lush, exotic, teeming with life, the volcanoes of Halcyon are slumbering and the natives hard in line with tradition, but tolerant of outsiders.
Our actors: A small party of Solar and Lunar Exalted drawn to the islands of the West through mysterious, amorphous dreams, of which nothing can be deciphered save a singular voice whispering, "My children. Send me my children."
Our connection: The actors of this little play shall not be a Circle per se, not in the beginning (lest the players finally chosen do want it), but you will know one another. Introductions take up too much time, so I'd much prefer that characters know one another. Relationships and friendships and rivalries between characters are your business.
World of Darkness: New England is among the oldest settled land of European men and their descendants in North America. History has turned upon its axis before and many old and ancient peoples have been scoured from it with fire and knife and shouting gun. Old Gods once walked here before the coming of Christ's children. The old towns lying on the banks of the Miskatonic have seen much history and many dark secrets seep beneath her banks. Arkham, Ipswich, Kingsport, Salem, Innsmouth, all with storied and sordid histories. With the Europeans came their own Old Gods and religions: walkers of night, howlers of moon, slaves of storied-lantern-men, men of an inconceivable wisdom.
Fall in New England. October. A gorgeous painting setting the background of even crowded Massachusetts. The skittering of leaves 'cross the pavement. Will-'o-the-wisp flaring, dying over panes of blackened lakes. Old wives tales of witches, Salem, stone piles of insidious nature, burial grounds, South Jersey, all the old spook stories come up in classrooms across the state. Professors at Roanton and Miskatonic Universities laugh and ruefully shake their heads. Old wives tales, they say, and cast wary eyes at the ground, their sealed archives deep in basement levels.
Something Old is waking. And the societies of day and night walk on unaware.
Our stage: Roanton, Massachusetts. Austere, old, a picturesque town nestled in the downlands toward the sea between Gloucester and Manchester. Sitting on a perfectly formed harbor, the deep waters of Roanton are still a humming center of industry and trade. The town proper a sprawling maze of history and culture. It harbors one of the oldest universities in the country, Roanton University, and the remnants of one of the first, Roan Pike Bible College, deep in the hills.
There is an oldness to Roanton, still situated on four main streets, the old downtown district, housing its monolithic town hall, is called the Maze. Walking in and taking a seemingly innocuous turn will find you lost for hours at a time. Hours pleasantly spent looking through the windows of dozens of dusty shops, still open for business, looking ripped from the '20s, '30s, and '40s, yet filled with modern goods. It bustles for nine months of the year as the college swells the population over sixty thousand.
Age, however, isn't always kind, giving birth to the Drears, a repugnant chancre crowding in the shadows of the Maze. The other side of the train tracks. A swath of the town that burned during the Great Fire of '22, that was barely repaired and soon forgotten for the strange order of the current downtown. The division between have and have not is jarring passing into the Drears, but few people do. It is forgotten and forgotten things fester instead of go away.
Something Old is waking.
Our actors: Either a coterie of Vampires or simply a group of mortals, this tale is easily set for either group.
- As Vampires, our actors are newly Embraced childer of five prominent Vampires within the primary Covenants save the Order of the Crone, they are anathema in Roanton and are kept in the dark woods surrounding the city. Nomads are welcome, and the childer of the First Estate and the Lancea are offered due respect, but little true power save what they earn in thrift and industry in this jointly ruled Carthian and Ordo dominion.
- As Mortals, our actors are everyday folk brought together through a series of strange and unnatural circumstances occurring in rapid succession during the weeks prior to Halloween. P.I.s, college students, cops, librarians, researchers, all the classical concepts of Lovecraftian fiction are more than welcome, along with modern professions and people.
Our connection: Preferable that some of you know each other, not ruled for everyone.
So! There they are folks. Please, if you're at all interested, throw up a vote for whichever game and if you've got an idea just throw a summary at me. Short and sweet. Thanks!
Before the summaries come up just a quick notice: If you guys could, so I don't waste anyone's time, if you feel the pluck of interest just throw out a game (Exalted or WoD) and a quick summary of any character idea that strikes you. Figure that'll keep the confusion down and such.
I know I've got a few votes going either way right now, but eh. We'll bring this up for pleasant election.
Exalted: Winter seas are darker than the pit of Neckeshian peaches, the old proverb goes. Winter has come to the Sea of Seas and the tropics have felt the sea breeze stronger than before. The Sorrow Okeanos is performed in all its cultural permutations in all the island-states and nations of the Sea save the Realm's puppet Wavecrest and its corral shell necklace of tributaries and in the shadowed lands of Onyx. A time of quiet contemplation and seasonal recovery for the great nations from a ranging season of heavy pirating. The dice roll, slaves traded, offerings made to sea, volcano and sky.
Embassies of peace, token in nature, but treated with the greatest sincerity, roam the seas in white carracks.
Our stage: The veiled port of Crescent, one of the more cosmopolitan ports of Wavecrest. Situated on the island of Halcyon, the jewel of Wavecrest, the port is as breathtaking as the island-mother it calls home. Lush, exotic, teeming with life, the volcanoes of Halcyon are slumbering and the natives hard in line with tradition, but tolerant of outsiders.
Our actors: A small party of Solar and Lunar Exalted drawn to the islands of the West through mysterious, amorphous dreams, of which nothing can be deciphered save a singular voice whispering, "My children. Send me my children."
Our connection: The actors of this little play shall not be a Circle per se, not in the beginning (lest the players finally chosen do want it), but you will know one another. Introductions take up too much time, so I'd much prefer that characters know one another. Relationships and friendships and rivalries between characters are your business.
World of Darkness: New England is among the oldest settled land of European men and their descendants in North America. History has turned upon its axis before and many old and ancient peoples have been scoured from it with fire and knife and shouting gun. Old Gods once walked here before the coming of Christ's children. The old towns lying on the banks of the Miskatonic have seen much history and many dark secrets seep beneath her banks. Arkham, Ipswich, Kingsport, Salem, Innsmouth, all with storied and sordid histories. With the Europeans came their own Old Gods and religions: walkers of night, howlers of moon, slaves of storied-lantern-men, men of an inconceivable wisdom.
Fall in New England. October. A gorgeous painting setting the background of even crowded Massachusetts. The skittering of leaves 'cross the pavement. Will-'o-the-wisp flaring, dying over panes of blackened lakes. Old wives tales of witches, Salem, stone piles of insidious nature, burial grounds, South Jersey, all the old spook stories come up in classrooms across the state. Professors at Roanton and Miskatonic Universities laugh and ruefully shake their heads. Old wives tales, they say, and cast wary eyes at the ground, their sealed archives deep in basement levels.
Something Old is waking. And the societies of day and night walk on unaware.
Our stage: Roanton, Massachusetts. Austere, old, a picturesque town nestled in the downlands toward the sea between Gloucester and Manchester. Sitting on a perfectly formed harbor, the deep waters of Roanton are still a humming center of industry and trade. The town proper a sprawling maze of history and culture. It harbors one of the oldest universities in the country, Roanton University, and the remnants of one of the first, Roan Pike Bible College, deep in the hills.
There is an oldness to Roanton, still situated on four main streets, the old downtown district, housing its monolithic town hall, is called the Maze. Walking in and taking a seemingly innocuous turn will find you lost for hours at a time. Hours pleasantly spent looking through the windows of dozens of dusty shops, still open for business, looking ripped from the '20s, '30s, and '40s, yet filled with modern goods. It bustles for nine months of the year as the college swells the population over sixty thousand.
Age, however, isn't always kind, giving birth to the Drears, a repugnant chancre crowding in the shadows of the Maze. The other side of the train tracks. A swath of the town that burned during the Great Fire of '22, that was barely repaired and soon forgotten for the strange order of the current downtown. The division between have and have not is jarring passing into the Drears, but few people do. It is forgotten and forgotten things fester instead of go away.
Something Old is waking.
Our actors: Either a coterie of Vampires or simply a group of mortals, this tale is easily set for either group.
- As Vampires, our actors are newly Embraced childer of five prominent Vampires within the primary Covenants save the Order of the Crone, they are anathema in Roanton and are kept in the dark woods surrounding the city. Nomads are welcome, and the childer of the First Estate and the Lancea are offered due respect, but little true power save what they earn in thrift and industry in this jointly ruled Carthian and Ordo dominion.
- As Mortals, our actors are everyday folk brought together through a series of strange and unnatural circumstances occurring in rapid succession during the weeks prior to Halloween. P.I.s, college students, cops, librarians, researchers, all the classical concepts of Lovecraftian fiction are more than welcome, along with modern professions and people.
Our connection: Preferable that some of you know each other, not ruled for everyone.
So! There they are folks. Please, if you're at all interested, throw up a vote for whichever game and if you've got an idea just throw a summary at me. Short and sweet. Thanks!
perhaps another time. I now return to my regularly scheduled staying-away-for-a-while.
