The Hosts

[realitymods]

★ The Hosts The people who maintain the Machine and this experiment are all mod characters. Some are helpful, some are misguided, some are cruel, and some are dancing to a higher power's tune. While they can change and may appear with varying frequency, there are some constant influences. ★ The Shop The shop is a quaint wooden cottage that happens to be perhaps a bit futuristic on the inside. It's run by Jhil and Roen and the double jokers on the gaudy sign make it hard to miss. They're all too happy to sell characters the things they need - even information - for the right price. Can they afford their prices? That depends on what they have to lose. On the plus side, their employer wants them to hire new employees. As long as those employees don't try to get into the back room, behind the purple curtain... Oh, and don't even try to attack them. The door has a trigger to detect harmful intent, and you really don't want it to go off. Though NPCs can see the shop, whenever they try the door, it is locked. They may, if they are lucky, catch a fleeting image of them in the window, but they won't be allowed in. Regardless of what they try to use - magic, technology, or explosions - they will not be able to get into the shop. The door will open only when player characters are alone (or alone with other player characters). ★ Main Hosts Wolf ☆ Unlike Derogative, Wolfgang Albrecht is actually a completely normal human. Well, mostly. Hailing from a world where dimensional paradoxes are common, he searches for a way to save his home before it succumbs to instability and is swallowed forever. Though he dresses and sounds like he's from Britain, he'll be the first to tell you that he has no idea what Britain is. Clumsy, well-meaning and earnest, he's a departure from the old manipulators of the Plane and he's in a class of his own. Like you, he's desperate for answers and unutterably alone. Wolf might be the only friend you have. Recently he's acquired something of a following, and is one of two powers vying for control of the Machine. Jhil ☆ Somewhat mysterious to lay eyes on, she's a woman with long red hair and two distinctive black horns curling back around her ears. She dresses in dark armor made of leather and mail even though she spends all her time working in the shop. She has a sharp tongue and is somewhat cranky, but if you want information, she's got it. Roen ☆ A short man with chin-length black hair and two small black horns that curve forward slightly. He dresses in gray cloth armor embroidered with gold thread in various patterns. Unlike his cousin Jhil, he's generally very hospitable, if not a bit nervous. Da Tian ☆ Wolf's former doctor and friend turned traitor. He is tall and striking, hawkish features and black hair braided down his back, as well as yellow eyes. He raised the 'angels' and released them on people just to see what would happen. Shaman ☆ A little girl who works on the Machine. She dresses like a butterfly cocoon and talks in riddles, much like Meredith before her. It's rumored that she is actually upwards of a thousand years old. ★ Former Hosts These people no longer can be contacted, but their info is here for reference. Raymond ☆ Raymond Keys works for a man named Jed, and that's all he has to offer on that situation. He looks stunningly average, brown hair, brown eyes, average height, dressed in greys and like he can't decide between business or casual. His stature and appearance always seem like he's just barely tolerating being there. And when he says you make him sick, he means it. He comes from a long line of people with the ability to sense the inhuman, but no one has ever had it as strong as him. He has no problems treating you with utter contempt and disgust, but will at least play at being nice to get his job done. Jacob ☆ Jacob Kross seems to be a normal sort of guy; a bit of a jock who is into cars. Short blond hair and an average height, frequently dressed in jeans and t-shirts. He has a friendly demeanor seems to mean well- just don't mention keys around him. Oh, did he mention it yet? He's looking for a key. A specific key. It's very important. If you happen to find it, please, he needs it. Rita ☆ Rita Blake is clearly more refined than her boyfriend. Black business suits and classy, serious glasses are her attire of choice, and her long black hair practically blends in with them. She's a bit odd though, in her way. She always seems familiar to men- she always reminds them of someone they've met before.... Maybe in a dream? 'Grey'/Charlie ☆ Dead. As it turned out, he was host to something quite terrible. Who knew? Derogative ☆ Derogative is an insufferably cheery, usually asleep, new addition. When dealing with most humanoid beings, he tends to take on a human form; a man in his early forties with short, messy brown hair, bright green eyes, and usually dressed in jeans and a black leather jacket. Though when in the shop, he tends to prefer his natural form: a giant canine-like animal with a golden ankh on his chest. Most of the time he does odd jobs for whoever needs him for anything, he takes his role as Guardian seriously, but it would be best for everyone if he just remains as doofy and scatterbrained as he allows himself to seem. The Twins ☆ The Twins are comprised of a girl and a boy - Lapis and Lazuli respectively - who look shockingly young and like perfect, pale porcelain dolls. Everything about them is sheet white and neat, wearing old-fashioned clothes, cropped hair and generally seeming quite delicate if not rather unsettling. Don't be fooled. The Twins are sly, amoral business types. Everything has a price and nothing is sacred. They appear to have ties to everything corrupt - the mafia, crooked cops, etc - as well as everything good - heroes, orphanages, whatever - and keep their cards close. People tend to end up in debt to them but if you have what they want, they might just be your best friends. Also, they have a creepy tendency to talk in unison, as if they share a mind. The only way to tell them apart is Lapis's slightly higher voice and the fact that they each wear a braid but on different sides of their heads. (Lapis wears hers on the right, Lazuli's on the left). If you listen closely when they move, the sound of gears can be heard. Roe ☆ Not much is known about this woman. She fixed the Machine after it crashed from misuse, then disappeared. She seems to be irritable, because she very much is. Recently she has appeared again in glee at character suffering and annoyance that they were getting a vacation. She's a bundle of joy. Meredith ☆ Meredith Sault represents what she simply refers to as 'the Order.' It has a real name, but she doesn't think that you need to hear it. There's something distinctly eerie in her mannerisms, from the distant voice to the fluidity of her movements. Her robes hide her eyes in shadow, but her lips, often curled in amusement, are always visible. Meredith is not your friend, but she is not your enemy, either. She will not be bought, coerced, convinced, or made to care, for she values little and considers everything to be transient. She will not attempt to trick you, but she often speaks vaguely - or else callously offers shattering information, a small smile the only hint at her reason for doing so. Laith ☆ Dead. Laith Kolter seemed like the usual harmless research slave right up until she showed her true cards as a master manipulator. Notable for controlling a long-term peaceful Plane resident into slaughtering half a dozen people and hampering the investigation. Ruthless, unfeeling, and willing to put her own life on the line for the sake of making a new world, Laith took the secrets of the Machine to her grave. ★ Contact A Host In this post, you can ICly contact a mod character. You should leave a comment of whatever your character is doing to get attention - going into the shop and so on - as you would with normal tagging. If you have a preference for what character you get, give their name in the subject line. For the purposes of this post, the characters that can be contacted at any point are Wolfgang and Jhil. However, if you do not specify which character you want, you may receive messages from others involved in the workings of the Machine.

OOC Info ★Summary ★Communities ★Rules ★Suggestions ★Contact ★Advertisement

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Comments

[grip_on_reality]

[Menzies calls up the number for Ray that Satoshi gave her and waits in the hope that someone will pick up]

[unseensense.livejournal.com]

[The phone rings once and is answered immediately. The voice on the other end sounds hostile. American. From Chicago.]

Who is this?

[grip_on_reality]

Ah, an American! I've always heard you're a...pleasant...sort. I can tell from your warm greeting.

DI Patricia Menzies, since you asked politely. I've been told you might have some information I need. Have you got a name?

[unseensense.livejournal.com]

[He still sounds unpleasant and on edge.]

Cut the shit, 'Patricia'. If that is your name. This is my private cell number. Nobody except Sergei has it and-

[There's the sound of ruffling papers, he's going through something.]

Wait, let me guess, you're one of the fucking freaks in that god awful machine. Jed went and figured, hey, let's go pass Ray's number out again. He could use a social life! [He sniffs derisively.] You can tell him I said he can go fuck himself, alright? I don't want him giving my number to you people.

[grip_on_reality]

[she's not in the mood for pulling any punches either. you're the only lead she's got]

Menzies is my name, actually. [you are definitely not on first-name terms yet] And I don't know this Jed bloke, but I do know we've got some eerie graffiti showing up in our homes that may or may not have something to do with you. Now, are you going to tell me what you know, or should I pass your number around and let others have a go at this conversation, too?

[unseensense.livejournal.com]

Sorry, Pattie, I'm not a graffiti type.

[He immediately hangs up in an attempt to get the last word. You can call him back, and if so, assume he answers immediately because he will.]

[grip_on_reality]

[she sighs, rolling her eyes. men, honestly. but, since he made it very clear that he doesn't like to be bothered, her next step is obvious: make a nuisance of herself. she's not letting this lead go that easily. so yes, she's calling you back now]

[unseensense.livejournal.com]

[He does, indeed, answer.]

I'm going to smash this phone with a hammer. And you, Pattie, will owe me a new phone.

[grip_on_reality]

[with mock surprise] Oh good, you know who I am! That saves us both some time.

You know what you could do instead? Answer my questions so you can go on your merry way, and neither of us has to put up with the other anymore. That would make you happy, wouldn't it now?

[unseensense.livejournal.com]

You know, sounds like you should just call a fucking cleaner or painter. You know, like a normal person does when faced with vandalism.

[grip_on_reality]

You know, that's a great idea! Know any cleaners or painters who can jump to different worlds so they can get to it all? Or who can clean up graffiti on a building partially merged between worlds? 'Cause if you do, give me the number, and I'll leave you alone.

[unseensense.livejournal.com]

Get a phone book if you're so desperate for the number of a painter.

[He hangs up again. You're gonna be playing phone tag, it seems.]

[grip_on_reality]

[she just rolls her eyes and dials him back up. in fact, she starts talking as soon as she hears the click to indicate he's picked up] Ready to start explaining multi-world graffiti yet?

[unseensense.livejournal.com]

Stop calling me. [He growls his words.] Believe me, if I could call the police on your ass, I would charge you with harassment.

[He hangs up again.]

[grip_on_reality]

[she calmly dials again, but she's done with pleasantries. her tone is very brusque this time] Tell me what you know. I could do this all day.

[unseensense.livejournal.com]

Raymond Keys' phone, please hold.

[He holds the phone up to a speaker, and music (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7wSefU2H9Q) begins to play. As soon as the song is over, he hangs up.]

[grip_on_reality]

[she sighs, rolling her eyes, and dials again, waiting for him to pick up this time]

[unseensense.livejournal.com]

Look. Lady. I'm fucking busy. Too busy for whatever mundane shit is going on with you.

[He huffs and leans back in his chair.]

Because you know, between 'oh fucking teenager tagged my white picket fence' and 'dead body found', I'm gonna side with the dead lady, alright? You want I should drop her to go focus on your stupid shit? You want her? You can fucking have her! You can tell her she's dead instead. And I'll go paint your fucking fence back to its pristine white.

[grip_on_reality]

[Menzies is not that easily deterred, although inwardly she understands his frustration a bit more now]

I didn't realise "tell me anything you already know about it" was that time-consuming--unless you know a lot about it, of course.

[she raises an eyebrow] So you talk to dead people?

[unseensense.livejournal.com]

It's time consuming to me and my- clients.

[In his house, at his personal desk, he twists a pen in his hand.]

Anyway, no, I don't. It's the other way around. The dead talk to me. Which is a really simple fucking way to put it, since usually it isn't a nice pleasant little chat. More like possession, bodily manifestations, messages scrawled on my walls in blood because I'm not listening, my things smashed and ruined...

[grip_on_reality]

[sweetly, though her last words are sharp] Then let's just pretend you didn't waste all that time not answering my question--and cut to the chase.

Sounds like hell. [the comment is somewhat offhanded, but she does mean it. that brings up another question, though] Do they ever write in paint?

[unseensense.livejournal.com]

No, and like I said, if you have a graffiti problem, go buy some fucking paint.

[grip_on_reality]

You know, there's a problem with that. Covering up graffiti's one thing--doing something about the message behind it? Not exactly the sort of thing you can do with paint. And somebody went to an awful lot of trouble to send us messages across universes. Rumour has it it's like something you did once--with some cards.

[unseensense.livejournal.com]

I have no fucking clue what you're talking about. And that isn't sarcasm; I have no fucking clue what you're talking about, Pattie. What, were they fucking greeting cards? Maybe Hallmark Get Well Cards, you know, with a saccharine sweet message and a pink kitten on the cover?

[grip_on_reality]

[reading her notes from her conversation with Satoshi] Oh yeah, "The children will play." "Stay calm." "Dare you, dare you, double dare." "Must not sleep. Must warn others." Definitely greeting cards. I know those are just the sort of messages I want to find in the post when I'm having a bad day.