Realistic or Modern The Devil's Playground [Character Thread]

[RedLeftHand36]

Boo


Behold, I was shapen in iniquity; and in sin did my mother conceive me.

-Psalm 51:5

Prohibition era New Orleans and the surrounding land can be quite the dangerous place. From thugs in alley streets to corrupt officials, rambling maniacs to puritanical lawmen, heroes of the lower class to cult leaders, it is a place of opportunity and treachery. The Big Easy is home to a myriad of prominent figures and equally notorious factions.

Who are you?

Factions

The Underground

Bootleggers, crime lords, thieves and thugs. Most criminals belong to some fashion of syndicate, and the Underground refers to each and every one of these sorts of factions, as well as those certain individuals who so willingly cooperate with such groups. It's not hard to find a hive of the lawless within the various speakeasies that line the streets, and it's not uncommon for rigged horseraces at the Fair Grounds Race Course. Perhaps you're a fresh face from the Atlanta city. Perhaps you're someone down on their luck with a talent for violence. Perhaps you've lived and breathed New Orleans your entire life, and, ambitious as you are, have vied for control of the city. There's certainly no shortage of opportunity for any such figures.

The Long Arm of the Law

From Prohibition agents, to uncorrupt policemen, to private investigators with a strong sense of justice, New Orleans is certainly not the easiest place to remain an honest person. But it's not impossible. To remain on the straight and narrow path is certainly a feat in such a setting, and can be the most satisfying thing, or the most tiring thing of all. Rewarding as it can be, if the lure of power doesn't tempt you to be swayed, the likelihood of being shot in your sleep certainly might. It's a path only for the brave, stupidly naive, or insufferably self-righteous. There is one more thing to beware, however. Being on the side of the law doesn't necessarily make a someone a good person.

The Unknown

Crime and Law have, for long time, been at odds, often between themselves. But every once in a while, a new factor emerges, and the result can be quite surreal. Long has various spiritual practices such as voodoo been associated with New Orleans, often disparigingly conflated with fantastical dark magicks, but recently have truly omnious mystics have entered the scene. From shadowy villains utilizing dark perversions of the aesthetics of local religions, to heroes of the lowest classes using strange and newfound powers to make their people's lives better, these sorts of people dot all across the scale of good and evil. How dangerous can they be? How much good can they achieve?

Witch Hunters

Secrecy. Shadows. Ugly persistence and hatred. This mysterious sect of federal lawmen would make anyone wonder what in the history of the United States inspired the creation of these puritanical zealots as an official body under the government, especially as any sane person would believe witch hunters to be some archaic niche of medieval tendencies, certainly not something acceptable in modern society where anyone with half a brain could tell you witches weren't real. Or are they?

The Tarot

Perhaps on equal footing with the Witch Hunters in terms of secrecy and working in the shadows, the small number of individuals that make up the little known group calling themselves the Tarot have become infamous among the Underworld powerhouses of New Orleans, offering their services for a price. They always deliver, and are known for moving heavens and earth with ease for those who seek power, but their price, which always seems like a very favourable deal for those who seek the Tarot, often begets stories that make them the most feared individuals in New Orleans.

The Tarot is not a group just anyone can join. Please message me, especially as I only want particularly reliable RPers for the Tarot. Those who wish to join must work with me and others who would like to make Tarot Characters in order to ensure suitability, so I highly recommend having Discord at the ready. Especially since Tarot character sheets will be a little different.

There are no set character sheets beyond the following basic information that will be required. Please use real or realistic images to go with appearance. Other than that, let your creativity loose. Feel free to add whatever to the skeleton sheet, if you'd like. Accepted characters will eventually be messaged with a link to the Discord server.

Spoiler: Character Sheet

Name:

Date of Birth: [Current Date ICly is October 1st, 1928]

Occupation: [Include any criminal prevelence here]

Appearance:

Practices: [magical schtick here; Think of it as where your magical schtick comes from. Runes? Sure. Blood rituals? Sure. Scrying? That, too. If you're going for something along of lines of 'some minor demon gave me cool power', come up with a form of ritualism (the aforemention blood ritual works) and just mention your bond with said demon.]

Gifts: [also magical schtick; don't get too silly with it, I'm certainly not going to accept anything OP. It's worth mentioning that magic here isn't anything like something out of D&D or Harry Potter or whatever. It's not too flashy. Think American Horror Story: Coven, or maybe if like stunts in real life claiming to be magical were actually magical. Or like something from an A24 film.]

Character: [personality; at least one paragraph]

Background: [backstory; A couple of paragraphs at least. And not those ones that are like three sentences, either. Don't skimp out on detailing for this part, nor the 'character' aspect of the sheet. The more detailed, the more likely you'll be accepted.]

Misc: [You can put stuff like likes, dislikes, hobbies, theme music, etc., here]

 

[Valen]

Persona

Name: Gabriel Dámaso

Date of Birth: Unknown

Occupation: University Professor of History

Appearance: Caucasian with light sun-kissed skin. Dark black hair and seemingly warm and comforting brown hues. A genuine smile greeting most of those he interacts with, that perfect masks so much about the mysterious man. His attire is usually lighter and either professionally fitting for his teaching position or more modest during his more carefree and philanthropic pursuits.

Veil: Gabriel hosts a welcoming exterior and wisdom beyond his years. A locally renowned figure through his consistent acts of generosity and selflessness. Known for his helpful nature and valued advice, the man has many positive relationships with those of New Orleans. Having even led many to improve their lives for the better, leading away from addictions, temptations, and other vices. To imagine Gabriel as anything beyond his presented self to many is simply unimaginable.

Act: An educated man of history and involved in the church. While Gabriel has been known to travel for long periods of time on occasion, he has an established position as head of the History Department at Tulane University, often teaching personally although not usually even fully completing a semester as the only instructor. Beyond that, he is clearly well developed in terms of his finances made evident from his many donations around the city.

Anima

Arcana: XIII

True Face: Tarot Mask. Besides this mask, Gabriel's attire similar in make but of a much darker palette. Any welcoming guise to his appearance all but erased and replaced with a much darker, cold, and merciless figure. His approach and movements holding much more authority and forceful.

True Self: Gabriel's true self is still vastly unknown behind more than a lifetime of events that have shaped him to this moment. But what is clear is he is a man of confidence, holding himself nearly like a force of nature when carrying out the will of his boss. Relishing the power he wields no matter who he is hunting or 'correcting', be it those of the supernatural sphere or the lawmen he is all too familiar with escaping or slaying. There is little negotiation when the mask comes into play and he is to play his role as an enforcer should you find yourself as his quarry. Cunning, charismatic, manipulative, perceptive to a near inhuman degree. Lacking in near any of the traits of the Professor or Philanthropist he is known to be. But somewhere within whatever remains of a soul for this man lies a rage that only comes to be released during his pursuits as one of the Tarot.

Boon: Gifted with a more direct and physically affecting supernatural power, Gabriel's will is able to manifest around him in many forms, commonly labeled as 'Telekenesis', this member of the Tarot has a distinct control over his surroundings. Moving and launching objects with ease, manipulating anything on a range from bullets to people themselves. While nearly no one alive knows the truth of his abilities, witnesses have told stories of bullets weaving harmlessly out of his direction, their friends collapsing dead in his presence, limbs twisting unnaturally, and far more sinister scenes rumored throughout the underworld. All in all his abilities seem to be extremely potent against those untouched by the supernatural world. His powers however naturally have their limits. Requiring focus, precision, and in the end more potent when manipulating objects or ignorant mundane souls rather than their supernatural counterparts.

Included with this gift are other talents such as a keen perception of his immediate surroundings. The ability to sense potent supernatural auras and resist divining abilities that try to read or track him all thanks to the dark blessings of his dark provider.

Story: Much of the truth behind the man known as Gabriel has been lost for many years. Former lives stolen and forced beneath blankets of darkness and behind the vault of whatever remains of the man's heart. His story began like that of loss and betrayal which led him instead to follow a path where he could reach the justice he sought the world to bring towards the wicked and cruel. While his definitions of what constitutes these traits have been touched....corrupted even, he remains nonetheless. This member of the Tarot is rarely seen making deals himself but It is not out of the question. His main purpose is acting as a sort of enforcer, a boogeyman, a correctional authority on the affairs of the Underworld. Known to hunt down those who directly disrupt his bosses matters or have gone back on deals of importance. While few have seen him or would be able to identify him (not that any would be willing to do so), all can attest that once he is to pay you a visit, your life is in his hands. No amount of men, arms, mortal, or even supernatural means has yet been able to stop him from reaching his marks. Thus building a degree of legend and myth, keeping the criminals in line just enough to his liking.

As for the details of what began creating such a man, such a creature, that remains lost in fragments of the city should any still remain. Perhaps something that has continued to pull him back here outside of traditional business. The witchhunters have a long-standing history with this particular Tarot member. Being of one of the highest priority targets within their organization. Unfortunately, they have gone months or even years on certain streaks without the success of locating him or even worse being so ill-prepared to encounter him and becoming yet another victim. Strangely many witchhunters within the organization have taken personal vendettas against him, only to find the amount of information offered to them by their upper counsels to be less than fruitful...withheld and classified even.

In the end, he has existed so well in the shadows thus far. But he must still be a man...a mortal...a physical being in some way, right? While many believe he himself maybe some sort of demon that made way to walking the earth, the rest of the supernatural community shun the far more fearful alternative that something else has bestowed these powers upon him and is meddling in the affairs of the world far too freely. What sort of being would this have to be, crafting a shadow.

As for how the world sees Gabriel Dámaso outside of the underworld, he at first was nearly just a new wealthy individual close to a decade past who seemed to appreciate history and the arts. Making quick relations with the university as well as the local community. It took little time for himself to buy a lavish home that was equal part intimidating in stature as it was a unique beautiful structure. He seemed to have an attachment to it as it was rumored he had bought the home straight away from the previous owner out from under him. From there he was seen getting immediately involved in the community, donations to hospitals, museums, charities, homeless shelters and programs all with no visible return to him. With this in mind many have asked just how far does his connections and sense of selflessness run? Being active even in the local church when he has time to spare in his all too busy life it is as he is a member of every family in New Orleans where no one bats an eye. Teaching at the University and quickly becoming the head of the History Department is only another means of how he benefits the city and its inhabitants. While he is at times difficult to reach, he is seen often at Tulane or the local speakeasy enjoying a nearly routine occasion of coffee and beignets.

 

[Teltex]

(There’s a hidden tab so scroll down on the image)

TOM JONES
TOM JONES
TOM JONES

TOM JONES

TOM JONES
TOM JONES
TOM JONES

NAME: Thomas Jones
DATE OF BIRTH: May 5th, 1902
OCCUPATION: Private Eye


APPEARANCE: The standard private-eye get-up, fedora included. Caucasian, with brown hair and eyes. No scars, so he looks younger than he is, but it's nothing the streets of New Orleans won't fix.

PRACTICES: Though he can't do it on command, Tom has on occasion (through a combination of drugs, meditation, intense study and dreaming) been able to communicate with otherworldly entities. In these sessions he can try and gain information (though is usually rebuffed), and in one instance was able to make a contract for a small part of his soul. Details below.

GIFTS: The only thing that kept Tom from dismissing his demonic interactions as hallucinations was the contract he made, which gives him the ability to perfectly tell a truthful statement from a lie. This works with both written and visual mediums. If a statement is false but the person saying it genuinely believes it to be true, it will register to Tom as true. The downside of this is that Tom himself is incapable of knowingly telling a lie.

CHARACTER: Tom likes to pry into things, asking questions he shouldn't ask and going places he shouldn't be. It's a habit that'll get him killed, but he can usually weasel his way out of things. His habit of fast-talking himself out of his issues dropped quick after he couldn't lie. He's not an immoral person, and has a keen sense of justice, but honesty will only get you so far in New Orleans. He hasn't spent enough time in the field to be hard-boiled, he's not gruff, and he certainly doesn't have an imposing presence. In fact, he sort of fades into the background, which is all fine by him.

BACKGROUND: Tom spent his childhood in an orphanage. He never knew who his parents were, and - despite his curiosity in other things - never cared. Trying to steal the watch of a visiting couple got him kicked out from there at fifteen.

He managed to con his way into another school, and because he was bright (and white) no one questioned his presence. He slept in a different sleazy motel each week with the pocket change he got bookkeeping for some two-bit lawyer.

Eventually he meandered his way into law school, which meant higher costs, which meant saying goodbye to bookkeeping and 'hello' to the private-eye business. Both in law school and in his work he was introduced to the wonderful variety of New Orleans vices, becoming a victim of a few of them.

There were always superstitious whispers of dark, unnatural things lurking in the shadows, and this seemed to catch Tom's curiosity. Threads led to more threads, which led to symbols and drugs and a fitful night of sleep and before he knew it Tom had an experience with one of the supernatural entities he was trying to uncover. He asked to always know the truth, and the entity complied - taking the lying part of Tom's soul as payment. A contract was made.

And Tom's never been more curious.

MISC: Tom likes thinking over the stuff he's working on in his head. Finding out information is his hobby, and he has time for precious little else. His dislikes range from grapes and dogs to rapists and corruption to even a sense of quasi-existential-dread sometimes.

code by low fidelity.

 

[redraider]

Name: Suzanne Delacroix

Date of Birth: October 31, 1903

Occupation: Freelance writer, works with the police on occasion

Appearance:



Practices: Mostly blood magic, though she's been looking into contracts with minor demons. Hasn't signed on the dotted line yet, though.

Gifts: Necromancy, and she's trying to learn demonology.

Character: Anyone who consorts with the dead and the damned has to be an insane, cackling hag, right? Wrong. Suzanne has a bold sense of humor and a bolder sense of justice, often working with the cops on murder cases. After all, who better to interview than the vic, right? She also, while not quite a full blown flapper, tends to be a bit more towards the feminist line than others in the Big Sleazy.

Background: Suzanne's family is and was, as far as she can tell, completely bog-standard mundane. So it was quite a shock indeed when she started seeing ghosts. New Orleans, thankfully, has a long and proud tradition of the occult, and she was able to find a few old books on spirits and the dead. She honed her skills and can open doors to the Beyond for ghosts to pass through, and is able to reanimate animals, though humans are beyond her for now, and quite frankly, she's not too keen on trying, believing it to be a desecration. She made a friend on the police force, and has helped solve a few murder cases, though with her method of evidence gathering being inadmissible in court, both times the killer was able to plead to lesser charges.

Her day job is writing tawdry bodice rippers, usually set in London. It's not exactly a glamorous job, but it pays the bills, and she's gotten several good reviews in local publications. She does enjoy a good drink in a speakeasy from time to time, but is far from a drunkard.

 

[Gravitational Force]

Name: Isaac "The Alligator" Butcher

Date of Birth: October 6th, 1902

Occupation: Enforcer/Hatchetman/Legbreaker for Paul Campbell's gang. Isaac tends to be sent in for intimidation, but he's not afraid to get his hands dirty. He usually deals in beatings and other 'nonlethal' actions, assassinations require a separate set of skills.

Appearance:


Practices: Isaac has sold his soul to the Demon Beur in exchange for magical power and other perks. Since he's already sold his soul any further pacts require him to either make sacrifices or otherwise act to further Beur's aims.

Gifts:

• Having sold his soul to the demon Beur, Isaac's body will continue to heal as long as he's still alive. Even if a wound would be otherwise fatal (such as getting stabbed in the gut, being in danger of bleeding out, etc.) he just needs time and he'll be back on his feet. This is still limited, Isaac can still be drowned, burned to death, suffocated, or dealt enough damage to kill him (such as if a major organ were destroyed or his head were cut off). And even if minor wounds heal quickly major ones still require time and energy to heal. A gunshot or stab wound would require hours to heal at least. As a side-effect of his overactive healing ability Isaac requires far more food than a normal Human and can easily eat twice what a healthy adult could in a single meal and still be able to eat more.
• By himself Isaac has no magical talent and is a rank amateur when it comes to actual rituals. Through his pact with Beur's he has access to low-level magic usually no more than replicating particularly skilled slight of hand (one trick he's proud of is being able to produce a small flame for lighting cigarettes and he uses magic to get bloodstains out of his clothes), and can call on his patron if he needs an actual expert. Doing so always comes with a cost though.

Character: Isaac Butcher is a hedonistic, sadistic gangster, there's very little to his personality outside of that. If it weren't for the health he sold his soul for his vices would have already destroyed his body. A gluttonous, violent lowlife whose redeeming qualities tend to be pragmatic rather than moral, Isaac is the kind of person who can view breaking the knees of debtors and trashing stores as just a job. Those who meet him might be surprised that he shows little of this in everyday life. In person Isaac is personable and the kind of person you could share a beer with right up until he smashes someone's face in. Isaac enjoys showing off his vocabulary, making references to books he's read, and commenting on the news in an attempt to appear intelligent. Sometimes this works, other times it shows how little he knows.

Background:
Isaac was not born into wealth. Born into an immigrant family in New York (their surname having been changed from Schechter to Butcher when they arrived), his father was a butcher (the skills did run in the family) and his mother worked odd jobs to bring in extra cash. School held little appeal to Isaac, who had little patience for applying himself to anything he didn't enjoy and ended up dropping out. His attempts to follow in his father's footsteps held similar issues, although chopping up dead meat did awaken a hunger in him for violence. Sensing the issues with his son, Isaac's father got him a job in a slaughterhouse, hoping his urges could be sated that way. Instead Isaac found ending the lives of cows utterly unsatisfying, he especially hated the mess it made and how he came home at night reeking. Falling in with a street gang, Isaac found his personality flaws were a boon when it came to running 'protection' rackets.

Isaac eventually got busted by the police, but due to his youth and the unwillingness of his victims to testify against him he only got a few years. In prison Isaac got worse, the boredom and abusive atmosphere wore him down and he grew desperate for any form of intellectual stimulation. Isaac could read, and in exchange for a few 'favors' (usually revolving around another prisoner having an 'accident') he was able to get access to books. Isaac read a dictionary from A to Z, not knowing you weren't supposed to do that. After that came a thesaurus. And then a book on how to summon demons. The last was an accidental find, it had been stuck behind some loose bricks in Isaac's cell. Lacking anything else to do and suffering from possibly-fatal pneumonia Isaac decided to summon a demon.

Beur came. Isaac had made a mess of the summoning ritual and his inability to draw straight lines or properly curved ones meant his protective circles proved no barrier to the demon. Still, Beur chose to bargain instead of mauling his would-be master. It was a leonine contract, but it would never have been any different. Beur got Isaac's soul, Isaac got health and magic. The former proved immensely useful after Isaac got shivved by another prisoner. Pronounced dead by a disinterested coroner, Isaac woke up in a coffin in a truck on it's way to the prison graveyard. Busting out of it, Isaac hijacked a car and tried to drive back home. Disoriented from his near-death experience, recent recovery, and generally being out of it, Isaac crashed the car after driving in the wrong direction. Collapsing by the side of the road, Isaac was found and nursed back to health by a well-meaning old couple. He repaid their kindness by sneaking off in the middle of the night without having robbed them of anything more than whatever cash he could grab.

Realizing he couldn't go back to New York, Isaac drifted down South, not knowing what he was looking for. Eventually making his way to New Orleans, he fell in with Paul Campbell's gang, quickly establishing himself as a capable enforcer with no scruples and enough loyalty not to bite the hand that fed him. Currently Isaac is living from day to day, doing jobs when called to do them and otherwise indulging himself with the cash that comes with his work. He's gotten the sense things are going to be picking up though, there's the smell of blood in the air.

Misc:
Likes: Food, entertainment (books, movies, and plays especially), violence, showing off, getting away with it, pleasant company, money, people he can actually respect (very few people).
Dislikes: Boredom, complications, people not playing along, bigotry (he finds it distasteful and generally stupid), people he can't intimidate or buy, gambling (he hates having to take risks where there's a real chance he'll lose), not being in control of a situation.

Trivia:

• Isaac loves movies, especially ones with action.
• Isaac always carries three pairs of brass knuckles on him, at least two large knives, and carries a gun when necessary, although he's a bad shot.
• Isaac likes leaning into his nickname of "The Alligator." He even bought a pocket watch so he could draw on allusions to Peter Pan (he saw the 1924 movie). Ignorant of his own ignorance, Isaac does not know it was a crocodile, not an alligator that ate Captain Hook's hand and that he fed it an alarm clock, not a pocket watch.
• Isaac's pact with Beur manifests as tattoos on his body, but they can only be seen by magical practitioners and even then only when they're touching Human blood.
• Isaac wears suits even when they might get dirty, he uses his magic to clean them off or fix them if they get damaged. He doesn't always remember to though.
• Isaac still had a strong Brooklyn accent.

Theme Song:
Career of Evil by Blue Oyster Cult

 

[Vi_Vi_]

Name: Aurelie Theriot

Date of Birth: 25th October, 1904

Occupation: Thief, Information gatherer and seller, poisons dealer.

Appearance:

Practices: She uses scrying to know everything there is to know and keeps an eye on things going on in the city of New Orleans. She sells that information to those who need it, for the right price.

Gifts: She's always been highly intuitive. Some people don't think intuition could be magic but for Aurelie, it is. It's a gift she developed over the years and puts to good use. It's almost like she's a seer, but it's different from having visions of the future. She doesn't see anything, she just knows what's going to happen, especially in her surroundings. This skill helps her go about the city unnoticed and steal without a soul knowing about it.

Character: Aurelie is someone you can't call friendly. She only talks with people when it's regarding business, otherwise she prefers to stay alone. She doesn't speak much but is a very good listener. Her real personality sometimes puts her in a disadvantageous position, so over the years, she has learnt to pretend to be a different person altogether, moulding herself according to what the situation demands. She only shows her true personality to people when she starts trusting them, which happens very rarely. She likes to slip in and out of places, gathering information and finding buyers for said information. Brewing poisons is like her hobby, for which she receives a lot of money.

Background: Before becoming an infamous thief in all of New Orleans, Aurelie was just a little girl from an honest family. Her father Louis Theriot was a goldsmith and owned a small shop on an even smaller street in the city. Her mother Helene stayed at home, taking care of the children. Aurelie had a younger brother, Eloi who was her favorite person in the world. She was 9 when she lost all of them.

Her father had displeased the wrong people and one night, those people destroyed her home as well as the shop. When her house was burned with her mother and brother inside, she was with her father in the shop. When they came for her father, he made her hide in a hidden cabinet. Aurelie heard her father's screams and then felt the heat that came with the shop being set on fire. She opened the cabinet to peep outside and saw those murderers taking everything from the shop while her father's body lay on the floor, unmoving. She stayed hidden until the last of them had left and then made a run for her life. Her leg got burned while escaping from the shop engulfed in fire. When she reached her house, she found it on fire as well. She had no other option than to run from there too.

She lived all those years, running and hiding from one shady place to another, surviving solely because of her gift which she thinks developed as a result of the trauma. Had she known what was going to happen, she could've warned her family. She kept regretting that. This started her on the path of scrying. She became a thief because the situation demanded it but now that she has developed a reputation, she hopes to find the people who killed her family through her connections.

Misc: She loves gold and the only thing she loves almost as much as gold are knives which always come in handy. She hates over friendly people and those who don't pay after the business is concluded.
Other than that her likes and dislikes are pretty normal.
Likes: Fantasy genre in both books and movies, jazz music, dancing.
Dislikes: Sappy romance genre in both books and movies, Blues, singing (she can't sing).

 

[idalie]

❝ vivienne de villiers. ❞​

"Oh you can count on my vanity.
No matter what you say I'll regard it as a compliment."
​

❝ cursory information. ❞

【full name】— Vivienne Dinah de Villiers.
【nickname(s)】— Vivi, Viv.
【gender】— Cis Female.
【age】— 27.
【sexuality】— Heterosexual.
【d.o.b.】— 6th June, 1901.
【Faction】— The Underground.
【Occupation】— Club singer, smuggler, twice widowed.

❝ visage. ❞

【Height】— 5'7".
【Weight】— 124 lbs.

Relatively tall though shapely in nature, Vivienne carries herself as if head and shoulders above the rabble. Delicate collarbones, wide hips, and a milky complexion are all she stakes claim to as the descendant of a French model; retaining an unremarkable but panther-like air to her movements.

High cheekbones offer a well-bred structure to her features with a thin yet gently sloping nose - small lips forming pretty, straight-toothed smiles and thick black hair of natural curl drawn about her features as a dark frame. Notable for a cleft in her chin, thin expressive brows, and green, hazel splintered eyes - she’s the expressive star silent movies will never see.

Broad-brimmed hats draw themselves a low shadow, with equal love for pearls and mink, Vivi is a glutton for nice things. Much of her past and reputation for dating dubious fellas has always been based on gain, lamenting the day her beauty ages beyond repair. A man might laugh to think she would worry at such a time in her life, but Vivienne has no desire to be left behind while the world sprints ahead.

❝ personality. ❞

Conceited, lying, sharp-edged and downright manipulative, Vivienne is a woman best representative of what the Underground’ll do to you. On no account would she let herself get chewed up and spat out by some half-wit with undone spats, not while her head still sits straight. Viv gives it to people like it is, unafraid of confrontation and relishing in reaction, unruly patrons to her bar will never hear the end of it.

For all her flaws, Vivienne has a heart still managing to flutter. Maternal within her circles of fellow women with difficult home lives and struggling careers, she has a penchant for making things disappear. Especially husbands. Those girls mean the world to her. Such compassion is always presented by soft hands dabbing at tears before she forges knives with them. Nobody makes a fool of De Villiers. And nobody ought to hurt her little family.

She’ll die someday for it, but until then, Vivienne is the life of every party with a husky voice and honeysuckle sweetness.

❝ abilities & practices. ❞

Vivienne gave up her ability to have children, the fertility of womanhood, to achieve her goals. It was a fair exchange, permanent, and to some extent she never regretted it. Though now it seems to eat away at the back of her mind.

She asked for the charisma of Aphrodite and as promised, Vivi was given an upperhand. Voice like silk, promises better than a salesman, she dealt in persuasion. Effective toward everyone but particularly weak-willed individuals, her own halo effect when it came to building herself up. There’s just something compelling about her. The way she smiles. The way her tongue runs across those white teeth. Mesmerising to stare a snake in the eyes.

Her smuggling operation relies on underestimating what a word can do.

❝ psyche. ❞

【vices】— avaricious, vain, petty, envious, deceiving.
【virtues】— maternal, patient, analytical, confident, charismatic.
【fatal flaw】— greed, whether it comes in gold bars or fine diamonds, Vivienne finds it hard to refuse even in the face of loyalty.
【happiest memory】— trying on her mother's costume jewellery in the dressing rooms of dusky bars.
【a secret】— her last husband isn't just missing, but he'll be found sooner or later. Granted there won't be much evidence left. The original owner of her newly acquired speakeasy and adult entertainment establishment, some men just get in the way.

❝ background. ❞

TW: Domestic abuse, suicide, etc.
Vivienne was an unwanted birth. Illegitimate, the child ruined her mother’s upcoming career in the silent film industry, only kept for what she could offer. A pin cushion for her mother’s biting insults, living under the thumb of a narcissist, Vivienne was a quick learner. You powdered your bruises, hid from your mothers latest beau, and lied. You lied so much you forgot what the truth was. Anything to make others happy, just for a second - covering it all up and bottling it down.

Working in burlesque shows, singing in smoky bars - that's how the older De Villiers liked to headline acts, bringing her daughter to sit on strangers knees and act a sweetheart for a little extra cash. It stopped being so innocent the older she got.
After an altercation with one of her mother’s boyfriends, Viv was thrown to the streets aged only sixteen. But she was pretty - and she believed she was smart, as most teenage girls often do.

As a waitress, eighteen-year-old Vivienne would meet Louis Fontenot, some twenty years her senior with an eye for vulnerable women. He swept her off her feet, then beat her twice as bad as her mama used to.

She miscarried twice. Both times it was a boot to the stomach, a rough shove down the stairs. Broke her leg, couldn’t dance for work anymore - but Viv never had the voice her mother did. She got desperate. No amount of begging was going to help her, nothing would, no friends and no family, she called upon something bigger.

It felt like a reward - and Louis was a weak man. They found him with his head blown off and shotgun in hand, a note, everything to show it was suicide. But she’d never say she talked him into it. Whispering in his ear while he slept, staring him right in the eye as he hooked his finger over that trigger.

Vivienne started headlining a singing act only weeks after he passed.

For a long while, she remained the untouchable songbird of New Orleans, popular with bachelors and always found on the arms of men who had more power than they did sense.

Her second husband was a fella named Dallas LeBlanc, married at twenty-five and spent two blissful years arguing. He didn’t like the way she acted on stage, she didn’t like finding him in bed with new girls. Dallas owned his speakeasy and strangely, he’d been persuaded to hand it over to Vivienne in his will, only some months prior to when he vanished.

Third times a charm?

Using her stage girls, loving words, and a little help from ex-partners in the Underground, Vivienne established a prohibition smuggling ring. Police weren’t the sort to look up a gals skirt after all and she began thinking it was time to develop a hobby.

&&— ❝ the she devil. ❞​

 

[Mage_Clawhammer]

Name: Ian Rowe

Date of Birth: Born in 1908 (not sure what day or month)

Occupation: Tramp

Faction: The Unknown

Practices: Ritualistic magic through the use of incantations, physical mediums, and symbols. More powerful spells could require sacrifice, and dabble into the realms of blood magic.

Gifts: Ian is an Eater. By ingesting organic material, Ian can gain insight into the thing being eaten. Plant and vegetable matter may tell Ian the quality of the soil in which it was grown, while a piece of meat might give Ian a glimpse into the life of the animal. A pinch of dirt can contain a variety of flavors depending on its mineral composition, but Ian is by no means a geologist and really only understands that dirt from one place to the next can taste drastically different.

Ian possesses a name of power, a secret given to him by the woman who raised him. By his name, he cannot be held. Ropes loosen, locks unlatch, and doors open whenever someone tries to confine him. Spells which bind also have no effect on him. The drawback to this is that he will “know no rest”, as Ian is consumed by an overwhelming wanderlust. He might linger in one place for a few weeks or a month at a time, but is ultimately driven to move, never putting down roots. In addition, he has become an insomniac, and must rely on drugs, alcohol, and mildly magical methods to sleep regularly.

Character: Ian appears relatively easy going on a surface level, approaching most of life’s challenges with an air of C’est La Vie. He has a sardonic sense of wit, often creating the impression that he knows more, or better, than the people around him. He is a conceited narcissist, and though he tries to do good things for the people he meets in his travels, he typically ends up using and discarding them in order to improve his own lot. Ian is very proud of his upbringing in the Craft, and tends to look down on others who claim to have some connection to the occult. He particularly despises charlatans, and often delights in giving them a taste of true power.

Background: Ian was born mundane. He was raised by white trash, subject to physical and mental abuse, and eventually rescued. But Ian doesn't remember any of that. His earliest memory is of waking up in a hospital bed, his head held together by glue and gauze wrap. Once he was released from the hospital, he became a ward of the state.

By some strange fortune, Ian eventually fell in with the Týlu, a reclusive clan of woodland folk, carving their livelihood out of the secluded backbone of the southern Appalachias. The most cunning woman among them raised him as her own, though all the women collectively became his mother, just as all the men collectively became his father. He grew up in their ways, and eventually awoke to his innate gifts. As is often said by those who know such things, Ian's eyes were opened, and he was legitimately accepted among the ranks of the Wise. Unfortunately, as Ian grew confident in his abilities, he became difficult, even defiant. Eventually he was cast out for openly rejecting the laws and beliefs of the Family, and bid never to return. Upon his departure, Ian vowed an oath to never speak of the Týlu or it's members, even to other witches. The oath was sealed with a cut from the top of his wrist to the base of his middle finger.

A Secret: Ian has made a mistake, and it costs him his peace of mind. He is hunted, and he knows it, though he cannot finger what exactly it is which pursues him. And the one place that he would ordinarily turn to for help, his old family, is the one place he absolutely cannot go. His mistake has also affected his gifts. Spellwork causes the scar on his hand to tighten and eventually cramp, which could render the appendage useless for a day or more depending on how much power Ian has called upon. Devouring life can alleviate some of this, but can also make him terribly sick.

Theme Song: Hard Time Killing Floor Blues