His breath carries the same deep, dark scent he exudes through his skin. His jaw shifts slightly. "My name is Otto." He speaks in an identical accent. The smell is like an abyss, fraying common sense and logic. Otto is a good friend, and even if he doesn't know what to do yet, he'll do his best.
"What talents do you have? Anything you can use. Art, science, violence. I see you have two working hands, but surely you're more valuable than your fingers would suggest."
"... I make things, I'm a crafter... and a little bit of a musician too, I'm a bard and artificer." He pushes himself to his feet, leaning against the trashcan next to him, taking his broken glasses off the ground, "I'm sorry, I'm broke... I can't pay you for your help, and I don't have anything to make with... anymore."
"Follow me." He whispers, a gentle tone that would drag against ones nerves like broken glass if it weren't for the pheromone cloud. "Your hands, your brain... I take them." He walks past, pressing several heavy black coins and a business card into Zane's hand as he walks. "An engineer, a musician, a crafter... we need your kind." The smell begins to fade as he gets a bit farther away, giving Zane some room to think. "What do you prefer to create?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
His breath carries the same deep, dark scent he exudes through his skin. His jaw shifts slightly. "My name is Otto." He speaks in an identical accent. The smell is like an abyss, fraying common sense and logic. Otto is a good friend, and even if he doesn't know what to do yet, he'll do his best.
"What talents do you have? Anything you can use. Art, science, violence. I see you have two working hands, but surely you're more valuable than your fingers would suggest."
"... I make things, I'm a crafter... and a little bit of a musician too, I'm a bard and artificer." He pushes himself to his feet, leaning against the trashcan next to him, taking his broken glasses off the ground, "I'm sorry, I'm broke... I can't pay you for your help, and I don't have anything to make with... anymore."
"Follow me." He whispers, a gentle tone that would drag against ones nerves like broken glass if it weren't for the pheromone cloud. "Your hands, your brain... I take them." He walks past, pressing several heavy black coins and a business card into Zane's hand as he walks. "An engineer, a musician, a crafter... we need your kind." The smell begins to fade as he gets a bit farther away, giving Zane some room to think. "What do you prefer to create?"
"I... make gadgets, but I can make anything someone needs made. I... you saw I need money right now, I can do any work you need." He takes the coins and the business card, looking down into his hand to look at them, trying to identify the coins any way that he can.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
Otto The Mimic approaches, looking like a rich white human male with features that are slightly off. Uncanny Valley stuff. His smell is like chocolate and coffee. There's a strange vibe around him. It's hard to identify him as anything other than a friend.
"Why are you hiding?" He whispers, his voice cutting through the silence.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Follow me." He whispers, a gentle tone that would drag against ones nerves like broken glass if it weren't for the pheromone cloud. "Your hands, your brain... I take them." He walks past, pressing several heavy black coins and a business card into Zane's hand as he walks. "An engineer, a musician, a crafter... we need your kind." The smell begins to fade as he gets a bit farther away, giving Zane some room to think. "What do you prefer to create?"
"I... make gadgets, but I can make anything someone needs made. I... you saw I need money right now, I can do any work you need." He takes the coins and the business card, looking down into his hand to look at them, trying to identify the coins any way that he can.
They have the faces of fiends on one side, and various designs on the tails side, from trains to miners to some scary looking animals. The business card has no location or number, just
Ferry Railroad Co.
Inventor of the original Hell Rail, the fastest train on any plane*
We'll take care of you.
"How do you feel about trains? Would you like to work on one of those?" He turns, his dark eyes gleaming like diamonds.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Follow me." He whispers, a gentle tone that would drag against ones nerves like broken glass if it weren't for the pheromone cloud. "Your hands, your brain... I take them." He walks past, pressing several heavy black coins and a business card into Zane's hand as he walks. "An engineer, a musician, a crafter... we need your kind." The smell begins to fade as he gets a bit farther away, giving Zane some room to think. "What do you prefer to create?"
"I... make gadgets, but I can make anything someone needs made. I... you saw I need money right now, I can do any work you need." He takes the coins and the business card, looking down into his hand to look at them, trying to identify the coins any way that he can.
They have the faces of fiends on one side, and various designs on the tails side, from trains to miners to some scary looking animals. The business card has no location or number, just
Ferry Railroad Co.
Inventor of the original Hell Rail, the fastest train on any plane*
We'll take care of you.
"How do you feel about trains? Would you like to work on one of those?" He turns, his dark eyes gleaming like diamonds.
He looks over to those eyes of theirs as he pockets the coin and the card. He shifts his feet as he thinks about it for a moment, before nodding "I can do that... if you give me time to learn the mechanics... Mr. Otto." He nods, smiling just a bit more, blood from the stab staining his teeth the smallest bit.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
*From the rift I appear, basking in the glory of the world born in blood*
*Salem, I can't deal with your foolishness rn, check out this char intro for a Mafia member I made, you can make a Mafia member too. Love ya!*
Today is a good day, for most people anyway, the town is happy, the streets are just bustling with people and new travelers, shops are opening, people are talking, new friends being made and life growing that little bit better. Not Zane, Zane decided to make a loan he couldn't pay because he decided to gamble it all away, and he's had chance after chance to pay it back, now he doesn't get any more time, now he pays.
Zane backs up into a dark alley as someone approaches, a winged tiefling, dressed in red with a deep cut shirt, baggy pants of brown and red colors, a constantly burning lantern on his belt, with long and well kept hair, giving off a kind of Greaser look, and a knife held limply in each of his palms, burning with magical runes etched into each of them. He tosses one of the knives in his hands as he approaches them, slitted, cat-like eyes staring down at them. He doesn't speak, but Zane knows what he's here for, he tries to beg as he back farther and farther into the alley, into the encroaching darkness as if it were his only safety. The tiefling's bare feet slap against the cobblestone street before he stops in front of them, leaning down and speaking softly, his voice with an accent, smiling the smallest bit, "Don't scream, makes it hurt more." And stabs them in the cheek with one of the burning knives before immediately taking it out, the wound cauterizing almost immediately after being made. Zane can't help but scream as the tiefling begins walking off, tossing his knives in-between his hands. Pimento made sure not to hurt Zane too much, just enough to teach him a little.
*Zane (Victim) or Pimento (Mafia), your choice*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
*From the rift I appear, basking in the glory of the world born in blood*
*Salem, I can't deal with your foolishness rn, check out this char intro for a Mafia member I made, you can make a Mafia member too. Love ya!*
Today is a good day, for most people anyway, the town is happy, the streets are just bustling with people and new travelers, shops are opening, people are talking, new friends being made and life growing that little bit better. Not Zane, Zane decided to make a loan he couldn't pay because he decided to gamble it all away, and he's had chance after chance to pay it back, now he doesn't get any more time, now he pays.
Zane backs up into a dark alley as someone approaches, a winged tiefling, dressed in red with a deep cut shirt, baggy pants of brown and red colors, a constantly burning lantern on his belt, with long and well kept hair, giving off a kind of Greaser look, and a knife held limply in each of his palms, burning with magical runes etched into each of them. He tosses one of the knives in his hands as he approaches them, slitted, cat-like eyes staring down at them. He doesn't speak, but Zane knows what he's here for, he tries to beg as he back farther and farther into the alley, into the encroaching darkness as if it were his only safety. The tiefling's bare feet slap against the cobblestone street before he stops in front of them, leaning down and speaking softly, his voice with an accent, smiling the smallest bit, "Don't scream, makes it hurt more." And stabs them in the cheek with one of the burning knives before immediately taking it out, the wound cauterizing almost immediately after being made. Zane can't help but scream as the tiefling begins walking off, tossing his knives in-between his hands. Pimento made sure not to hurt Zane too much, just enough to teach him a little.
*Zane (Victim) or Pimento (Mafia), your choice*
*Uhhhhh now I need to make a character that I actually want to play. I'm uncreative rn and all my characters are just.. not it right now. I'm very sorry.*
*No need to be sorry, I can wait for all time if I have to, just wanted to let you know I made this, as I would say other than Jobah, I am your #1 fan.*
They have the faces of fiends on one side, and various designs on the tails side, from trains to miners to some scary looking animals. The business card has no location or number, just
Ferry Railroad Co.
Inventor of the original Hell Rail, the fastest train on any plane*
We'll take care of you.
"How do you feel about trains? Would you like to work on one of those?" He turns, his dark eyes gleaming like diamonds.
He looks over to those eyes of theirs as he pockets the coin and the card. He shifts his feet as he thinks about it for a moment, before nodding "I can do that... if you give me time to learn the mechanics... Mr. Otto." He nods, smiling just a bit more, blood from the stab staining his teeth the smallest bit.
"I have a couple models you can practice on. Don't tell my father." He grins back, revealing those utterly perfect teeth again. The addictive scent is slowly fading, making the Mimic's presence much clearer.
*Thank you for your patience, I had to go do chores while I was writing this post.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
They have the faces of fiends on one side, and various designs on the tails side, from trains to miners to some scary looking animals. The business card has no location or number, just
Ferry Railroad Co.
Inventor of the original Hell Rail, the fastest train on any plane*
We'll take care of you.
"How do you feel about trains? Would you like to work on one of those?" He turns, his dark eyes gleaming like diamonds.
He looks over to those eyes of theirs as he pockets the coin and the card. He shifts his feet as he thinks about it for a moment, before nodding "I can do that... if you give me time to learn the mechanics... Mr. Otto." He nods, smiling just a bit more, blood from the stab staining his teeth the smallest bit.
"I have a couple models you can practice on. Don't tell my father." He grins back, revealing those utterly perfect teeth again. The addictive scent is slowly fading, making the Mimic's presence much clearer.
*Thank you for your patience, I had to go do chores while I was writing this post.*
*Think nothing of it my man, you have things to do and so do I.*
He nods, cleaning up his hair as he looks at them, “I’ll make sure not to, sir. When do you want me to start working?” He asks, just a little nervous now, more with his employer than anything else.
*From the rift I appear, basking in the glory of the world born in blood*
*Salem, I can't deal with your foolishness rn, check out this char intro for a Mafia member I made, you can make a Mafia member too. Love ya!*
Today is a good day, for most people anyway, the town is happy, the streets are just bustling with people and new travelers, shops are opening, people are talking, new friends being made and life growing that little bit better. Not Zane, Zane decided to make a loan he couldn't pay because he decided to gamble it all away, and he's had chance after chance to pay it back, now he doesn't get any more time, now he pays.
Zane backs up into a dark alley as someone approaches, a winged tiefling, dressed in red with a deep cut shirt, baggy pants of brown and red colors, a constantly burning lantern on his belt, with long and well kept hair, giving off a kind of Greaser look, and a knife held limply in each of his palms, burning with magical runes etched into each of them. He tosses one of the knives in his hands as he approaches them, slitted, cat-like eyes staring down at them. He doesn't speak, but Zane knows what he's here for, he tries to beg as he back farther and farther into the alley, into the encroaching darkness as if it were his only safety. The tiefling's bare feet slap against the cobblestone street before he stops in front of them, leaning down and speaking softly, his voice with an accent, smiling the smallest bit, "Don't scream, makes it hurt more." And stabs them in the cheek with one of the burning knives before immediately taking it out, the wound cauterizing almost immediately after being made. Zane can't help but scream as the tiefling begins walking off, tossing his knives in-between his hands. Pimento made sure not to hurt Zane too much, just enough to teach him a little.
*Zane (Victim) or Pimento (Mafia), your choice*
*Uhhhhh now I need to make a character that I actually want to play. I'm uncreative rn and all my characters are just.. not it right now. I'm very sorry.*
*No need to be sorry, I can wait for all time if I have to, just wanted to let you know I made this, as I would say other than Jobah, I am your #1 fan.*
Shuffling into the alley and chugging whiskey from the bottle is a man wearing cut up jeans and a leather jacket, chains rattling. He bears a long black mullet and sunglasses, and also a scythe from ancient mythology.
Zane looks up to them as they walk past Pimento, he pushes himself up just a bit, grabbing his broken spectacles off of the ground, “Uhh… you aren’t here to stab me too… right? I’ll pay my debts… I promise.”
Zane looks up to them as they walk past Pimento, he pushes himself up just a bit, grabbing his broken spectacles off of the ground, “Uhh… you aren’t here to stab me too… right? I’ll pay my debts… I promise.”
"Pimento got ya good. Ye'd be a fool not to. But nah, I ain't here to hurt you, didn't even know ya was here. I ain't work for them no more."
“You… really? Then what are you here for? Did I do something wrong to you personally? I’m sorry.” He pushes himself up, holding onto a trash can.
"I have a couple models you can practice on. Don't tell my father." He grins back, revealing those utterly perfect teeth again. The addictive scent is slowly fading, making the Mimic's presence much clearer.
*Thank you for your patience, I had to go do chores while I was writing this post.*
*Think nothing of it my man, you have things to do and so do I.*
He nods, cleaning up his hair as he looks at them, “I’ll make sure not to, sir. When do you want me to start working?” He asks, just a little nervous now, more with his employer than anything else.
"When you are ready. I'll put one of my models in the tavern for you. They are accurate to the smallest detail, or so my father told me. If you can take it apart and make it run again within one hour, you'll be ready for the real thing. Half an hour and you'll have surpassed half the engineers. 15 minutes and you'll be the lead in a few months... assuming you can keep it up."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*From the rift I appear, basking in the glory of the world born in blood*
*I made a Fake Human.*
*Elaborate*
*Think like one of those Mandela Catalog (GP)ers. A fiend dressed as a man. He has this aura of belonging and affection due to his sweet-smelling pheromones, so people don't initially notice that his disguise doesn't look quite right.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
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"Follow me." He whispers, a gentle tone that would drag against ones nerves like broken glass if it weren't for the pheromone cloud. "Your hands, your brain... I take them." He walks past, pressing several heavy black coins and a business card into Zane's hand as he walks. "An engineer, a musician, a crafter... we need your kind." The smell begins to fade as he gets a bit farther away, giving Zane some room to think. "What do you prefer to create?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"I... make gadgets, but I can make anything someone needs made. I... you saw I need money right now, I can do any work you need." He takes the coins and the business card, looking down into his hand to look at them, trying to identify the coins any way that he can.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
Otto The Mimic approaches, looking like a rich white human male with features that are slightly off. Uncanny Valley stuff. His smell is like chocolate and coffee. There's a strange vibe around him. It's hard to identify him as anything other than a friend.
"Why are you hiding?" He whispers, his voice cutting through the silence.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
They have the faces of fiends on one side, and various designs on the tails side, from trains to miners to some scary looking animals. The business card has no location or number, just
"How do you feel about trains? Would you like to work on one of those?" He turns, his dark eyes gleaming like diamonds.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He looks over to those eyes of theirs as he pockets the coin and the card. He shifts his feet as he thinks about it for a moment, before nodding "I can do that... if you give me time to learn the mechanics... Mr. Otto." He nods, smiling just a bit more, blood from the stab staining his teeth the smallest bit.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*Salem, I can't deal with your foolishness rn, check out this char intro for a Mafia member I made, you can make a Mafia member too. Love ya!*
Today is a good day, for most people anyway, the town is happy, the streets are just bustling with people and new travelers, shops are opening, people are talking, new friends being made and life growing that little bit better. Not Zane, Zane decided to make a loan he couldn't pay because he decided to gamble it all away, and he's had chance after chance to pay it back, now he doesn't get any more time, now he pays.
Zane backs up into a dark alley as someone approaches, a winged tiefling, dressed in red with a deep cut shirt, baggy pants of brown and red colors, a constantly burning lantern on his belt, with long and well kept hair, giving off a kind of Greaser look, and a knife held limply in each of his palms, burning with magical runes etched into each of them. He tosses one of the knives in his hands as he approaches them, slitted, cat-like eyes staring down at them. He doesn't speak, but Zane knows what he's here for, he tries to beg as he back farther and farther into the alley, into the encroaching darkness as if it were his only safety. The tiefling's bare feet slap against the cobblestone street before he stops in front of them, leaning down and speaking softly, his voice with an accent, smiling the smallest bit, "Don't scream, makes it hurt more." And stabs them in the cheek with one of the burning knives before immediately taking it out, the wound cauterizing almost immediately after being made. Zane can't help but scream as the tiefling begins walking off, tossing his knives in-between his hands. Pimento made sure not to hurt Zane too much, just enough to teach him a little.
*Zane (Victim) or Pimento (Mafia), your choice*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*No need to be sorry, I can wait for all time if I have to, just wanted to let you know I made this, as I would say other than Jobah, I am your #1 fan.*
"I have a couple models you can practice on. Don't tell my father." He grins back, revealing those utterly perfect teeth again. The addictive scent is slowly fading, making the Mimic's presence much clearer.
*Thank you for your patience, I had to go do chores while I was writing this post.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*I made a Fake Human.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Think nothing of it my man, you have things to do and so do I.*
He nods, cleaning up his hair as he looks at them, “I’ll make sure not to, sir. When do you want me to start working?” He asks, just a little nervous now, more with his employer than anything else.
Zane looks up to them as they walk past Pimento, he pushes himself up just a bit, grabbing his broken spectacles off of the ground, “Uhh… you aren’t here to stab me too… right? I’ll pay my debts… I promise.”
“You… really? Then what are you here for? Did I do something wrong to you personally? I’m sorry.” He pushes himself up, holding onto a trash can.
"When you are ready. I'll put one of my models in the tavern for you. They are accurate to the smallest detail, or so my father told me. If you can take it apart and make it run again within one hour, you'll be ready for the real thing. Half an hour and you'll have surpassed half the engineers. 15 minutes and you'll be the lead in a few months... assuming you can keep it up."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Think like one of those Mandela Catalog (GP)ers. A fiend dressed as a man. He has this aura of belonging and affection due to his sweet-smelling pheromones, so people don't initially notice that his disguise doesn't look quite right.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.