Congratulations. If you’re reading this, you’ve been chosen to represent the human race against the ever-vigilant army of the Prince of Lies. You will be joining the ranks of some of history’s finest soldiers, and be inducted into the single most powerful militia in human history: The Escariot Organization.
What’s that? You’ve never heard of the Escariot Organization?
Don’t worry, you’re not alone. While the Organization, and its Church sponsors, are among the most influential and long-standing entities in the Western world, a team of experts have been working full time since roughly the beginning of the nineteenth century to ensure that people like you (that is, most people) remain largely ignorant of the Organization’s true purpose. If you have information on the Organization (and if you’re reading this, you do) then rest assured that we want you to know about us, and are preparing to induct you. You lucky b*****d.
The Escariot Organization was founded in the height of the Burning Times in the High Middle Ages, roughly beginning in 1000 AD. Quite an illustrious history! Funded largely by the Church, the Organization has served as specialized crusaders, men (and, since 1967, women) trained specifically to combat the Liar’s Army.
Our mission statement is simple: banish demonkind from the surface of the Earth and, ideally, one day invade and enslave all inhabitants of hell in service to our Lord and Master.
Currently, our righteous soldiers serve in teams throughout much of the known world. We train extensively, and outfit all of our soldiers to be capable, individually, of banishing most common forms of demonic influence.Within this overarching religious militia, however, one elite team stands apart, taking on the world’s most desperate missions regarding demonic influence in the world. This team operates in a specialized position, for the team has access to a weapon the rest of the organization does not:
The blood of an incubus. Please turn to the next page for information on that team.
THE SEVENTH TRUMPET: ESCARIOT’S EXPERIMENT IN THE SEMI-PRIVATE SECTOR
“A note to incoming team members --It is important to report ALL effects of ingesting demonic blood to your supervisor, no matter how disturbing. This Controlled Substance is highly addictive, and preliminary studies have suggested that there can be perverting effects on the human psyche. If you See Something, Say Something. This could mean all of our lives. “
Founded by its current leader, St. Vier, in 1998, the Seventh Trumpet operates within Escariot on something like a consulting basis. Its members, equal partners in the decision-making process, are given only the most desperate or immediate cases, cases which normal Escariot teams are incapable of completing.
What allows the Trumpet to operate in such a, er, specialized sphere, is the source of their members’ near-supernatural abilities: demonic blood, taken into the bloodstream via constant transfusion. These transfusions come from an incubus that St. Vier personally bound to her will during her service as an Organization first lieutenant back in 1997.
It has long been known to the Organization that demon blood, taken into the body, will temporarily allow heightened ability (with results varying individual to individual): records of similar effects have dated back to the 1200s AD. Due to the very short-term nature of the effects, however (once the flow of blood has stopped, effects last roughly three minutes) and worry about the perverting nature of ingesting anything demonic in origin, demonic blood has not regularly been used as a weapon within the Organization. It continues to be a Forbidden Substance within the Organization at large.
St. Vier’s decision to base her team’s strength –on- the constant transfusion of demonic blood continues to worry Organization heads, and the team is under near-constant supervision. Members worry that the longer the Seventh’s members take incubus blood into their bodies, the more they will be tainted and perverted by its influence…only time will reveal any long-term problems.
In the meantime—the Seventh’s track record improves, giving it one of the highest banishing records in the world.
The Founder :St. Vier Role: built this organization from nothing but zealotry and greed—captured the incubus and took the first swig of demonic blood. Status: TAKEN byRhine Jive Click
The Juicebox/AKA Mr. Juicy:Sheoth Role: The Seventh’s pet incubus, who was actually a pretty big deal down in hell; it’s assumed he’s kept to heel, and the team would crumple without him Status: TAKEN by Wulfston
The Steady Hand: Elisha Truth Martin Role: First responder; a skilled fighter and a longstanding member of Escariot; one cool customer Status: TAKEN by AbominableDante
The Addict: Royce Whinton Role: addicted to incubus blood, needs to visit the incubus more than the rest of the team to function normally, and his/her ‘normal’ may be a bit…different from everyone else’s Status: TAKEN by Lisa Lixlar
The Eager Convert : Rachel “Rae” Belleza Role: New to Escariot; couldn’t be more thrilled to kill her/him some devils—may still require initiation Status: TAKEN by Moonlit Shadow
The Servant: Role: a minor demon in service to Mr. Juicy, masquerading as a human—waits for the day when he/she can topple Escariot and free his/her master—until that day comes, he/she plays the good little soldier… Status: OPEN
The Teetotaler Role: The only member who has never touched incubus blood; manages to make up for the loss of supernatural power by functioning in a non-combat capacity, mostly—spends a lot of time as bait Status: OPEN
[[Note: further positions can be added by request]]
1) On character history: it’s very possible (probable?) that these characters have met—feel free to establish ongoing histories in the OOC.
2) I’d like this to have some heavy horror elements. Possibly some fairly disturbing stuff, with complex, interesting men and women driven to desperate emotion. Actual tension would be awesome, as would bleedy loff, charged rivalry, all of those more keyed-up emotions. To get there, I need everyone’s help in keeping the mood and driving the story forward. If you can do it with finesse, I’d be thrilled to incorporate almost any mythology or twist.
3) All sexualities are accepted and appreciated (though for actual sexytimes, Gaia ToS yadda yadda).
4) Well-written, complex characters. Posts with substance. As long or short as necessary. I have no set standard for this—just have fun, and be awesome.
5) I’ll post profiles in a separate thread; don’t post them, and don’t start playing yourself until accepted. *tips hat* I’ll be opening the game as soon as there are three or four characters—the rest can filter in as they come. Oh, you can title your PM anything you want, just make it obvious to me what’s up.
6) Sample post. Give me one, so I know how you write. I won’t accept profiles without them.
7) It’d be nice if you’d let me know if you’re leaving the game, so I can reopen the position.
8 ): This is an important one. Semi-regularly, in my role as Moderator, I will PM you a "Love Letter." This is a twist/occurrence that I would like you to incorporate into your gameplay. They will be short notes about what might have happened to your character, or how they might have encountered NPCs in the past.
I will likely ask you to roll a die in the OOC (there is a dice roll function available), and ask you to pick from a few possible consequences depending on what you roll.
Unless I tell you it's okay, I would ask that you not tell other player characters about the content of your Love Letters. They should be secrets to be revealed through gameplay.
(Make these as long or short as you want. It isn’t necessary to go on at length—your character will surely reveal him/herself as things progress. Pictures are encouraged but certainly not required.)
[size=10][b]:. I'm known as .: [/b] :: Character name ::
[b]:. Behind the scenes .:[/b] :: Username ::
[b]:. Candles on the Cake .:[/b] :: Age ::
[b]:.I am proudly.:[/b] :: Role, as described above
[b]:.Gender.:[/b] Self explanatory, add sexuality here if you wish (certainly not required)
[b]:. Write-up .:[/b] :: Personality goes here - a paragraph at least ::
[b]:. Assets .:[/b] :: Strength(s)—for anyone not the Teetotaler, Juicebox or Servant, include what effect the incubus blood has on you; for those three, detail your primary strengths to the team/as a person ::
[b]:. Sob Story .:[/b] :: Bio - a paragraph at least ::
[b]:. File Not Found .:[/b] :: Appearance—description or picture, whatever you prefer ::
[b]:. I have .:[/b] :: Weapon(s) or any other important items ::
The air was wet; sluggish, it let the team move through it only reluctantly, soaking clothing and frizzing hair just enough to ensure the impossibility of a professional appearance.
They’d been here for days now, heavily involved in investigating a particularly contentious set of calls dropped into Escariot’s lap. By all signs, the Seventh should have walked into a warzone.
Instead…nearly nothing. Imps setting pets on fire. Wisps in the marsh. A single, easily routed shed, apparently invoked by an isolated incidence of idol worship.
St. Vier was frustrated; pent-up, and left to the no-less grateful citizens of the small outpost village they’d been patrolling (a job she accepted mentally with ill grace) she was more than ready to leave. She was left biting back her words, patching in the lack of any significant activity to Escariot dispatchers, wondering again and again ‘why were we called?’ This was basic extermination work. Any Escariot team could have handled this, down to the most fumbling. The calls that had been patched through had been so desperate…
The Seventh was staying one final night in the village, camped out in the local parish (the closest to a regular hotel the town could offer without directing them forty minutes down the only highway leading out and down to the comparative metropolis of Baton Rouge). St. Vier’s enthusiasm was well worn but it was standard procedure to maintain a presence for a week, to give anything that might show inclinations to return time to do so.
One more night of turns taken patrolling in four hour chunks and they could leave. Finally.
Responding to the small group gathered to shake her hand, St. Vier shifted the Marlin 444 rifle still balanced under one arm, rattling the small pouch of finger-long bullets (barely used in today’s brief skirmish) in a way she subconsciously hoped would read as threatening.
The temptation to palm this latest pet owner’s doughy face and demand to be left to her pot of gas-station coffee was strong (she’d taken the coffee as unofficial payment for her trouble; no one had stopped her). By now, her smile was more a baring of teeth, her body posture deliberately and carefully kept loose and casual.
Behind her was the repurposed delivery van long since scavenged and modified, SWAT style, to serve as regular transport for the Seventh within the United States. Sheoth had been stashed in there while the rest of them slept in the church (the idea of bringing a demon onto hallowed ground would have caused St. Vier physical pain, though it was technically possible). There were water bottles in the van. In a cooler. A cooler filled with ice…
”…God be with you” she tried again, hoping the clear dismissal would read and knowing it wouldn’t. It hadn’t the previous six times.
This was the type of weather where you just stayed inside and slept, she thought as she wiped the back of her neck.
Granted, Rachel was used to it as it was a constant back home, but back home she didn't have to deal with... this. She had been with Escariot for a while now, so she knew the organization was normally pretty good with calling the shots, but her unit's presence here just made no sense. And that made her uncomfortable. Her joining this organization was supposed to help calm her anxiety about the things she saw--give her some power to deal with them. But the idea that logically something had to happen soon now that she was just dealing with them all the time overpowered any idea that she was now quite capable of sealing it or blasting it in the face.
Or the Seventh just went home after having spent a week in this tiny village. Although much safer, (and sort of probable still, she had to remind herself) that was a disappointing end to their visit here too.
Well, St. View didn't seem anxious, nor did most of the other members. Just frustrated. Rachel should just treat it like that too. The woman had come out of the church, having needed a change of clothes after their skirmish. Spotting St. Vier and the village groupies, she quickly thought and raised a free hand in greeting.
"Sorry to interrupt but I," a pause as she thought, but at least she didn't say something uncredible like 'uh,' "need to borrow St. Vier for a bit."
She didn't really have any reason to need the Seventh's leader, but she was sure the other woman would appreciate any sort of help in getting away from the villagers. But while she was at it maybe Rachel could bring up her thoughts about them being here. Maybe mistakes with Escariot dispatch happened often?←←
The van sweltered, the heat trapped within turning the dripping condensation from the icebox into humdity so intense that the windows were beginning to drip. A small whirring noise cut through the thick, silent air. Three clicks, and a grind. The Fallen bit his lower lip gently, staring at the device that he hoped would save him.
"Come on... Come on..." Sheoth implored quietly, breathily, afraid that somehow any sort of disturbance might cause the machine to malfunction catastrophically. It had taken him hours of work to get it to do even this, likely having been abused by Vier in a fit of rage. Another click. A soft, humming whine. The ex-Angel beamed, letting out a single bark of laughter.
The van exploded with the roar of overdriven guitars as the compact disc vomited forth it's contents. Water rolled down the windows in thick beads as the van shook slighty, it's sole occupant rocking rhythmically to the music.
"I thought I was going to die of boredom." He mumbled to himself through a self-satisfied grin. Of course, he was aware that someone was likely going to come and either re-break the CD player, or just take the disc. They always did, killjoys the lot of them. It wasn't like it was easy for him to trade for such things, either. People were surprisingly suspicious of anyone offering money for whatever music they had with them, and it was worse if he couldn't manage to scrounge together actual money. Which was usually the case.
Pre-emptively, he locked the doors. Hopefully, Vier was hoarding the keys. With any luck, he might even get halfway through the album.