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Dave ST

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Dave ST last won the day on May 19 2014

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About Dave ST

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  • Birthday 02/09/1977

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    Paris, Tennessee

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  1. Dave ST

    The Shadows OOC

    ...what chest? I don't think he's oolging, I think he's looking for it.
  2. So, you've all tossed your hats in the ring, what are we looking at as far as concepts? We don't need character creation rules to discuss who your character is/was before the game got started. So? What're we looking at?
  3. I'm interested in playing a Vampire, especially if everyone else is choosing the other protagonists. I'll even play more than one, if need be.
  4. I'll go vamp if others are interested in the werewolf. I'm equally proficient in both. Although if this is going to be an 'Eat Food', 'Blush of Health' sorta game where all we do is sit around eating fruit salad all night looking like humans pretending to be vampires... yeah, I don't do those kinda vamps, so I'll reserve judgement until after I've seen the game play lay out. Also I'll wait to see the plug/socket ratio too.
  5. Interested. I'd like to go werewolf, but I need my Crinos form, it's my anti-drug. If that's not avail, I'll go Vamp. Who's got dibs on what?
  6. Dave ST

    IC: S1:E3c "Beware Our Power!"

    Sinestro squinted and rose his arm up to block the incoming flashes of yellow light as Fear-Master used his ring's power. "My ring can't connect with its lantern to recharge, it's in a strange world where our power rings have never existed..." Princess looked from the sky to Sinestro with a quizzical, yet compassionate expression, "So, you're telling us the fear ring is... afraid?" "An over simplification," He shrugged. "But no less an accurate appraisal, child, yes. It's afraid. It's attempting to survive at all costs by absorbing, through induction, all the fear energy it can. That fool has no idea what he's doing, he's drunk on power." He looked at the inside of his wrist, small digital display was there. "Twenty percent power. If my ring reaches a hundred percent power, there will be no saving your precious city. Normally, I'd simply take it back, but this... 'Fear-Master', lame name by the way, appears to be one of very few people 'worthy' to wear a power ring. I had this same problem in my home dimension when a fear spreading lunatic called 'The Scarecrow' got his hands on a yellow power ring once." He pointed to the now glowing yellow, and very obvious fear generators. "Those. While there may be several of them, he appears to be using those to 'feed' the ring. The more of those that go, the less power the ring will gain. And... here's the fun part, get him to use the ring as much as you can. He's weak and untrained, he'll go through its power swiftly like a mewling cadet." He looked at Qi with a serious look that chilled her blood. "But, I warn you 'Green Lantern': our rings are limited only by our imagination, they can, quite literally, do anything. Do not provoke him in his insanity or the results could be... unexpected." Fear-Master hovered within his dome of terror, cackling madly with glee when suddenly a chibi Green Lantern and a Sinestro appeared before him, mocking and cursing one another in a high pitched gibberish none could hope to understand. "Wha? What is this!? No, shoo! Go away... get!" He frantically waved his hands about, but the two little figures just flew around and through them while they continued their eternal struggle for prismatic dominance. "I said, be gone!" "Ackchyually...." Sinestro said in a high pitch, nerdy voice with a bit of a lisp. "You said, 'go away'," the Green Lantern finished the thought just they both blasted him in the eyes with beams from their power rings. "AAARRRGGHHH!" He arched his head back, holding his eyes.
  7. Dave ST

    IC: SE: "The Dance!"

    [Rachel] Mr. Syracuse set down the few book he was holding and motioned to a chair for Rachel to have a seat and share a few words with him. He nodded In understanding and offered her a caring smile. “That's certainly admirable of you, Rachel, indeed. However, as a leader, one of the most difficult things you will have to shoulder is the burden of wanting to protect, and or save, everyone.” “The fact is: you can't always be there for them.” When Rachel gave him a disapproving look, saying that wasn't the answer she was looking for, he pressed on. He'd been a guide for thousands of years, and this wasn't the first time someone like Rachel had come to him with the same question. “I'll try and help you the same way I helped Joan d'Arc.” “She died,” Rachel delivered with all the matter-of-fact prose that could only be possible by a teenager. He laughed and rubbed his clean shaven chin. “Alright, you got me there, but it was her time. There was nothing more she could do here. It was time for her to rise to greater things.” “You mean, she's...” Rachel just looked up to the murals the adorned the ceiling of the library. “Indeed, yes,” he offered in his usual posh tone that was always gentle and soft. “You remind me a lot of her: strong, noble, passionate. You love big, or not at all. Forget the stories you've heard, her life had little to nothing to do with King Charles VII or the Catholic Church. No, she was a warrior, par excellence, and she battled the Titans minions on all fronts as they ravaged the countryside of France. She wanted to protect not only the French, but everyone. However, she was a great leader, and instead of trying to protect everyone, she did one better.” Rachel narrowed her eyes as he paused for effect, “She taught them to protect themselves.” “Precisely.” He, he tapped the table, knowing she would hit the nail on the head. “Be their leader, instill in them the skills and morale to stand up and do hat needs to be done, when it needs to be done, whether you are there or not, and they will be just fine. Just remember, Rachel, and I say this with a heavy heart: you can't save everyone, Rachel. The harder you try, the higher the toll Fate will claim from you.” [Fisher] “Okay, this afternoon then,” she smiled at him, barely keeping in check the smile she had. Her cheeks flushed and it seemed the more she tried to hide it the more she seemed to gush like an enamored teenager (which she was) which she spent night after night in the mirror telling herself she would never do. Fisher though... he was handsome, sweet, and they'd never 'gone out' before so everything that they had was based on pure friendship, the way, she felt, relationships should be. But he was different lately, he was... different now, possibly an alien or some other creature that possibly stole Fisher's body and her friend was possibly locked away in his own basement, or worse... no, she didn't want to think of that. Him and his new 'friends' were weird, and she was going to get to the bottom of it. Hopefully, her partner in crime, Billy was having better luck than she was. [Austin] “As do I,” Yokiko nodded. “Thankfully, more powerful spirits, like the one we battled recently, are not common. Hopefully we have earned ourselves a reprieve.” She walked along slowly, holding her lunch bag in front of her with both hands. They came upon the school, sharing in that awkward silence so common among teenagers with crushes. She didn't mind though, sometimes the oceans raged and roared while other times they were calm and silent. She took solace in the current peace. “I must be going she said finally, pointing the doors she usually entered through. I have only a few minutes between classes to check the dark room and reserve my time for the day.” Austin noticed the shy smile the curled at the end of her lips. “It was a pleasure walking with you.” [Nadya] [Skipping Nadya, since she is one period ahead of everyone else.] [Laurie] “Oh, yeah,” she could see those gears slowly turning behind those empty eyes of his. “We probably won't all fit in the Goat.” He counted off with his fingers while naming off his band mates. “Yeah, prolly gon' need a limo. “I know Yoki is going with that lame ass Lange, and I don't think Bridgette is going tonight. She's been in hardcore bitch mode since she got in that fight with Cooper.” Eric seemed to swing from 'rather charming' to 'cave man' in his manner of speech and body language almost on a dime. “S'all good though, leaves more room for us, right?” He smiled and shot her a wink. She was sure he just meant to 'tap' her in the arm, to accent his joke, but his great strength made it feel more like a 'slug' to the arm. “Oh, I gotta leg it, Coach wanted to see me before class. Talk later, yeah?” [Beth] If Beth heard one more Homecoming comment from the students around her she was going to lose her ever-loving mind. That's all anyone was talking about and she was reminded every thirty seconds- “Oh. My. God.” Some random female students walked past her as she was at her locker, digging for books. “Jared totally just text me and asked me to go!” They all squeed, loudly, and Beth wanted to place her head in her locker and just slam it repeatedly until the noise went away. Make that twenty seconds. She closed her locker door and it was straight out of a horror movie, Dane Summers was standing opposite her, hidden by the door and he about scared her to death. “Jesus, Dane, what the Hel!?” “Hola, Bethany,” he said with a dazzling smile and that surfers drawl like he was Bill and Ted's love child. No, Chicken Joe from Surf's Up... Bill land Ted were a sacred institution and he could not take that from her, no matter how hot he was... for a stoner hippie surfer... guy. “Dane, I'm not really in a good mood, right now. Please, just...” The Scion of Baldur stood up straight from his lean against the lockers. Beth knew she was playing with fire. Dane was about as harmless as a kit rabbit, but he was one of those pretty Scions, and they had a way of getting in your head. Although still new to the school, she was grateful Laurie was on her side and saw how terrible pretty Scions could be thanks to Mercedes' examples. “Woah, hey, sorry. I just had a question, I swear, that's all...” He raised his hands in peaceful offering. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and held her bag. Keeping he hands busy were the best way to not slap the crap out of him for scaring her half to death. “Why do you have to be so pretty,” she muttered softly to herself. All she wanted to do was walk away, but something made her stay and that same something was keeping her from not liking him right now. “Fine. What, Dane?” Dane perked up immediately. Nothing kept him down for long. “Righteous! Kay, so, like,” he whipped his hair back out of his eyes and she about wanted to choke him... while getting lost in those eyes and bittersweet scent of sandalwood he brought with him into every room. “Arron and me are totes doing the dance thing tonight,” “Very progressive, it's current year, I'm happy for you both,” she said dryly, wanting him to get to the point. Dane laughed. Gods! Did anything annoy this guy!? He was eternally happy it seemed. “Good one!” He finger gunned her and pressed on. “Totally walked into that one, nice. No, what I meant was that he's D.J.ing the dance and I'm doing a few live sets. Nadya said you were, like, an ace with computer stuff so I was hoping maybe you could help us out a bit? Calibrate the lights and make sure we haven't totally screwed it up, yeah?” “You don't have to answer now,” Ugh, and he was so nice about everything... “Seems like you got a lot going on, so like, just hit me up later.” He looked at his wrist, that didn't have a watch. Chances are he was stoned out of his gourd, which he usually was. “Woah, I'm totally, late... I think. Maybe. I'mna jet, later!” He darted off and Beth sighed, took a deep breath, and headed off to class. __--==(@)==--__ If Eric's brain was rumored to be the slowest working brain in Salem, Rachel was currently inadvertently attempting to break that record. She had been slowly chewing her sammich for the last minute or so, struck dumb, completely, by the sight she was witnessing. Indeed, the rest of the band, who, as was normal, gathered at 'their' table for lunch only to see Nadya and Niles on the opposite side of the cafeteria. She was nuzzling him feeding him fries and 'booping' him on the nose with Twinkie filling only so she could lick it off (she was told twice already to stop by the faculty, but kept doing it) and the constant laughing and giggling form the two of them was enough to make all those around them a bit awkward... so much so, they practically had the table to themselves. Laurie's sushi, still tightly clamped in her chop sticks had been hovering near her mouth for about the same amount of time. The sheer absurdity of the entire scene just seemed to defy all logic (and these kids tossed out logic a long ass time ago). “Did... we miss something,” Fisher said, his cheek resting in his palm as he tried to piece this together. Austin just shook his head. “Uh, I-... I don't even.” Laurie's sushi finally slipped free and went rogue, plummeting back into her lunch container, and no one seemed to notice.
  8. Hehe, that rhymes.
  9. Dave ST

    Star Trek: Destiny OOC

    Have you tried fuchsia and periwinkle?
  10. So, what happens when Tatiana throws a Halloween bash and invites all of Claremont Academy with absolutely ZERO adult or ST supervision? I dunno, you tell me. This is a completely optional thread, started by you, the players. Participation is completely optional, but like most writing project threads, there are rewards to finishing it. 1. This is a collabo thread, meaning all of you will be writing it together. 2. NPCs from Claremont will be there, but I will not be writing for them. I know the list so far is not very extensive, but I can fix that (I can post a list of people we've not mentioned in game, yet). All this means is that you'll have people present... you don't have to use any of them. 3. You're still teens, keep that in mind. Aside from that, I have no say over what you guys do at the party. Within reason obviously (Omega doesn't show up to D.J., for example). It's a party. You're teen superheroes. Get stupid and have fun! ...and seriously, Omega is not showing up to D.J., quit smirking at the screen like that... it's not happening. You may start this project whenever you're ready...
  11. The three guests, all strangers, were quite aware that had stepped into a world of high society that was leaps and bounds above what they were used to. As far as social stratas went, they were no where near having their feet on solid ground. Manhattan's richest and most affluent individuals were present, from CEOs to Philanthropists to celebrities. The Gala was taking place at the David Zwirner gallery on 19th street, and for an event like this, unless you had seven digits in your bank account, they wouldn't let you smell the food from the street. [Casey] Casey and her people had arrived early, and she still wasn't a hundred percent on board with the idea. Mr. Mourne could talk a good talk, but the dream hadn't left her mind the last several days. Something was eating away at her, like something out there was stalking her and hunting her joy so it could consume it before it found its way to her. Still, she pressed on, and was none to surprised to find that Mr. Mourne had elevated her to his 'Plus One' so while her people and one manager she brought with her were catering, she was free to mingle with sycophants and people she had nothing in common with in a dress she really couldn't afford but was to proud to not show up looking her best (well, on a budget best). Despite it all, she'd yet to see Horatio anywhere but she did catch sight of a few partners from her old law firm. Including the bastard that cost her a future in Law. [Maya] Life had been weird for the last several days. The strange words hadn't stopped, but the doctor she went to see told her there was nothing wrong with her eyes and she was not dyslexic... but that didn't' seem to stop the world from making her see 'things'. The two beings never came back to her 'dreams' so she was thankful for that, yet a part of her was a bit worried... after all, the way they talked, they seemed to be in danger. What if the entity they were running from caught up with them? Then again, they were figments of her addled mind... why should she care? They knew things though, things no one else could have known. "Maya," Mrs. Richards, the woman who had invited her to the event, greeted her as she arrived. Not far from the entrance she and her husband were entertaining a few friends/clients/whatever, shaking hands and smiling. Everyone here looked so wow. Mrs. Richards was in a dress that was worth more than Maya made in a year, pushing up a chest and hugging a butt that cost slightly more than the dress. "Oh, I'm so glad you could make it. You look amazing." She wasn't sure if Mrs. Richards was being serious or just in that placating, complementing mode rich people get into when around other rich people, but it was nice to hear, nonetheless. "Feel free to roam and mingle, Keith and I have to our obligatory 'hellos' and I'll find you and we can catch up." Her smile seemed genuine, but just as fast as she broke away from her husband she was right back at his side, shaking hands and getting her diamonds kissed. [Mel] His finger nails were growing back, that was a plus. Showered, shaved, and in a suit, Mel had to admit, he didn't look half bad. Still not quite sure this security life was for him, he couldn't quite argue the money. Well, he could, but he'd already spent some of it to replace the throw rug he clawed through trying to dig his way to China the other week. He wasn't packing, unless you counted the taser under his jacket (he didn't). Brent had given him the details and for the most part the gig was a cake walk. A few grand to sit here and make sure some idiot doesn't get too drunk? Too easy. The Gala was talking place on the first and second floors of the four story building, and they had men positioned all over the place. Mel was one of a few roamers, security who kept in motion and made sure the guests knew that they were not far off. Mel didn't expect too much trouble, like Brent had said before, the most they'd dealt with was on disgruntled guy several months back. Since then it was all rich guys needing to escorted out to a cab. With a tug at his coat he rolled his shoulders and went back out for a walk around the floor.
  12. Brent Conners Old War Buddy Quote: “The war doesn't end just because you come back to the states. This place is just as messed up as any other place in the world, all you can do is find a pay day, get rich anyway you can.” Background: Major Brent Conners is an honorably discharged Army Ranger and old friend of Mel Grimson. After his service to the country he returned to the states he began a private security business with the assistance of a secret partner. In the last eighteen months Bent has covered more high profile clients than most private security firms cover after decades in business. Description: Brent Conners is rolling in money and it shows. Always in the best fashions and tossing money around like it rains from the sky. He's every bit an Army Ranger still and his fitness and physical readiness are never in question. He possesses a smirk the devil would envy. Storytelling Hints: You're rich and making more bank than the military ever could have provided you. Sure they trained you, but you wasted twelve years of your life serving your country and pulling the trigger overseas every time they said so and all you got for it was sixty-eight thousand a year and free counseling for your PTSD. Now, you got it made and making more in a week than you made annually in the service, so... why are you so worried?
  13. Horatio Mourne Idealistic Guide Quote: “Life isn't about sitting around and waiting to be dealt a better hand. It's about playing what you've been dealt with dignity.” Background: Horatio is the Chief Development Officer for the Manhattan Metropolitan Museum of Art. He recently approached Casey Mason at The Full Pot about catering an upcoming event at the museum. Aside from impeccable credit and a sports car no one has any business driving in Manhattan, not much can really be found on the guy. Thus far, he seems relatively dirt free. However, unless he's an investor of some sort, it'd be hard for him to have the sort of money he does on a salary of a Development Officer. Description: Tall, handsome, broad shouldered and irresistibly charming, Horatio carries himself as 'just-a-guy' who just happens to be blessed with good looks and personality. His dress of choice is expensive suits and keeping his hair bound back in a pony tail. Storytelling Hints: Don't sweat the small stuff, look at the bigger picture. Too many people live in the now and never think a step or two ahead. They get lost in the emotions of the moment and make rash choices and those choices can set them back in ways they never dreamed possible. Situations are not always ideal, but they are what they are, focus on finding solutions, not dwelling on the problems... and do it all while looking great, feeling great, and smiling the whole way.
  14. The various NPCs of the Chosen game will be here. Once some of the bigger mysteries unravel I'll include character sheets for them, so if you want to steal them for your home games, you can. While Chosen does not follow OWoD canon I'll set the format up like the old style so making use of them for a home game won't be difficult.