Hi all. To accommodate the passage of time and make some strides forward in overall plot, I am going to roll out a series of events in the coming weeks. Keep a look out for some shake ups. mhuwhahahahaha. 


If you have a specific request you'd like to see implemented, shoot me a PM! I'm open to suggestions.

Hope ya'll have a great day and a great new year!

Just wanted to wish y'all a Merry Christmas. Hope you have a great day.

Dunno if this was something anyone here cared about but I figured I'd share.

Brandon confirmed a theory on the ending of the WoT.

Elyse felt alone.  She wasn't alone, and if she really thought about it, the word alone really didn't fit either.  Sierra had left, and Elyse was with Marta, Ricky, and the wolves, but for some reason she didn't feel right.  Perhaps it was because of giving Sierra that kiss before she left.  She still wasn't sure if she had been right to do so or not, and mostly she felt stupid.  She had told Ricky, Marta, and Stinging Nose that she had needed some time to herself that night, and they had understood.

Elyse walked through Moscow, just letting her feet take her wherever they wanted to a go.  She opened a door and found herself at a bar, ordering herself a Manhattan.  The drink came and she took a long sip.  Music from the club came from behind her, but Elyse looked at the antique bottles behind the bar and ordered another drink as she finished her first one.  This time she turned around to face the other end of the club. It was then she had realized that she had not just wandered into any club.  She had wandered into Kallisti House of Burlesque.

Heya all,

I'm trying to get back into this and looking for anyone wanting to write.  I have several characters available.  I don't think it's a good idea for me to go into an already established thread, as I'm still pretty slow to respond (mostly due to personally struggling with my own writing) and I don't want so slow down anyone's story telling.

Here is who I have available.

Gio - He's in Africa - I don't think I'm ready to get into his mindset right now, but would be willing to try with someone patient.
Anton - my sentient
Calvin - Wolfbro - CCPD Monster Squad
Elyse - Wolfsis
Emily Shale/Jared Vanders - these two will likely come as a set
Enrique - Atharim with an adopted wolfsis daughter
Pyotr - Not sure I'm in his mindset either

If you're interested in any of the above - reply here and maybe we can set something up.  I'll be honest, I have very little faith in my own writing ability right now, but I'll try.

The Person Above Me -
So whoever posts next will answer the following about me. 

what you imagine the person would be arrested for,

what's in the person's pocket,

say what the person was voted "most likely to" do, 

what you would say if you woke up in bed beside the person.

Meeting with the Yakuzu hadn't been easy.  It had taken many hoops to go through, but tonight was the night.  Tonight The Syndicate would host a part inside Yakuzu territory as a show of good faith.  It wasn't the typical event that the Syndicate hosted - it wasn't some fancy party it wasn't wine and dinner and lots of money.  Instead it was catering to the people.  It wasn't about showing off their poweress.  it was about trusting the people she wanted to work with.  The Yakuzu had connections, Yun wanted them.  It was that simple and to get them she had to play by their rules.

So instead of a fancy dinner.  It was a street festival.  Canopies were set up along the side of a road, the entire road was cordoned off from traffic by some of the Syndicate officers.  Of which Sarkozy was a plain clothed officer keeping the peace at her request.  She of course had other men wandering the streets.

It was one large block party and she and the leaders of the Yakuzu sat at the end of one street in a makeshift pavillion.  Pillows and overstuffed chairs were brought out in multitudes of colors and the citizens of the Yakuzu's territory dropped off treates and gifts for their bosses.  Yun watched in awe the lack of fear around her, these people beleived they were being taken care of by the men at her side.  Also part of the things she wanted.  Though the Syndicate wasn't about followers, it was about getting the job done and using whoever you needed to do it.

It was early yet, but the streets were full.  The Syndicate was in place, but it was the Yakuzu's show.

It had snowed in the night. Even this early the main paths were clear, of course, but it clung to the architecture like the whole city had been dipped in ice. Early morning traffic threaded the same routes as she, and passers-by were polite to an Accepted of the Tower. Nythadri saw it all, but she paid little attention. She’d run through her schedule during a fleeting breakfast, calculated how much time she could feasibly spend in the city before she had to return to the Tower, and was dismayed. Not enough, was the answer, but it would have to do – because there was so much to see to.

She’d slept well, but only for the short time she had slept; not that any trace of fatigue dusted her countenance. Her skin was at its porcelain element in the soft blanket of winter, her eyes sharp and focused. Her hair was braided back neatly away from her face, the rest pooling glossy black waves in her hood, and her dress and cloak fell in simple clean lines, as unbroken and smooth as the snows. She was immaculate; purposefully so. It armoured her for what was to come.

The morning passed in a flurry of paperwork, inked signatures and formality. She impatiently refused refreshment, and sat stiff and regal on the edge of her chair. Her eyes bore holes as she watched the clerk scratch out the details on headed paper, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Her chest was tight, conflicted. Each thump was loud in her chest, surging hot blood through her veins. A call to arms; she felt it keenly. Because she knew she could let the bank sort the transfer of coin; they had her signature and would not wish her to be bothered by details and tasks they could perform on her behalf. If Jai wanted her removed from the situation, it was the most compliant action she could take to see his wishes met. To disappear without even crossing the Kojima’s door.

But for the defiant thrum of her pulse, she would have agreed to it without a second thought. The money was inconsequential; she did not care where it was housed, and regretted that it had caused so much bloody complication. The problem was one of impotence. The problem was one of pride. The problem was one of loyalty. He crossed the Tower, Jai. She wondered if it had dawned on him yet; the consequences of what he had told her and the predicament it held for her.

Soon it was done; another account opened, in a smaller establishment this time, though a holding account only. She was careful to explain that her father would be travelling to Tar Valon soon, whereupon he would arrange for the coin’s return to Andor. She neglected to mention that the letter explaining this to her father was still sitting in an envelope in the satchel perched neatly at her feet. For the inconvenience she offered generous recompense. They did not ask questions, and they offered to take care of the transfer for her.

After a beat, she refused.

When she reached the Kojima’s bank her chest was still burning with the vicious instinct that urged her to confront Zakar directly. Only she was not so sure, that in doing so, if she would be listening to the impulse that made her so adept at the Great Game, or something more primal, more reckless. What if Zakar refused her request? Could he refuse her? The sensible thing would be to proceed as quietly as possible; she did not need Zakar’s approval to withdraw the account, thus could do so without him knowing until too late. Light, she did not even need to be here in person; notaries had seen to the paperwork, had assured her the transfer would be seamless. She could still go back, let them deal with it. Her account would withdraw like a ghost, buried amongst the stacks of the bank’s other daily business. Only Zakar might note her name on the reports that passed his desk, but she would just be another of his brother’s whores; one who had apparently gotten what she wanted, or not, and had moved on. With any luck he would remove her name from his list in the same breath, and it would be over. Exactly as it should be.

But it didn’t sit easily.

Nythadri struggled with the powerlessness, with the injustice. She thought of a mother’s worry and an unfinished portrait, with no one to know the sacrifice Jai had made but her. A sacrifice he might not have had to make but for the fact she had taken the money to the Kojimas in the first place. She thought of a man who loved his family enough to be that sacrifice, to be it willingly for no other gain but peace – and even that a peace to be lived through others. She thought of the demons that chased his heels, the storms that darkened his face, the humanity he feared lost. And those thoughts pulled her across the threshold.

She knew exactly why she had come here; knew too that the flames she played with now might do more than simply scald her.

But Zakar would not walk away unscathed.

Her expression was free of the emotions that compelled her as she was greeted at the door; it was plainly neutral, without customary ice or unusual warmth – nor much of anything one would not expect upon the face of any Accepted of the White Tower. A different mask from the usual. Unremarkable. Pale eyes scanned the foyer but didn’t linger beyond a casually interested glance. The fire in her dimmed, temporarily satiated; if she was making a mistake, at least it was an intentional one. A necessary one. This was to be the simple part, anyway, getting the account withdrawn and transferred. Her gaze clapped back on the man who had greeted her; he asked what she required, if she had an appointment - she did not - and directed her to a seat where she might wait. Nythadri did as bid.