Eugene "Brody" Wright; October 2008 - March 2009
Eugene "Brody" Wright; October 19, 2008
Brody x C, the constant, the Speed Of Light
Coming back from Cleveland, and armed with his exacted tribute from young Mr. Arkel, Brody decides that it is high time to walk with the animals, talk with the animals, chirp and squeak and squawk with the animals... /Doolittle Musical Number
He starts off by conversing with Gutenberg, his zero point ghouled Chinchilla, just to sort of see what this is like, and also to get an idea of what it's like to be a ghouled animal. He is probably unsettled by the results.
Armed with a small amount of confidence, a butt-ton of cheese, a solid brick of chocolate, and several packs of smarties, Eugene descends into the sewers. Using the location given to him by Victoria Patience English, he starts trying to track everybody's favorite Albino Alligator. He starts by attempting to ask the local rodentia.
This, it should be noted, probably goes terribly at first.
Animals are terrified of him on an instinctual level, but he is armed to the teeth with delicious cheese, and the ability to communicate - so the hope is that he eventually is able to track down where our Fairy Princess is.
Should he manage to find her, he's going to give her the big brick of chocolate and packs of smarties, mention that he's a friend of Ash's, and engage her in conversation, never challenging the assumption that she is, in fact, a Fairy Princess.
Topics might include:
Ash - what was he like? He will - if it hasn't been done already - break the sad news to her.
Who else comes down here - have you run into any ah, Orcs/sabbat, as it were?
What was Calebros like? You must've been here for a while. Oh, you poor thing - you probably need some Vampire Blood to be okay, don't you? I can help you out with that, if you're in trouble - the last thing I'd want to do is leave a damsel in distress...
And so on.
If he can't find her, he probably swears a lot in Rat, which he can do now.
Gutenberg is ecstatic when he finds you capable of standard communication and lets loose a torrent of happy exclamations; 'OmigodYouYouTheFOODMAN youCanTalkandthisisawesomeawesome awsomeawsomeandcanihavesomeFOOD cuzIlikeFOODandweshoulddosomething cuzIhavethisawesomewheel thingandYEAHwouldyoulikeapaperroll ILOVEPAPERROLLSandOHHOLYSHITTHISISCOOL!"
After you calm him down a smidge, furnish him with a food ("Oh boy! Food! My favorite!") and a paper towel roll ("Oh boy! Paper towel roll! My favorite!") Gutenberg starts to get a little more decipherable as he tells you how studly, awesome, benevolent, and awesome you are. He also chats a little about how much he likes naps ("Naps are my favorite!), how much he likes baths ("Baths! My favorite!") and how much he likes curling up in that one corner with all the squishy newspaper-bits and rolling up on himself until he's a tiny ball ("It's like, my favorite!"). He eventually offers you his favorite piece of cardboard, as he's been apparently been saving it as a present but has never been able to convey his sentiments about it adequately. You graciously accept. Overall, you find him remarkably endearing, if a bit simple-minded.
After the fun and games and paperolls are over, however, you spend some discretionary Prince funds on waders and go hit the sewers. One of the first things you find out about sewers is that they are damn dark and damn disgusting. Even with a flashlight, the process of encountering friendly beasties with which to communicate is unfortunately based on tactile sensation rather than sight. You don't encounter rats, so much as you encounter "horrible crawling things that you think -Oh God!- just brushed your leg in the sodden fecal matter, and which you can only hope and pray are rats". You eventually muck around enough to get close to one and try your best to be charismatic, rather than completely grossed the fuck out.
"Hey rat!" you start, "Would you like to go off to your certain doom in search of a large magically-enhanced predatory animal in exchange for some delicious cheeses?"
"Sure!" replies the rat, "Let's see the cheese up front!"
The rat never returns, and you repeat your experiment a few more times before you realize that you're being had... and had by rats at that. Subsequent offers to have some cheese up front some cheese later net similar return rates. No rats are dumb enough to take you up on your mission in exchange for cheeses at a later point than "right now".
Frustrated, you wade around a bit swinging your mass of chocolate and plaintively looking for yon princess on your own, calling her name every now and again in the hopes that somehow, she'll hear you and understand your intentions to be friendly. You punctuate your alligator calls with the occasional statement that you are not an orc. Eventually, having found nothing, you decide to head home and take a long long shower.
As you near your exit hole in resignation, a rather curious thing happens - you're not quite certain what. What you know, however, is that after it occurs, you are down to a total of seven fingers (Take 2 Lethals), your chocolate is gone, and a large white alligator the size of a very big couch is in front of you.
You really have no idea how you could have managed to miss her.
At this point, it is up to your RP discretion as to whether or not you scream like a little girl for a moment. Regardless of what transpires, you and Isabella eventually manage to communicate, and she blubbers a rapid and submissive apology for your fingers.
I'm sorry! Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean... oh... I'm usually better when I eat. *sniff* Please don't get mad!"
You do your best, through the pain, to indicate that you are NOT UPSET with her for raggedly tearing off a good portion of your hand and that it was a mistake anybody could make. You hold out a trembling arm to offer her some Smarties, as you begin to get the slightest inkling as to why Ash might have been a chote on the grumpy side so much of the time. You explain that you're a friend of the old boy, by the way, and that he would have wanted him or somebody to drop in to see how she was doing.
Isabella, after very very carefully taking the Smarties, replies that you are ever so polite, and she's very glad Ash is thinking of her.
"Ash only pretends to be a meanie! He's really really nice deep down! How is Ash, by the way, I haven't seen him for a long time?"
And then things gets awkward...
You ease her in by talking about Ash for a bit and how he was a great guy, and you were very happy to know him. She agrees wholeheartedly, not picking up at all on your use of the past tense.
"Yeah! Ash is SO sweet! He taught me to read! He also brings me the plant so I can pretend I'm in the forest, and he listens to my poetry, and he made me a CAKE for Christmas like a BUTTERFLY, and he's never ever really angry at me for all too very long, even when I bit off Paul's arm or when I lost Ted or when I sort of ate his computer. (I got it back for him. It was okay.) He always tells me I'm a very special girl and that I'm hard to be mad at. So... uh... he... he isn't mad at me or anything, is he? I don't think? I... I didn't do anything wrong recently, except for your fingers, and I'm very sorry about that and I'll try better next time BUT I've been very good and Ash really shouldn't be mad this long. So could he come down soon , please?"
As you decipher her flighty hail of words, you realize that she's looking up at you with expectant and grotesquely cute giant-albino-alligator eyes that wibble in the dank glow of your flashlight. You're going to have to bite the bullet on this one.
Isabella's expression fades and you can intuit that in her heart that she longs to let loose a stream of rainbow tears from her un-crying eyes - rainbows with every color of sad in them. This is really a lot rougher than you expected. She starts sobbing uncontrollably, and asks if you're REALLY REALLY sure Ash isn't waking up, because well... he might.
You tell her that you're REALLY REALLY sure, and hand her some more Smarties. She sniffles as she gobbles them down, wrapper and all. After about twenty minutes of consolation, you realize that you're out of candy and that perhaps you'd better leave off further questioning until Isabella's a little farther into the grieving process. You tell her that you'll try to be back later after she's had a little time to... er... digest it all. She manages to blubber out a resigned "thank you" and slinks away into the murky offal.
You feel really fucking awkward by the time you get home. Awkward and smelling of shit.
Eugene "Brody" Wright; November 15, 2008
Brody x Feral Whispers
Brody feels crappy about how things are going. So, he hangs out with Gutenberg and Isabella, because they love him. They have to. They are full of his blood.
Who wants some delicious bloods? Is it you?
Gutenberg is always ecstatic at the prospect of spending time with you. Spending time with you, of course, being his FAVORITE thing. He tells you about how much he likes going poop (Pooping is his FAVORITE!) and how very very very very much he likes the red nummy food-guy juice you are feeding him ("Food-guy juice is totally my FAVORITE when it comes food, and food is my FAVORITE!")
His tiny beady little black eyes seem to pulse with arcane energy as he greedily laps up your hell-cursed blood, and after a brief round of snuggles (His FAVORITE!) he starts to adorably bite the unholy fucking hell out of his paper-roll, reducing it to nothing but horrible paper-roll pieces in a matter of seconds. You are somewhat glad that your hand is no longer near him. He then starts to run on his wheel with hellish but endearing ferocity, occasionally letting a low growly chirp out as he scrambles to expend his excess of supernaturally-enhanced energy. "Wow! Fuck yeah! FoodGuyYou'reMyFAVORITE! ThisIsMyFAVORITEpartoflivinghere! My FAVORITEpartofLIVING! ThankYou thankyouthankyouthankyou You're AWESOME!!!"
"You know what's awesome? You! Yeah you! You You You You You! You are the awesomest thing ever and that juice that comes out of you is awesome and I'm awesome and *stops to furiously attack bits of paper roll again* YEEEEAHHHHH! Die you motherfucking paper roll! Die like the bitch you are!!! You're not as awesome as me and FOOD GUY!"
"You know who else isn't awesome *bites randomly at bedding* that other two-leggy thing that 's in your cage Food-Guy! *huff huff* She's like NOT MY FAVORITE! I'd call her Food-girl, 'cept she's icky and creepy and never gives me food (not that I'd take food from her... pleh) and she.. *chews absent-mindedly at cage ? bending the bars a bit* ...she is always angry and she hates good things and she probably doesn't even like paper rolls..."
"Like... *nose-twitch* what's up with her Food-Guy? I mean... if she's your FAVORITE... I mean... if you're gonna make little food-guys with her or something NOTthatyoushouldbecauseshe's AN EVIL CUNT!!! OH MY FUCKING GOD I WANT TO BITE HER IN THE GODDAMN FACE *circles around frantically* I mean... yeah sorry to bring it up... I just.. you know. I want to look out for you and all! Just... oh... jeeze...I'm sorry."
You suspect that the initial rush of the infernal vitae is wearing thin as Gutenberg grows more docile and seems a little embarrassed about his outburst.
"It's cause... you know... you're *nose-twitch* my... my... FAVORITE."
You hit up your favorite elven princess trapped in a hideous giant albino alligator's body. This time, however, you are a little more alert, and manage to gracefully avoid any bruising, bleeding, lost limbs or concussions as you bring her the remnants of your post-Halloween celebration of Very Cheap Candy Day. You largely accomplish this by attaching your present to your new and handy "Princess-feeding Stick," a nifty invention which you suspect is going to save you a lot of stress, blood and band-aids.
Much to your delight, she apparently is one of the few entities on the face of the planet that actually enjoys the taste of three week old Candy Corn.
After the initial round of "Hellos," very very gentle "Hello hugs," and horribly terrible awkward flirtation, you start to ask her how her week has been. She titters girlishly and explains that she's been spending a lot of time talking to Ted now that he's back and trying to break to him the bad news about Ash. Words written here cannot describe how terrifying it is to hear a hideous giant albino alligator attempt to titter in a fashion that might be described as "girlish." In any event, Ted apparently needs some alone time too to cope with things, even if Ash and he weren't very close.
She's also been looking around for orcs (None spotted!), finding treasures (She found a Styrofoam McDonald's cup that she thinks is really neato!), reading her favorite reading thing that Ash gave her (You can't quite tell what this is, but it has something to do with a pig and hot fries), and eating rats (You smile very quietly to yourself on that one - stupid little bastards... taking your cheeses.).
She asks you about how your week has been, and knowingly winks (Again, creepily and without real eye-lids) as she inquires. She asks if being a prince is stressful at all, and if your kingdom has any evil viziers that you need bitten into small gory little skin fragments, and what your castle is like, and *cough cough* if perchance... just maybe... you might have... you know... a special princess *bats eyes*.
You look at your boots and scratch the back of your head uneasily as you try to cobble together a response. You can detect her eyes widening as she notices the glint of the faux-gold watch she gave you.
You tell her that yes, being a Prince is a little on the stressful side (Not that you need a backrub or anything! Not that... you know... you don't think she gives awesome backrubs!) and that while you don't need the evil viziers bitten into tiny pieces just yet, you'll be sure to let her know if the time arises. You also tell her that you have a totally awesome castle, with a dungeon and a kickass captain of the guard and everything.
As for the princess... well... you shuffle your feet a little and tell her that your princess, who was a very very lovely person, is dead.
She looks a little awkward and says she's very very sorry. You can see the metaphorical sad-colored rainbow tears start to well up in her non-existent tear ducts. She doesn't press for details, but smiles sort of sheepishly and says that she hopes that maybe when we're all in the lands to the West and all, that maybe... you know... you and her and Ash and your princess can all be together... in heaven ? with all the puppies and all.
You smirk a little bitterly and tell her that that would be swell.
Eugene "Brody" Wright; February 26, 2009
Brody x Feral Whispers
Just so nobody feels left out -
Isabella gets some extra attention this week, and is told slightly exaggerated versions of his heroics fighting orcs and defusing bombs. She is given a roast turkey, and told she is a lovely girl.
Gutenberg is assured that he is not going to make 'little food guys' with the other two-legged thing - he has his own two-legged thing, she doesn't live here. Whit was like a litter runt, that needed someone to take care of it, so it didn't die.
Hopefully, she's been leaving him alone. Gene will also produce the corner of cardboard (which is still in my jacket pocket OOC!) and tell Gutenberg how much ass he kicks. They both kick. Fucks yeah.
Isabella is very pleased to see you and your delicious turkey present when you next encounter her. Pleased and excited! At some point in time between her initial warble of joyous exclamation and the first crunch of tooth into your fourth finger proximal phalanx, you realize you left your Princess-feeding stick at home.
After the now quasi-traditional round of brief muted cursing, and awkward blubbering apologies, you do your very very best to assure her that your right pinky finger, was, in fact, the least important of any of your digits, and that her slip up was a mistake any lovely girl who really really wanted to eat a turkey and was a little over enthused about it could have made. Gritting your teeth, you do emphasize that she is a really lovely girl, as you try as gracefully as you can to segue from this unpleasantness into tales of your daring do.
You tell her about your rooftop battle with Jonathan Roman, a horrible insidious traitor human who had allied with the Orcish empire and who was poised to send an army of Oliphants and war machines and all manner of bad things down upon your fair kingdom, and who had helped a nefarious band of war-orcs kidnap a young, beautiful, and not at all irritating maiden a year ago. You explain that you saved another young, beautiful, and not at all condescending maiden as a result, and that you single-handedly diffused an explosive that had been placed in her throat. You handily manage to work in some mostly-completely-falsified mention of how you used her token (the wristwatch) to time the cutting of wires, and give her due credit for her service to the land. Everyone else seems to have gotten credit somewhere: Theris, Clarke, Seth, pesky Anarch agitators... why not give some to the giant albino alligator?
Isabella listens with rapt attention, her hideous slitted pupils widening with reptilian excitement. She asks you if you were frightened. (You were.) If you ever thought you might fail. (You did.) If you ever thought of her amidst all the peril. (Of course!) If peace has finally come to the land. (Princes can never rest assuming the future is peaceful. They must always e vigilant.).
She commends you for your bravery and wisdom and braveness and good-deed-doery several times in increasingly formal language. She seems to stumble nervously a bit over her words as she speaks. Her blood-rooted infatuation with you is increasingly transparent, and in spite of the throbbing of your absent pinky, you give yourself pause when you realize you find it all ever-so-slightly slightly endearing.
She says it all seems very exciting and she says she wishes she could visit your kingdom someday, even if she knows she can't. Ash always told her that people on the upside weren't big fans of princesses like her, but she's sometimes a little boring down in the sewers, even if Ted and her sign with a pig on it are nice and all. She also misses the plant Ash got her, but he explained at the time it was a special occasion plant and that it couldn't really stay down here all the time. It apparently would get dead.
As her mind wanders on the topic of her predicament, she seems a little wistful and distant, and going on a bizarre tangent asks haltingly if now that the fighting's over, if well... if they won't all meet in the unicorn room again? She knows she can't go there anymore (Ash said she was too fat to fit in her bag! Meanie!), and it's been a long time, but now that she thinks of it all, last time when the Sabbats left ... well... Marcus and other Marcus and everyone was there, and they all met and talked and built a cloister somewhere. It was nice. She misses Marcus and other Marcus and Uncle Smelly and Kah-LEE- bras and everyone. Even Gem-meanie. Not as much as she misses Ash, but...
As she rambles, she gets the distinct impression that you haven't a damn clue what she's talking about, and gives a sort of confused nostalgic sigh as her gargantuan animal brain contemplates something you're entirely uncomprehending of.
"Oh... I... I didn't really think they would. It's okay. I'm... silly sometimes."
Skipping back to her usual bubbly self, she resumes her unsettling flirtation with you and asks if you have anything planned for Valentine's Day. She turns her every-smiling mouth downward as if attempting to frown a little when the question leaves you silent.
You give her some candy before you take off.
Getting home, you talk to your FAVORITE fuzzy companion, who is very busy running at very high speeds on his FAVORITE wheel. He is, as always, chipper, excessively friendly and super-splendiforously happy to see you. It's extremely refreshing, especially in combination with the shower that washes the poo smell off of you.
Gutenberg is very happy to hear that Whit is NOT your favorite, but tries to be understanding.
"Yeah... my one sister-thing was runty... Mom rolled over on it though but it was okay because Mom was like... my favorite at the time and we buried it under the bad papers and the old food guys eventually got rid of it before it smelled to bad and then I didn't have to share my favorite nipple anymore. I miss my favorite nipple. It's cool, ya'know that you kept her alive and all, but like... did you have to give up your nipple?
"Man, I miss my Mom, she was hot... "
You cut him off before this anecdote can get any more awkward and show him that you still have your FAVORITE paperroll. He makes a pleased chirping sound and indicates quite emphatically that it was his FAVORITE paperroll first. You concur with him and tell him he kicks ass! He then tells you that you kick ass more!
This conversation ends in some manner of less than manly cuddle. You don't really care.
NOTES FOR STS
The Isabella plot I was working with with Ash was that Isabella was the offspring of "the Charioteer" of Calebros (see New York by Night source book), and had been present in 1999 to see (through her admittedly distorted vision) the attempted Nosferatu Rennaisaince that occurred post the War for New York, when Calebros was on the throne and Gerald Rafkin (Uncle Smelly) was particularly active in making NYC THE major Schreck-NET hub. The 'real' Isabella, Ash's Sire was also active in the city at this time, and was overtly idealistic about Clan interests in the city. Obviously, a decade later, none of these people are still around.
Who's who: Marcus (John Locke - played by Kevin) was the original Nosferatu PC owner of Isabella. Other Marcus was Marcus Landrit (played by Brendan) who was a prominent Nosferatu Sheriff/Scourge in early UnMasqued history. Kah-LEE-bras is canon NPC Calebros. Uncle Smelly is canon NPC Uncle Smelly. Gem-Meanie is canon NPC Gemini. The 'cloister' refers to the Cloisters art gallery in Manhattan, which was the base of Nosferatu operations in 1999, and which has a massive underground component unknown to mortals in which there remains the chambers that originally housed the central node of Schreck-NET.
Isabella at the time of the 1999 victory was an adorable baby alligator who fit in a hand bag and who often attended early brood meetings in the museum proper. She was entranced by the Cluny unicorn tapestries on display in the Cloisters and this fixation eventually helped blossom into her bizarre fantasy world of princesses and elves.
I've gone into this level of detail with Brody's influence reply, as I know OOC that Pisces and Brody are romantically entangled, and that they both have rather complementary pieces of information on the body of plot I originally drafted for Ash Gently, which I have always felt somewhat sad about largely discontinuing. All of this is history lessons, and does not require action outside of research.
Eugene "Brody" Wright; March 23, 2009
Brody x GIANT ALLIGATOR WHAT IS FULL OF MY BLOODS!
Brody visits his lovely lady in the sewers, and what has he brought with him? Why, is it a fine Easter Ham, and a potted fern of some sort? Turns out that it is!
He knows how much she missed having plants around, and how Ash used to bring her a plant every now and again, and since Ash's influence just, just seems to be everywhere these days, even places where you would never, I mean really NEVER expect to find it... ah, sorry. Is he ranting? Here, have this delicious Ham, it is glazed with honey and pinapple rings. Nummy!
Anyway, a question for his princess fair. Has she seen four or so fellows round and about of late? Italian lads, answer to (he gives her the names the four Nos gave him,) and they should have been around a bit lately, and maybe they knew Calebros, wouldn't that be a big coincidence?
They're not Orcs, or if they are, they're STEALTH ORCS, but that sounds rather foolish, as when were Orcs ever stealthy? They may be scheming Dukes up to no good, however.
In all likelyhood, they're just good, loyal subjects. But since down here is a domain where Lady Isabella knows the lay of the land - or the squishy bits what pass for land in some parts - better than anyone, he sought her counsel.
You double and triple check that you have your trusty princess feeding stick this time around, and proceed to tromp gracelessly through the sewers, making certain that the delicious porcine confection is at least a yard away from your fingers, arms and vital organs at all times.
Lady luck is with you, and your eagerly waiting fairy-alligator-girlfriend-person-thing manages to consume the gift of your favor wit but minimal damage to your person. (As usual she splashes poo all over you and you are now down a shirt, but all of your aforementioned fingers, limbs and organs are a-okay!) She is happy to see you again, and affectionately bats the creepy translucent eye-covers that shield her hideous beady eyes from the poo water.
She complements you on the addition of the pineapples to the ham and seems very happy with the plant. This has the unfortunate side effect of launching her into yet another plaintive inquiry as to whether or not Ash is in heaven yet. Gritting your teeth, you inform her that if she looks deep into her scaly subterranean heart, she might just find that there's a little Ash in all of us these days.
She doesn't really know what to say to that. She asks if this means that she'll have to start chewing on the smelly fire stick Ash was always chewing on and act mean and hit people... you know... on purpose.
"I mean... Ash only hit bad people... and orcs... and walls sometimes when he was sad or angry about things."
You tell her not to worry her pretty head over it and that's not really what you really meant about Ash... and then, after a brief interlude in which you re-emphasize that her head is, in fact, very pretty, and that you don't mind that one sort of asymmetrical lump over her left eye... really... it's charming... after that, you finally manage to make your inquiry as to the fine Italian dukes that might be stealthily up to blackguardery and villainousness. She says that she knows of no such individuals, and given your description, indicates that they are probably hiding.
"I mean... most people like that... like Ash and Marcus and other Marcus and Kaleebras and stuff.,, they were good at hiding. I'm real good at hiding myself... and um... none of them had any candies or hams or plants if they passed by... so yeah... I'm bad at noticing if I'm hiding too well..."
She pauses, sort of guiltily.
"Maybe... maybe this was what was going on with the rumbling out to the wet places down East. The umm... Well there were a lot of frightened rats and um... well maybe they were frightened of being eaten and... I was hungry... they aren't as good as hams... *sniffle* but they they seemed to all be upset about something to the East... over a bridge or something." You tell her that it's not a bad thing to eat rats if you are, in fact hungry. Rats are stupid ungrateful little hucksters, and deserve all the eating they get. You also thank her very very much for the very very very important information, and bid her a sweet goodbye. She's a little sad that you have to take the plant away when you go (It will die if you don't), but respectfully tells you of her gratefulness for both your fair gift of pineappled meats and beautiful forests.
You tell her she's a special girl.