Poisoned Blood
Purpose:
Hello, my darling associates. I wish I could tell your our name is some sort of dramatic slogan. That it is an unyielding testimony to how completely evil and corrupt we plan to be, how many people we're going to drug, kill, brutally maim, and so on. I'm sure plenty of you are into that sort of thing. Bad upbringings, daddy didn't hug you enough, mommy never complimented your looks. And I'm certain that your slow development into an angst-riddled sociopath is simply fascinating.
However, if you're looking for a guild in which you can skip about slaughtering at random and then run home to me hoping I'll wash off the blood so the guards don't catch you, keep dreaming. I'm not interested in deranged serial killers. Attention whores who stir up trouble for no apparent goal or reason, inviting the law to come down upon them with wolf whistles and loud cat calls. Oh no, darlings. I'm afraid this is a business association. We're here for the tria. The profit. The money. We're here for slow and careful planning, the bounty hunting that the haughtier ones won't dare to touch, the swift-moving pick pockets, the reputation killing that those wanting might not be devious enough to do themselves. We're here to be a collective mind, a unit.
There is a drink I've always loved, a communal pot of sweet and bitter. It can range from “'ey there pardn'er, I didna' know yah had a twin!” piss drunk to feeling slightly buzzed, but that bit isn't terribly relevant. The giant cauldron is filled with red, ruddy punch, and the party-goers get together to sweeten it with the wonderful edge of liquor, different kinds from an array of colorful flasks. I suppose you could say that this drink is our slogan, our proverbial mascot. The world's been just a little too sweet lately, too sedate, too stable. I'd like to throw some fun in there. Some good old-fashioned boozed-up poison. Have ourselves a little poisoned blood.
Are you interested in a collaboration, oh curious reader? Does something inside of you stir up itching at the prospect? Do you feel the excitement coursing through? Then why not try your hand at something just slightly less than conventional?
If you're smart, you'll know where to start looking.
Take care lovelies.
Out somewhere where the rabble tend to gather is a scroll:
Well well well lovely. Would you look at yourself? You must feel pretty smart right now. You've found it.
Now all you need to do is write your name down, whether it be what mother gave you, or simply what you'd like to be called. Take a drink from those bowls over there, and trust me, we'll get back to you.
I'm so glad you're interested in our little association. Not to worry. This isn't set in stone. Just a way for us to give you want you want; more information. Be bold, be daring. I do so admire gumption.
[Below this is a large portion of blank space, left presumably for the purposes of name signing.]
The Bowls of Punch:
They look to be magically enchanted with blue way, meant to keep them fresh, the contents crisp and unmolded. The scarlet punch is cool and sweet to the taste, though it has the notable sharp edge of liquor.
[There is nothing about the punch that is poisoned. Your character will suffer no ill effects from drinking it, unless they down it all, then they'd probably be drunk. There will be twenty four hours' time to contact the character. After that, another drink would be necesary (as we'd assume it's been passed from your system.)]
[OOC NOTES:]
Leadership1.
Bartender: (The loose “leader” of the guild, who listens to collaborations, and forms ideas based upon contribution. After all, no den of thieves is going to hold a council of elect. A station earned through wit and skill, and likely a considerable amount of underhandedness.)
2.
Bouncers: (The eyes and ears of the bartender, or those eager to betray them as they see fit. Working in tandem to keep things running smoothly, inviting the profit in, and knocking the riffraff out.)
3.
Waiters: (Moving through the ranks and headed for glory, they've proven themselves to be people of skill. Their job is to keep jaws open and moving, both with chewing and drinking, and ideas spurned from a liquor-loosened tongue. They must keep a clean and well-liked image, because who is going to let them in on the latest news if they do not?)
4.
Entertainers: (Their talents are many and wide, but a lot of them involve sleight of hand, for obvious reasons. Keep the eyes on the stage, and the brawling to a minimum, with large or paltry tricks. No small task, let's keep the bar, and the guild, well oiled.)
5.
Busboys: (Not to be overlooked, these folks receive orders to the charge of cleaning up, whether that means the dishes from the table, or the little messes that sloppy handiwork might leave behind outside our beloved establishment.)
6.
Lackeys: (Every station has them. They're training beneath the profession for which they think their skills might be most fit, but they're still in cloth diapers, kids. If they want to make their way to the top, best start clawing.)
Ranks are more a way to avoid complete chaos than anything, to keep the "tavern" and criminal sanctuary running smoothly. As for what skills your character might consider, all types of talents are valued, whether they be thieving, the quiet kill, the sharp, plotting mind, the poisoner, the "tickler..." Your character can be whatever you wish it to be. Connections for teaching passed from experienced criminals to those new to the ways of law breaking are bound and planned to be formed. New players are welcomed, even desired, if they have any interest in different veins of Role Play, and if you don't currently have a character to fit this mold, so are alts. 