The current home of The Offset Parabolan and associates.
Ockham, The Offset Parabolan (any/all)
calling card | profile | tag | timeline
There's something odd about Ockham. Ockham seems cordial enough when you meet at a society soirée, or in the crowded lobby after a theatrical performance, even if Ockham seems to say very little. It's not until you get out into the crisp night air that you feel suddenly awake and refreshed, and the haziness of your encounter truly sets in. What were you talking about anyway? Did she say something important? Was it she? Or maybe it was he... you seemed to have known at the time. The longer you think on the encounter, the more nonsensical it seems. What did Ockham even look like? Your memory of him... them(?)... doesn't seem right, like trying to remember a dream... Perhaps it's best not to think about it too hard.
Non-Player characters:
Eleanor Roberts, The Twilit Entrepreneur (she/her)
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She'd spent decades moulding herself into the model Imperial subject, the perfect, respectable English officer, the Commodore's golden boy—his favourite son—rejecting every element of herself that did not fit that ideal. Now that he's dead and she's out the Dawn Machine's hold, she's decided to live her life on her terms. Whilst no one could accuse her of being charismatic, her earnestness goes a long way. Not a woman lightly crossed when interacting in the professional sphere.
Robert "Robin" Jones, The Unassuming Confidante (he/him)
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A diploma from Summerset hangs on his wall, dated from the 80s. A handful of letters of recommendation attest to decades of work history in London, though it’s difficult to parse exactly doing what. Some sort of solicitor? Is this what he does now…? The calling card, listing an address in the Upper River, certainly seems to say so. And he certainly seems friendly enough, a social butterfly, always taking an interest in what you want to talk about. Odd, that he doesn't seem to say much about himself.
Charlotte Pryce, The Relentless Pathfinder (she/her)
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She'd heard rumours that life in London was different than on the surface. That the rules society are different. That one can live as they wish. After her husband's death, she took her kids to the Neath, with hopes for a future of simply more. More for all of them. And in London, she's determined to have it all, regardless of the cost.
Leslie Wells, The Cornish Koloman (they/he)
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A surface time traveller from the year of... 1912. Their attempt to repair their father's broken machine and travel to the dates of his journals backfired, landing him in 1902 and in the Game's crosshairs. After the Coilheart Games, they were convinced to return to the Neath, changing allegiance and slowly continuing work on their time machine. He'll get it right this time, and solve the mystery that sent them down this path in the first place.
Tamara, The Light-Born Preservationist, (she/her)
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A displaced Varchaasi, trying to make a life for herself in London. Formerly shared a townhouse with Ockham, now living with her business partner, Margaret. Her interest in painting and photography has landed her with London's less respectable crowd, involved in production of some of London's more scandalous images.
Margaret Hawes, The Enterprising Gossipmonger (she/her)
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Formerly a Lady's Maid at the Shuttered Palace, a Rube Goldberg string of errors led to her accidental murderer of her boss, The Traitor Empress. Upon escaping New Newgate, she'd taken advantage of her new anti-monarchist contacts to try to pass herself off as a lady herself. Currently, she's working a grift honeytrapping rich society types and sending scandalising photos of them to the newspapers in exchange for a cut of the money they contribute to the Venderbight economy, alongside her photographer partner, Tamara.
Horace (any/all?)
tag
An exceptionally round and fluffy cat. Quite possibly a paid agent of the Game and staunch Liberationist. Quite possibly multiple identical cats answering to the same name who are never seen in the same place.
□□□□□, The Rubbery Barber Surgeon (he/him)
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Trained in the style of the old masters, this butch squid will give you the best haircut and/or shapeling arts procedure you've ever seen. Happily engaged to The Tentacular Surgeoness.
Graham, The Geriatric Geodian (he/him)
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Absolutely just the worst. Graham's been around for longer than the crystals of Grand Geode. He's not even dawnpilled, just respects a fellow hater.
Inez, The Serendipitous Prodigy (she/he)
An engineer in the New Sequence with a talent for uncovering people's deepest secrets, she never seems to realise that any of this classified or protected information is not common.
Henri Reynard, The Alienated Alienist (he/him)
An Upper River alienist and licentiate, with an undeserved reputation as a gothic horror character. He cannot understand how he keeps getting on the wrong foot with so many people.
David Campbell, The Soft-hearted Vicar (he/him)
The former head of a minor Anglican church in London, contented leading his small flock. Now a drownie lurking near Mutton Island.
Peters knows love only as an unbearable burden, something asked of them which they loathe to give but are desperate to recieve. They would tear themself to pieces and give the tatters gladly, if only that meant someone would want them. Nobody presently in their life wants this from them, but they haven't quite gotten the memo.
We’re reaching the hours of creative energy being overtaken by silly thoughts such as “Do people look at the Rubbery Barber Surgeon and think I don’t know the difference between cephalopods?”, something that no one has reasonably thought. Against my own body’s wishes, this may be the signal I need to go to bed.
picture Hiram, head in his hands, desperately trying to connect the dots about the mysterious fire and find a solution to reality unravelling, while all of a sudden someone from his crew shouts "OI EXCELLENCY LOOK AT THIS" handing him some binoculars to look at the naval commotion way down below, in the general direction of London
I saw those posts going around with characters and modern day pride flags and started thinking about my modern day AU again... which got me no further, considering the two at the centre of it don't care for labels regardless of timeline.
Getting fucked up about Atlas' laudanum addiction again.
Like, this is Victorian London. Everyone is using laudanum. He sees it for cheap in the windows of apothecaries and chemists. People he knows use it. When he was using it, he had no basis of realizing how harmful it was. His mind and body were falling to pieces but how could it be from the city's chosen panacea? How could it be from the primary thing with which he had been self-medicating for so long? How could he know when to stop?
In honor of The Character I've actually completely stopped using laudanum in Fallen London itself but every time Atlas' Nightmares are getting high I eye it in the bazaar page while I imagine him eyeing it in a shop.
I saw those posts going around with characters and modern day pride flags and started thinking about my modern day AU again... which got me no further, considering the two at the centre of it don't care for labels regardless of timeline.
it's nearly june, so you know what that means: doing some really quick doodles for your ocs that have no proper refs so they can have an artfight page that's not just nonsense.
anyway, jerry the rubbery man time. remember, kids: don't make joke one-off characters because one second they're joke one-off characters, and the next they're marrying your main oc and having a kid with him. crazy.
new fun or horrible thoughts (depending on your stance on blood play) regarding Hiram's sexy time, prompted by firmament's option to hook up with a red aligned guy, and the general descriptions of red aligned people:
do Not fuck him in front of a mirror if you want your sexy time to be blood free.
do Not press too much into his skin around his chest/torso/arms if you want your sexy time to be poison free.
consider getting a huge mirror if you'd like your experience to be nice and bloody. the gloves are off during sex, just remember about the skin thing.
disregard this advice if you're into blood AND poison, just be aware that the blood will end up literally everywhere after a while. it also drips from the mirror frame.
disregard all this advice for a bit and then move away from the mirror if you want your sexy time to be just a little bloody. the gloves can stay on.
consider moving your sexy time to parabola if you're into all of that but want to avoid the bloody mess entirely. The gloves are off and there's no annoying dripping mirror effect. The flower gore is still posonous tho 🫡
got the coolest thing EVER IN THE MAIL TODAY LOOK AT THIS ? I GET TO HOLD @herearedragons FICS IN MY HAND. IN REAL LIFE.
thank you x100000 to dragons for having this sent to me and thank you x100000 to @mahoganydoodles for your INCREDIBLE BOOKBINDING goddamn!!!!!!! this is Such cool work. i will never ever be over this
