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Demon: The Fallen a white wolf RPG Anonymous 08/09/2021 (Mon) 06:30:32 Id: 1ffe9d No. 18
Okay so I wanna run a demon campaign. Whether we start with one guy and eventually gain more, or instead wind up with a one on one personal experience is whatever to me. Either way sounds good. I have done both, and White wolf makes single player experiences relatively fun and easy. Your character, should you choose to make one and join, will be a Demon, a fallen angel. One of Gods own who turned and rebelled. After an unfathomable time spent in hell you escape. And find yourself in the late nineties. Where God appears to have long left his creation, and there are no angels to be seen. Left with no means of answering the only questions you still had, you turn to a personal philosophy to make life meaningful, and continue on in the possessed body you have stolen. We shall, depending on the backstory of your character, have antagonists, and vices. The monster within is the usual pretext to pretty much every WW gameline. And this is no exception. Morality is tracked quite a bit more than say DnD. Anyway if you are interested drop a post here, and we will see about getting you a corebook, and then walking you through character creation. Afterwards we can have the first session here. This site supports die rolls, and miniatures and graph paper are never really seen during a WW rpg anyway. If for whatever reason we do find them necessary I have backups for that possibility as well.
>>131 I imagine most folks would be if they felt love for the first time in heaven knows how long.
>>132 As an aside. The first edition of Demon, which is what we are using, used a fairly normal Christian tradition as its basis for lore, but there are some obvious diversions. In short the world, reality, is presented as operating under a set of rules. These angels are completely without inagination, that is the biggest difference between them and God, or humans. The second version (nwod, or New World Of Darkness, wod2.0) treats the universe as a computer simulation. Angels as daemons, programs able to act only in very specific ways. God as the ultimate programmer. And the reason for weird kludges such as the crucifixion or circumcision is well that they were kludges, hacks, God will for whatever reason only work within the framework of the universe as HE made it. These roots are relevant because they are present in this corebook as well. So whenever possible I treat Taz as a very simply as possible in regards to outside stimuli. He just acts, he doesn't really pause to think or consider his actions, a hint of why he probably was in hell. The appearance works on a 1-10 scale called a torment meter. At the theoretical one you are redeemed. Purely angelic in appearance, and savable by God through the apocalypse supplements, for when the world ends on Dec 31 1999. Yeah this is all old stuff. Anyway at a 10 you basically look like the grim reaper, mr skeleton man with blue flames for eyes. In between the torment you suffer for your own actions is reflected by the flames burning you. The more burned the worse you feel, the more you have to atone for. At level 1 you couldn't leave an innocent in danger without helping or you would automatically go up a level to torment 2. In a real RP session you would of course be in complete control and all these rules would be 100% actually used. As it is I'm reflecting the average new character starting around 6 torment, and wanting to use his apocalypse form as soon as possible, because its half of character creation, and new players usually wanna use it asap. The first one always looks like a spergout when you type up the campaign into a real story later using notes taken while playing. Something I always did to help players understand the epicness of PnP rpgs. And get them coming back. This has been behind the scenes with your host vamp
>>133 Thank you Vampyr, very cool.
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>>130 "WHAT THE FUCK MAX!" Liz seems pissed off, Max is no help. He just started mumbling, but surprising as it might be for either one of them to hear, Taz just doesn't have fucking time for this shit, he'd picked up a lot on society from prayers heard in the Abyss, and Max's mind filled in the rest. Cops were bad news. "It's fine Liz, just help me up" proffering his hand to her, Lis takes it and straightening up soon sees them both standing again. Max's dirty and stained clerical shirt, black, the same as his pants and Liz' top stand as a stark backdrop to the rising flames, now engulfing most of the apartment building, an inferno to match your mood. She slides in closer, less to help you around then for protection. "Shit it's really going up Max... Good thing I grabbed my toothbrush this morning. We can share I guess" She turns from the fire and looks you square in the eyes. "Max what the fuck is happening?" "No time babe, just trust me. We gotta boogie." "Fuck" she turns towards the darkness "We'll need a car" Which is a good point. Anyone escaping vegas on foot won't get too far. It's desert for hundreds of miles. "I have thoughts on that" Taz speaks through a smile. Max asks how? Did people mention the specifics of hot wiring a car in prayers to HELL? Taz rolls their eyes. Max always thinks he's so clever, so sarcastic about everything Taz does, but Max never sees the obvious. They need wheels, cash, and anonymity. So grab it. "Wait here Liz" "Max? Whats going on?" She queried. Hefting the backpack onto one shoulder over her own pack. You ignore this and move to the curb. Theres a crowd of residents and on lookers gathered around the building fire. The department still hadn't shown up and someone or someones were screaming in there. He listened for the DING DING DING Keys left in car alert. Hearing it and seeing an old chevy lumina with the drivers door slightly ajar, the dome lights showing a crack of light on the asphalt. That was harder to see with the brilliance of the fire, but hey seeing through flames never botherd you before. You see a man three steps away with his hands on his head, he appears to be crying. Moving quickly you open the door and sit down, turning the key as you do in one fluid motion. The man turns as the engine starts and the car door closes behind you. "What?" He sobs at you, you turn on the brights and cut the wheel to the side, generously apply gas, and lean into the turn. You straighten out on the street heading toward liz, you flash the brights and brake sharply by her, she tries the door and it's locked, shes yelling by the way, you hate when shes upset. Max screams at you try the door, and there are a lot of prayers from people dying in car crashes that were also pretty explicit on how to unlock doors, well before they start praying about burning first anyway. Taz leans over to the passenger seat and manually undoes the door lock. The pistol is digging into your back. You take it out to hand to Liz when crybaby catches up. You hear the car door open and someone grabs your shirt. "Max!" Liz screams, like a broken record. You just gun the engine. You feel the man lean into the doorwell, the pressure on your right is relieved as he reaches in pocket of his hoodie, he turns to face you. And his head jerks to the side as a .38 rips into it from the side. "FUCKING WATCH THE ROAD MAX JESUS CHRIST" The name makes you scream yourself in agony as you push the corpse out of the door and look at the road, swerving to avoid a Lexus you pull back into your own lane, and close the car door. "Buckle up babe, we really need to get the fuck out of town." You turn and see her staring at the revolver in her hands. She seems to be in shock, and should really take her finger off the trigger if shes going to point it at herself. Max rolls his own eyes and moves his body again, never having felt resistance til now Tax wasn't prepared for it. Max slaps the wheel gun out of her hands. "Liz theres fucking kilos of Tar in my backpack" That got her attention "Max What the fuck did you do tonight?"
Soon the lights of Vegas fade as the road turns to a single lane going each way, and the talking is still going on. Liz has a million questions, and Taz has no more room to stall. Max's little outburst earlier has her still clutching the other backpack on her side of the car. You got the revolver back though. That's a good place to pause today. For prompts idk. You gotta give some kinda talk to Liz. Also I don't like that she has the dope. Did we really just turn grand theft auto into a homocide? That escalated quickly. Now we are headed on 50 going east. The loneliest road in america. Unlikely to see another soul, but if someone knows we are running. Like the cops. There will be aircraft looking. Planes most likely. They already use them to check for speeders. So the other nice thing about this road is you are unlikely to see another driver ever. And there are abandoned old timey cowboy towns where no one lives. So short term chilling in such a place might be a good idea. Long term there is no water and you will die. Going back is a terrible idea.
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>>137 Must've driven a long ass fucking way to get to 50 from Las Vegas, lol: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/U.S._Route_50_in_Nevada We could head on back to Yucca Mountain for the shits and giggles of it. Nuclear-powered demonry sounds awfully dangerous to me.
>>149 Shit. Damn you geography. Hmm. Well whats that road leading east from Vegas? Cause I guess thats what we're on.
>>150 Okay looking at my road map shows us15 heading towards mesquite as the road I want. Sorry folks
>>151 Based writefag retconning his story to be more accurate
After an hour of driving you turn off onto a dirt road. Theres a cattleguard you drive over. You drive another ten minutes before pulling over. The clock says its 9 PM. And then you start talking, you describe the war in heaven, your fall, and eventually work your way towards Max. "Is he still alive?" Liz asks at that point. "Yes, and he still loves you, and so do I" you respond She takes some time to think about all this. That works for you as you continue the story of today. As she becomes aware of Jake, and his drugs she perks up and appears to be paying more attention. "Those goons at your apartment were Russian mafia. I've seen them around when I was with Jake." She mentions. So that's one question answered. Apparently that was Jake's people hitting back. Your turn to consider things. "Can I call you Max?" "Sure, as good a name as any" "But what is your name?" And that snaps you fully back into the conversation. "It doesn't matter. I haven't used in a long time. I like Max" "Okay sorry no need to get defensive" "Its okay Liz." She fidgets and asks whats really on her mind "What do you want to do with the junk?" She lifts the bag as she asks. "Destroy it." "WHAT!" She practically screams at you "Fucking why Max? This could set us up for life" "And at what cost? Someone else ODing in a shithole apartment? No this poison needs to be destroyed. I'll make a campfire in a bit and that will be that" "Max just think about what your saying" "Liz this poison owns you as surely as any slave master. Don't you want to be free?" "Not as much as I want to be happy Max..." "You can have both Liz. Do you trust me?" "I mean kinda? But how?" "Easy Liz. We make a deal. I'll free you from this curse, and in return you won't leave me." Leaving out the forever part of that statement. "I'd never leave you Max. Sure... Do we shake hands?" It isn't necessary. The words were enough. You skim some of her soul off to check the connection. Works fine. And you feel better than you have in millennia. Time to do your part. You shift your consciousness from Max's body a little. Enough to reach over and begin rearranging her bloodstream. Dialysis alone wont cure her addiction but it's a place to start. You reknit collapsed veins as you move through her system. Her brain is degraded and that takes a good thirty seconds to reverse a decade of damage. "MAX WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING" You ignore the fleshwords and continue. A deal is a deal.
>>153 Cool
>>153 I assume Taz can see liz's memories now? That'd be some cool insight into how she and Max wound up as heroin whores together.
The job is finished. Her body, always perfect in your stolen eyes and emotions, is rendered into a form far fitter and healthier than she had ever achieved naturally. Whole of mind and body for the first time in years she exults, she is running outside now. Enjoying the night free from pain or want. And Taz reflects. Between the connection with her, and his mastery of Max's body, all of the sordid details of his past are laid bare. You stare backwards through time to satiate a curiosity for the blasphemous. You see to the year of 1986 when the two lovers met. Father Maxwell is delivering food to the poor at the encampments outside town. Dressed in full vestments he strides clearing between shabbily assembled homes. The ground dirt beaten flat by the passing of thousands of souls. His stare is full forward and his head held high, a giant metal pot between his hands, and then he sees her. Eliza squats in green partially torn tent, the metal struts visible through tears as the cloth hangs loosely, her clothes a too large stained white tshirt and khaki shorts, loose fitting Reeboks of a red hue strapped to her feet. They smile as they make eye contact. In 1987 he is holding her hand while they go on a date In 1991 he swears they will be together forever. The same year he first begins taking tithings to buy food for the homeless. In 1992 he is using the funds to buy heroin with Liz. You snap almost to the present and see the fight the night before. Max is explaining he's been fired, Liz swearing it can get better, Max saying it's all over. His soul the devil's own, forfeit. There being nothing left in this world worth anything, then he takes the bag they bought and saying he needs it all. Liz leaving crying. So Max shoots up and nodded off.
>>167 You still writing? This is good stuff, keep it going till you reach a decision-making point. There's nothing I can riff off here.
>>168 Yeah I just take a lot of breaks sorry. Thats good on the backstory right? Cause I wanna either fuck with cowboy ghosts or go back to Vegas and find out whos behind all the drugs and crazy assassins, could be fun. Or we could just keep driving and turn this into a cross country thing. But the suns rises on the second day soon for our protagonists. And thats three ideas for what they do when it does. If I was running this as game as a storyteller those would be the three ideas I make notes for and then see what the character decides. He may choose a fourth option like robbing a convenience store and then hiking out the mountains. You never know. And new players do tend to act like insane murder hobos
Around 4 am she gets back in the car and you both sleep together in the back. Waking at 10 you rouse Liz and step outside to piss. A singular experience, Taz glorifies in the sensation. Opening the drivers side door and climbing in you start the car. Liz climbs in the front seat and buckles up, you drive back towards the highway. You can either get back on going west or east. The dirt road also goes straight ahead under the highway.
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>>169 A roadtrip sounds AMAZING. We can stop at all sorts of new places, have fun shenanigans and get new members for the convoy. Convoy. That's it! We can eventually gather an entire convoy of people all following Taz throughout America, going on insane adventures and eventually dealing with the undue attention a massive fuckoff convoy would attract. Let's keep going east and see what there is to see in Mesquite.
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Getting back on I-15 going west you drive for an hour before pulling into Mesquite. Liz pulls out some money and you get the gas tank filled, you stop at the grocery story and buy some canned food and a medium sized pot. Getting back on the road you drive through Arizona before getting into Utah, the terrain has closed in to become very rocky and mountainous. You merge onto i70 near beaver and drive for a few hours before stopping for lunch at a mcdonalds in green river, Taz enjoys the sugar. Continuing on through the night you arrive in grand junction Colorado around 10 pm. Finally feeling safer with a State between you and the trouble you exit there for the night. Liz is tired of driving and wants somewhere we can rest a day or two. Finding the terrain north of the small airport to be drivable and mostly dry desert sand you set off for a couple miles beyond town, finally parking and grabbing a beer from the 12 pack you got at the last piss break. Liz is already asleep in the passenger seat. The car is grateful to finally turn off. You need a new one. Taz disagrees. He says he understands the engine. He has been studying it all day. He wants to try making it work more efficiently while we drive. Max is worried at this idea, but has learned to save his debates for more important topics. This far out the sky is full of stars. And You fall asleep staring at the twinkling.
>>172 Taz is a mechanic now? Go for it, man.
>>18 The author of this story has put it on hiatus, as per >>183. If desired, (you) may take over authorship and post a link to your new author's thread here. If the author comes off of hiatus, they may continue their version of the story within this thread as normal.
Taz awakes on the hood of the car, his long limbs cold under his jeans and unbuttoned dress shirt, for a second he savors the sensation, then opens his eyes and swings off the car. The sun is still below the horizon. Opening the backseat quietly to not wake Liz he takes the small pot, two bottles of water, and a can of folgers out, Liz turns in her sleep, the warmth of the car bleeding out into the cold air in wisps of vapor, and Taz takes a minute to stare at her reclined form before shutting the door. Gleaning for firewood takes 15 minutes, lighting a small fire would take at least as long Max knows, and so Taz knows, pausing by his pile of dead sage brush Taz grins and clenches his fist until it hurts, another sensation of flesh long denied him, and uncurls his hand to reveal a blaze in his palm where Max's nails dug in, a moment more to ensure the fire is burning evenly, and then he sets the pot on top. Pouring the water bottles into the pan, and then when it bubbles spooning in some grounds from the can of coffee grounds. Taz watches the water for a minute then returns to the car for two mugs, swiftly transferring the muddy coffee two both he sets one down and walks back to the car. Taz taps on the window til Liz opens one eye to glare at him. "Coffees up" Taz declares pointing back toward his small campfire with the pot and mug resting beside. Then without waiting for reply he sits on the hood and stares at the horizon. The mug steaming under his mouth he watches the sun rise for probably the only time in his existence. Time trickles by. It is full light before he hears the car door open and footsteps walking away from the car. 10 minutes later Liz climbs on the hood to sit beside him. "This shits cold" she whispers Taz just stares at the horizon "And probably the worst coffee I've ever had anyway" she continues Taz just nods. "You missed the sunrise" he murmurs "Next time I'm making the coffee" she growls back Max wishes he could roll his eyes Taz just grins.
>>200 Roadtrip when? Also, woman moment.
The cliffs in the distance are the same shape and color of old cowboy films, the landscape all around is apocalyptic in its absence of color or signs of habitation. Dirt, plateaus, and some depressingly ill looking sage sprinkled about. Everywhere but behind Taz. Behind them sits the small town and the highway. "Come on and lets get breakfast in town" Taz finally speaks aloud as he swings off the hood and starts getting into the drivers seat. "We only have 15 dollars left" Liz remarks before slowly getting down off the hood. She dumps the coffee from her mug and grabs Taz' empty one as well. She turns towards the passenger seat before staring at the remains of the dead campfire. "Is that out?" "Yeah, its fine, now come on" replies Taz He's beginning to get irritated with how much time they've already lost and is anxious to hit the road. "Okay" and with that last comment Liz finally opens the door and starts sitting down. Her safety belt is only half way to the catch when Taz turns over the motor and starts backing the car out towards the dusty dirt track towards town. "Geez your in a rush" liz is sour "Just wanna eat and get back on the road honey" "Can we get McDonald's?" She asks suddenly bright and cheerful. Max doesn't like the idea, and with his grumbling about money ringing in Taz ears the car is finally pointed back around towards town and Taz starts accelerating. "Yeah maybe... Hey I got an idea on money" Taz said "Oh yeah?" "Yeah it's simple, we ask for it" Liz raises an eyebrow Taz turns and smiles to calm her "Trust me baby this will work" "Ugh, I'd rather not fly a sign today" "No no, it's not begging, I have something different in mind." Soon dust from the tires is all that remains at the campsite And quiet returns once more to this desolate place.
>>202 Picture of grand valley OHV just north of the grand junction airport. Just off road "H"
As they neared highway 70 they passed several fast food joints, And the looks from Liz with each one passed by became more sullen and pointed. Taz ignored them and drove on. South of the highway, they pulled into an angler shop's parking lot. "What is this?" Asked Liz "A place to answer a question" replied Taz with a smile And with that, he left her in the car and walked inside. An old man at the counter saw him enter and alternated staring at him and filling out paperwork for a father and son. Taz saw a refrigerator in the back and stood there biding his time till the two at the counter had finished acquiring a fishing license, then grabbed a small Styrofoam cup of worms from the fridge before heading to the counter "Howdy" Taz greeted the salesman "Just that?" The old grizzled man behind the counter queried "No, do you know anywhere around here that's good for catfish?" "You'll need a license" "I got one last week looking for bass, but I'm craving catfish today" The counterman seemed puzzled, out of town licenses were usually purchased for the day only, but with a slow shake of his decision it wasn't his business and rang up the bait "You could try the colorado river south of town" "Thanks, I just might try that" "Well it'll be a dollar for the worms" Taz fished out four quarters from his pocket and slid them across the counter, then took the bait and left the store. Back outside Liz was smoking a cigarette beside the car and pacing "Did you get breakfast?" She murmured "In minute honey. In a minute" With that Taz entered the car and started the motor Liz flicked her cigarette and climbed into the passenger seat. "Well can we get it now?" She asked as the car pulled away from the parking lot "Not quite yet baby, first we gotta see the amazing colorado river" Liz snorted and leaned back in the car seat "I'd rather get breakfast" (Grammarly loves this one now so there.)
They pulled beside the road near a wide river, and Taz stepped from the vehicle. "This is perfect" he started to himself with relish. There were two fishermen below. Tax could see a red bobber floating on the surface of the river a little ways out from them. Descending the bank he made his way beside them. One of them in truckers cap glared at him for a second before speaking. "Help you?" Taz smiled and slowly responded "Maybe, you catching anything?" The other man hadn't turned during this exchange but had been listening, and at this, he chuckled. "Hell no" "What you using for bait?" Asked Taz "Mormon crickets. The fuck else is there to use this time of year?" The younger of the two responded. Still facing Taz. "Well, you tried worms?" Taz practically spoke through his teeth at them, so wide was his smile. The older man finally turned to Taz "Who the hell are you mister?" "A friend, here try these" Taz produced the styrofoam cup of worms bought earlier from the shop, Although to say these were the same worms wouldn't have been strictly speaking truthful. "I know you?" The younger of the two questioned with a frown. "No, the names Taz" proferring his other hand for a shake while passing the container. The young man reeled in his line then took the cup from tax, set it down, and then shook Tazriel's right hand with his left. "Andy" said the younger man as he set down his rod and opened the container of worms. "Shit these are big cocksuckers!" He said as he threaded one on his hook. "Smell a lil funny though" Taz just grinned back for all he was worth.
>>205 The colorado river at grand junction
>>206 Also, side note did you know it's pretty much impossible to find grits for sale in grand junction? I'm serious I went to three different stores last time I was there and the only one I found was a two lb sack of specialty "stone-ground" grits in a tiny burlap sack. Cost like 12 dollars. Years later and I'm still furious with these goddamn Yankees.
>>204 Thank you, it's much better >>207 That sucks man. I had grits for breakfast at cracker barrel just yesterday. Ever tried grits with tabasco? It's an interesting experience.
>>205 Taz is about to pull a "fishers of men" Jesus moment, ain't he?
>>208 Eh. I found a typo. "Slowly shook his decision and decided it wasnt his business" Should be head. Fuck. >>208 Yeah red eye style my uncle called that, a tasty, spicy, good eatin' time. >>209 Heh yeah, if your gonna steal, steal from the best.
Within seconds Andy had the worm hooked and was casting back out into the river. "Should stick with the crickets" said the older man Andy shrugged and slowly worked the line a little hoping to entice a faster catch. "Never hurts to try," Andy remarked and turned to wink at Taz "So you just out here to give out free bait, friend?" Andy continued "Something like that" returned Taz "Shit!" Andys pole almost scythed out of his hands as a large weight came on the line "Damn, you got one!" The older fella declaimed as he dropped his pole and turned in excitement to clap Andy's back "Fuck but he's a fighter!" The line seemed in danger of snapping as it worked like a blade across the semi still water, sending water spraying back and forth as Andy struggled to reel it in. "Pete get the fucking net!" Pete, as that was the older man's name, turned to the small pile of equipment to his left and grabbed a large net. Taz looked up the bank behind them to see if Liz was watching, but there was no sign of her, and the glare of the sun blocked the interior of the stolen car from view. "Fuck!, help me Pete he's stronger than a bastard!" Yelled andy as his pole continued jerking to and fro. Taz stepped towards the younger man and helped grab the pole and steady it. "C'mon reel!" Cried Taz as his adrenaline started to let loose. Careful with the pole, urged Max in his head, apparently as affected as the rest of them. With a crash, the 40lb channel cat broke the surface in his attempt to flee. "Goddamn, you see that!" Pete practically screamed "Fuck seeing I feel this sumbitch!" Andy yelled All too soon Andy had pulled the massive fish to the bank and Pete struggled to net it. "I got it" he quietly exclaimed as he finally lifted it from the water and had it in a bucket by the men's feet. The big fish didn't exactly fit, and may have escaped had Andy not carefully grabbed it with one hand while working a pocket knife under the beat chin. Awash of watery blood streamed out, almost freeing the large catfish from his grip, but by then Taz and Pete had their hands around it as well, holding it down as it jerked wildly in its last moments of life. "Holy shit!" Andy said as the fish finished struggling and he stood. "Biggest damn cat I ever saw!" Pete nodded with a grin, on impulse turning and offering Taz his hand. Taz took it and made his mark on the man's soul.
Fishing. Liz can hear her stomach growl again for the third time in as many minutes, and her deadbeat dipshit boyfriend is fishing. Not bad enough that he's losing his mind, all that bologna about demons and angels, well that isn't exactly new she corrects herself, he was always talking about God to her for years, but now he's crazier since that last fight. Her stomach growls for the fourth time. She still can't believe he ripped off the only dealer still talking to them, and God only knows what happened to the muscle that came to collect at the apartment, the whole thing is still a blur in her mind, but hell do drugs long enough and that happens. For a minute she was starting to buy his shit. That was probably just the junk talking. Liz hates being ignored, her parents used to do that for years till she left when she was 15. And now here she is once again. In some shitty situation, hungry, thirsty, left in a hot car while someone else does whatever the fuck they want, but what about what she wants? What she wants is in her front right pocket, and she can't stop touching it. Just to make sure she tells herself, just to make sure she didn't just imagine that too, but there it is. A little plastic baggie, one of the hundreds from a backpack. She hears laughter from outside the car. Fucking men. "They always disappoint you" she murmurs to herself. Or maybe it's her mom talking. She said that once Liz thinks. Who knows though? Memory is such a blur. She looks at the clock on the dash, but the cars been off for more than ten minutes and the blank empty dial just stares back at her. "Fuck it," she says aloud as her hand comes out of the pocket with a plastic baggie tight in her grip.
Okay second hiatus time. I'm gonna work on the 50 shades thing through december probably. And im at a wall on this as well. I need to delete the past like three entries and rethink the direction. Otherwise I'm just gonna kill Liz out of annoyance. I think go back to the flight from Vegas even. I wanna finish that story there. With my planned other demon in control of a small organized crime outfit. Office in a casino, all about temptation, we deal with his mooks, finally have a big boss fight for true control of Liz soul (this other demon got there first and pushes H) and then start the cross country journey. Really I think we need to have a book set in Vegas, even if its a short novella, and then with a better grasp on liz characterization move into book two the cross country /pol/lack thing with better established core characters. I mean right now shes kinda a cardboard cutout. And I hate her. So yeah a break from this while I work on the other thing, come back to this with a clearer head, and just a better drive for the whole thing. There's just no tension here. Getting very paint by numbers, bland, boring. Yeah taking a break and when I come back massive rewrites.

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