Queen_Dopplepopolis
First Post
Yes, yes she did. But - maybe she didn't get any experience points for him!The_Universe said:
-
The VOIDRUNNER'S CODEX is coming! Explore new worlds, fight oppressive empires, fend off fearsome aliens, and wield deadly psionics with this comprehensive boxed set expansion for 5E and A5E!
Character Creation
- Thread starter The_Universe
- Start date
The_Universe
First Post
Or then she created a bunch of magical items and/or was the subject of a Vampire's level draining slam attack?Queen_Dopplepopolis said:
Laurel
First Post
Meet Miss Demeter Athena Fitzwilliam
Okay so I was a little bored today at work.... so here's way too much info on Demeter and hopefully answers most of the questions already asked. I put some stuff in about Gertie and Mik's PCs but if it doesn't mesh, just let me know. She has been in the area for awhile, so whoever has been in town or around town they have most likely spoken. Any one of society she will cling to a bit more then the unsavory sort.
And she is definitely a level 1 at the most
Name: Demeter Athena Fitzwilliam
Born: Savannah, Georgia 1854
Family (that she had any contact with in the Americas):
Parents- Joanna and David Fitzwilliam (both dead)
Brothers-5 (1 GA, 1 dead, 3 unknown)
Sisters-4 (3 dead, 1 unknown)
Niece-1 known now in Ireland
Uncle- 1 (Big ?)
Background:
1854-1861
The flame haired golden eyed little debutante grew up among wealth, love, beauty and peace at Tallaght. Her younger days were spent learning all that a good southern girl should know to make her the perfect wife and the perfect mother. She grew up listening to the legends of her family in Ireland, and the great blood that ran through her veins. She learned to ride along with her brothers, and when a good escape could be made from her mother’s watchful eye a little wooden sword play as well. Luckily her father, agreed with her choice in trying to learn a little of everything and would occationally help occupy his lovely wife so his youngest child could make good her escape.
She soaked any and all information in as fast as she could. Though she tried, there were just some thing she was not going to perfect, as she still managed to hit her finger in just the right spot each pass of her needle instead of the proper hole. Even during these times though she took solace in her mother’s presence as she lectured on her two favorite subjects the Greeks and the Bible.
Georgia did love to throw parties, and the society of Georgia certainly loved to attend them. There were always parties where she could show off and be the center of attention. Even being the youngest of a horde of children, she was the baby of her mother’s eyes and daddy’s precious little girl. In December of 1859, though, she got her first dose of reality. A new baby had been born to the elite of Savannah earlier that year, and was to be given her own ball in celebration. Demeter may have left all her memories of that day in the past, but Winifred Anne Thompson became one the circle of ball friends. Winifred lived miles on the other side of town, so whatever could be said of a friendship through party chatter was all that they had.
She never considered herself wealthy, as looking to the Cash’s house down the street they might seemed like paupers. Might to the other wealthy elite, but that was Demeter world and all she knew. Cash also had the pedigree and American blood that seemed to amount to more then having royal eastern blood. The Cash’s also produced the best stories, what with his daughter and grandson always off on some adventure. There were many a girl in Savanah that wished to do just what Ms. Cash had, and the younger they were the bigger their stories of adventure grew under the Spanish moss covered oak trees.
1861-1862
War was announced, but it seemed only another party to Demeter. Much of her life remained unchanged as her three oldest brothers went away. The two that joined the confederates came back for trips, but never were able to stay for long.
Whenever possible Demeter would gow ith her mother into town and pick up the list of news and casualties. She would roll them up and head back home, always telling he daughter no matter what a lady thought or feared she must always act the lady. Once home everyone would race to the family sitting area, and her father would scan the list. There would be sighs of peace when he scanned it for the third and fourth and sometimes the fifth time.
They were both able to come home for Christmas in 1962, and what fun it was. Then, Mary Demeter’s second oldest sister, had been found in the woods with a boy and only a thin white blanket of snow under them. It did not seem to surprise anyone, as she was always getting in trouble. That didn’t stop her mother from losing her voice with all her screaming however.
Demeter continued to learn just as she had before, only now when she fought against her remaining brothers she always had to be the yankee scum. Her wooden paddle served more as a bashing tool then a graceful dance she had watched the instructors teach. He was a funny man teaching them swords, guns, dance, and the violin. They had other instructors, but Demeter liked him the best.
1863
Within four months of the new year, Mary had written home that she had a beautiful baby daughter. Demeter’s father refused to see the child, but her mother went into town to visit her grandchild every few weeks.
Her brothers got an extended leave this year. They seemed down trodden, older, and this time there seemed less excitement, less hopeful, and less passionate as they declared they could not stay as they fought for the glory of the south. Her second youngest brother joined up quick as he could being of an age. Her mother cried and her father yelled, but her brother was out the door with his fellow blood and now brothers in arms before they could physically stop him.
The very next day her youngest brother, only two years older then herself, fell down the stairs. He had been attacked by his server case of shivers, and never could get his legs back under him. Mother said he never felt it, and he was at peace now. Her dad didn’t say much at all.
Before the year was out, her father passes away, some say due to a broken heart. She saw the horse when it came in, though, and she knew what a bullet looked like. They tried to keep it from her, but it was a small household. It seemed some yankee soldiers had come by boat, just a small group of scouts. Enough though to silence an old man who stumbled upon them on his daily ride.
One good thing came of that year though, her oldest sister got married and left home to live in Atlanta. He was a wealthy land owner, and the last of his family. She was a petty flirt who only cared about money and her beauty. Her mother never seemed to take to the new groom, always whispering about how she didn’t see him running off to fight. But her mother couldn’t say too much for he was better then what her other sister had been schakled too. Had been since now she was dead. The Fitzwilliam’s now had a niece from the first married daughter. Not nine months after she had the baby girl did she have a baby boy.
Unfortunately both mother and child died, and the father, as mother swears she knew, ran off leaving the baby to Mrs. Fitwilliam’s care.
1864
Atlanta had been ravaged, and no one knew what had become of the sister who lived there. They could only hope that they had made it to his families estates slightly east of Atlanta. There were rumors Sherman was marching through the south unstoppable. He was tearing a gapping wound in the heart of the south, and Demeter’s mother tried to prepare them all. The tutor that had stayed on was given full authority to teach all the girls as much of guns and swords he knew. Demeter was finally advancing to a thin light blade when the news came. First the rider screaming his warning, then the fort marching troops to meet up with other divisions, then the silence and the blasts of cannons. Sherman took Savannah as a Christmas present for his yankee president.
Tallaght happened to be on the wrong side of the river, or more aptly between the correct two rivers, and the perfect stepping stone for Sherman to finish his march.
Her mother opened the doors downstairs and let the wounded surround and infest the place.
Now it didn’t matter how perfect her stitches were blood would still cover her hands. First with Confederate blood as the tried to hold and then as they fled. Secondly with Yankee blood, for as a woman who could turn their back on a pleading dying boy. Well, to her ten year age they were all men.
Her mother had lost all her spirit and fight by the time her youngest sister told them of the impending marriage between her and a yankee officer. Her mother did weep, however, when she learned a drunk confederate solder had shown up at the church and shot both the bride and the groom and then himself.
1865
She had 5 brothers and 4 sisters, yet as the war ended from each she heard nothing. She was the youngest and the last it seemed. At eleven years old, she had lived more then her parents would have ever wanted for their child. Rebuilding was hard, but it gave her something to do. She had promised her mother that she wouldn’t leave Tallaght for the carpet beggars and Yankees. Her mother had passed away in October along with her only remaining sister at home. The doctor said both had gotten a dieses most likely from one of the rotting corpses we had cared for last year.
Demeter’s own sense of pride said those that didn’t help the confederates were as good as Yankees. She was able to keep the plantation and business working, since she had one brother who was a Yankee. There was a man in town and her parents dear friend the banker who helped make legal all the papers saying her yankee brother held everything until she turned 17 or got married. She had learned from her mother and father, and even at her fathers passing her mother leaned on her to run certain things. It was just going to be that much more of a challenge being a child still, and yet not able to be one.
Every other month she would ride into town with an envelope and go straight to the bank. This was another thing had been worked out. Her father often talked of his brother who had west upon arriving in the Americas. Her father had helped his brother start a business, but she wasn’t sure what they actually did. All she knew was that a rider with a single envelope came every other month and it ever only stated that it was time to check in at the bank once more. Each time she went, there would be a new stash of cash. Sometimes it was mixed with gold, but mostly it was US tendered cash. This last is what saved her families life as soon as confederate money became worthless.
1867
The Yankee troops had been given orders to again flood Savannah. Against all luck, one of her older brothers, the one who had fought for the yanks. Of all those who could have lived he was the one she wanted to kill. At the age of thirteen though she had no power though, and she had only promised not to turn it over to non-family.
Early in the year, Winifred and her family move west.
Maybe she could do that, her uncle was there somewhere. She had just lived through a war and kept an entire plantation and other businesses running. Granted the overseer at the businesses and on the property helped a great deal, but she still did a lot.
She only had a few more years, and then it was all hers. She could give him the plantation as a peace offering, and it wasn’t her fault even as the years passed he never checked how he held the land and money.
The small group who knew of the actual contract danced to hide the true amount of money, the true number of businesses, and that anything was not normal. Even when she turned 17 things went as they did before. She had to have a plan, and kicking him out may not work. The south was not her home anymore. The legal documents were changed and witnesses, so her brother got the plantation but nothing else.
1870
1870 sees the end to the careful balance she had been treading. She had catered to him, fixed the problems he made, made society accept him, let him fire all the new tutors she had been able to finally find except her favorite. Yet whatever she did to help him, he seemed to only get more angry. Finally, one night she found him trying to comfort their young niece on the loss of her parents five years earlier. She was like a sister to Demeter, and that broke the oxen’s back. The banker again was able to help her out. Through him, she was able to get passage for her niece back to Ireland and had already written to them of her niece’s arrival. The Flattery’s were returning as well, having lost too much in this promised new land. To repay them and make them feel indebted and hopefully tied to her niece more Demeter also paid for their only remaining child to cross the sea with them. Without her help, he would have to be left behind, or wait another few years.
1875
Finally her twentieth birthday came around. She had been preparing for months, but it felt like lifetimes. She lit a single candle and walked quietly down the stairs. She carried a small bag with the last of her mother’s jewels, and the small painting of her mother at her age. She readied her mare and blowing out the candle raced into town and to the birthday present she was giving herself- A new life.
In town she met the banker and one of her new friends. He was an elderly man with a woman who had helped us as children, but had taken a bullet early in the war to his leg. He knew he was out of luck here, and so was taking his family west. They had held Demeter’s growing pile of trunks and supplies on their small farm. She smiled as she hugged the banker, listening to his reassurances that he knew what to do. She promised to write and let him know each place she would be as far in advance as she could. He could then send the money on to her. She had been assured there was no way for her brother to get around what had been set up, but they knew she was worried.
She couldn’t stop thinking of home. The land was blood, was life, but it was done. She had given him the land. She had also given him a scar to mark his face. Just one single slice of her specially made blade had drawn blood and he had backed away, but it had been deep enough that it would remind him forever. Luckily he had not been near a gun, or she would have been dead on the spot. Neither did she wait around, for the sight of blood she had spilled turned her stomach most unpleasantly. Made it was the knowledge that she was leaving the very night, that let her push her luck so far.
Shaking her head she climbed large bell skirt and all into the driver seat of one wagon, and within moments off she set thinking once she found her uncle it would be like having her father back. The night was long, and if she could hit anything the heavy black revolver in her lap let her breath a little easier. He had to be the ones sending the money. She could smile at that. Though there was never a name attached only a single F, so like her fathers writing, but there was a rider, and each time the same rider. He never spoke, never even got close enough to see, but he was the same. Before she left, she left her own note on the post. The rider had been intrigued but had taken the note, she only hoped it made it to her uncle. She labeled it only F, writing inside, “Don’t send any more. Will be coming to you. F.”
July 1879-October 1879
She finally made her way to Maxwell, though she figured this had to be another short stopping point. Just look at this place- those outfits, the food, the smell, the whiskey, and worst of all the dust was covering her. Her quest had led her to deal with some strange and unsavory folks, but the past few weeks in Springer has shown her a whole new life. Not one she embraces or anything, but can tolerate.
She had traveled with many caravans, knowing a woman alone was just an easy target. As in every other town it would take her days to find the information she needed and even more to find another party headed to where she needed to go.
Okay so I was a little bored today at work.... so here's way too much info on Demeter and hopefully answers most of the questions already asked. I put some stuff in about Gertie and Mik's PCs but if it doesn't mesh, just let me know. She has been in the area for awhile, so whoever has been in town or around town they have most likely spoken. Any one of society she will cling to a bit more then the unsavory sort.
And she is definitely a level 1 at the most
Name: Demeter Athena Fitzwilliam
Born: Savannah, Georgia 1854
Family (that she had any contact with in the Americas):
Parents- Joanna and David Fitzwilliam (both dead)
Brothers-5 (1 GA, 1 dead, 3 unknown)
Sisters-4 (3 dead, 1 unknown)
Niece-1 known now in Ireland
Uncle- 1 (Big ?)
Background:
1854-1861
The flame haired golden eyed little debutante grew up among wealth, love, beauty and peace at Tallaght. Her younger days were spent learning all that a good southern girl should know to make her the perfect wife and the perfect mother. She grew up listening to the legends of her family in Ireland, and the great blood that ran through her veins. She learned to ride along with her brothers, and when a good escape could be made from her mother’s watchful eye a little wooden sword play as well. Luckily her father, agreed with her choice in trying to learn a little of everything and would occationally help occupy his lovely wife so his youngest child could make good her escape.
She soaked any and all information in as fast as she could. Though she tried, there were just some thing she was not going to perfect, as she still managed to hit her finger in just the right spot each pass of her needle instead of the proper hole. Even during these times though she took solace in her mother’s presence as she lectured on her two favorite subjects the Greeks and the Bible.
Georgia did love to throw parties, and the society of Georgia certainly loved to attend them. There were always parties where she could show off and be the center of attention. Even being the youngest of a horde of children, she was the baby of her mother’s eyes and daddy’s precious little girl. In December of 1859, though, she got her first dose of reality. A new baby had been born to the elite of Savannah earlier that year, and was to be given her own ball in celebration. Demeter may have left all her memories of that day in the past, but Winifred Anne Thompson became one the circle of ball friends. Winifred lived miles on the other side of town, so whatever could be said of a friendship through party chatter was all that they had.
She never considered herself wealthy, as looking to the Cash’s house down the street they might seemed like paupers. Might to the other wealthy elite, but that was Demeter world and all she knew. Cash also had the pedigree and American blood that seemed to amount to more then having royal eastern blood. The Cash’s also produced the best stories, what with his daughter and grandson always off on some adventure. There were many a girl in Savanah that wished to do just what Ms. Cash had, and the younger they were the bigger their stories of adventure grew under the Spanish moss covered oak trees.
1861-1862
War was announced, but it seemed only another party to Demeter. Much of her life remained unchanged as her three oldest brothers went away. The two that joined the confederates came back for trips, but never were able to stay for long.
Whenever possible Demeter would gow ith her mother into town and pick up the list of news and casualties. She would roll them up and head back home, always telling he daughter no matter what a lady thought or feared she must always act the lady. Once home everyone would race to the family sitting area, and her father would scan the list. There would be sighs of peace when he scanned it for the third and fourth and sometimes the fifth time.
They were both able to come home for Christmas in 1962, and what fun it was. Then, Mary Demeter’s second oldest sister, had been found in the woods with a boy and only a thin white blanket of snow under them. It did not seem to surprise anyone, as she was always getting in trouble. That didn’t stop her mother from losing her voice with all her screaming however.
Demeter continued to learn just as she had before, only now when she fought against her remaining brothers she always had to be the yankee scum. Her wooden paddle served more as a bashing tool then a graceful dance she had watched the instructors teach. He was a funny man teaching them swords, guns, dance, and the violin. They had other instructors, but Demeter liked him the best.
1863
Within four months of the new year, Mary had written home that she had a beautiful baby daughter. Demeter’s father refused to see the child, but her mother went into town to visit her grandchild every few weeks.
Her brothers got an extended leave this year. They seemed down trodden, older, and this time there seemed less excitement, less hopeful, and less passionate as they declared they could not stay as they fought for the glory of the south. Her second youngest brother joined up quick as he could being of an age. Her mother cried and her father yelled, but her brother was out the door with his fellow blood and now brothers in arms before they could physically stop him.
The very next day her youngest brother, only two years older then herself, fell down the stairs. He had been attacked by his server case of shivers, and never could get his legs back under him. Mother said he never felt it, and he was at peace now. Her dad didn’t say much at all.
Before the year was out, her father passes away, some say due to a broken heart. She saw the horse when it came in, though, and she knew what a bullet looked like. They tried to keep it from her, but it was a small household. It seemed some yankee soldiers had come by boat, just a small group of scouts. Enough though to silence an old man who stumbled upon them on his daily ride.
One good thing came of that year though, her oldest sister got married and left home to live in Atlanta. He was a wealthy land owner, and the last of his family. She was a petty flirt who only cared about money and her beauty. Her mother never seemed to take to the new groom, always whispering about how she didn’t see him running off to fight. But her mother couldn’t say too much for he was better then what her other sister had been schakled too. Had been since now she was dead. The Fitzwilliam’s now had a niece from the first married daughter. Not nine months after she had the baby girl did she have a baby boy.
Unfortunately both mother and child died, and the father, as mother swears she knew, ran off leaving the baby to Mrs. Fitwilliam’s care.
1864
Atlanta had been ravaged, and no one knew what had become of the sister who lived there. They could only hope that they had made it to his families estates slightly east of Atlanta. There were rumors Sherman was marching through the south unstoppable. He was tearing a gapping wound in the heart of the south, and Demeter’s mother tried to prepare them all. The tutor that had stayed on was given full authority to teach all the girls as much of guns and swords he knew. Demeter was finally advancing to a thin light blade when the news came. First the rider screaming his warning, then the fort marching troops to meet up with other divisions, then the silence and the blasts of cannons. Sherman took Savannah as a Christmas present for his yankee president.
Tallaght happened to be on the wrong side of the river, or more aptly between the correct two rivers, and the perfect stepping stone for Sherman to finish his march.
Her mother opened the doors downstairs and let the wounded surround and infest the place.
Now it didn’t matter how perfect her stitches were blood would still cover her hands. First with Confederate blood as the tried to hold and then as they fled. Secondly with Yankee blood, for as a woman who could turn their back on a pleading dying boy. Well, to her ten year age they were all men.
Her mother had lost all her spirit and fight by the time her youngest sister told them of the impending marriage between her and a yankee officer. Her mother did weep, however, when she learned a drunk confederate solder had shown up at the church and shot both the bride and the groom and then himself.
1865
She had 5 brothers and 4 sisters, yet as the war ended from each she heard nothing. She was the youngest and the last it seemed. At eleven years old, she had lived more then her parents would have ever wanted for their child. Rebuilding was hard, but it gave her something to do. She had promised her mother that she wouldn’t leave Tallaght for the carpet beggars and Yankees. Her mother had passed away in October along with her only remaining sister at home. The doctor said both had gotten a dieses most likely from one of the rotting corpses we had cared for last year.
Demeter’s own sense of pride said those that didn’t help the confederates were as good as Yankees. She was able to keep the plantation and business working, since she had one brother who was a Yankee. There was a man in town and her parents dear friend the banker who helped make legal all the papers saying her yankee brother held everything until she turned 17 or got married. She had learned from her mother and father, and even at her fathers passing her mother leaned on her to run certain things. It was just going to be that much more of a challenge being a child still, and yet not able to be one.
Every other month she would ride into town with an envelope and go straight to the bank. This was another thing had been worked out. Her father often talked of his brother who had west upon arriving in the Americas. Her father had helped his brother start a business, but she wasn’t sure what they actually did. All she knew was that a rider with a single envelope came every other month and it ever only stated that it was time to check in at the bank once more. Each time she went, there would be a new stash of cash. Sometimes it was mixed with gold, but mostly it was US tendered cash. This last is what saved her families life as soon as confederate money became worthless.
1867
The Yankee troops had been given orders to again flood Savannah. Against all luck, one of her older brothers, the one who had fought for the yanks. Of all those who could have lived he was the one she wanted to kill. At the age of thirteen though she had no power though, and she had only promised not to turn it over to non-family.
Early in the year, Winifred and her family move west.
Maybe she could do that, her uncle was there somewhere. She had just lived through a war and kept an entire plantation and other businesses running. Granted the overseer at the businesses and on the property helped a great deal, but she still did a lot.
She only had a few more years, and then it was all hers. She could give him the plantation as a peace offering, and it wasn’t her fault even as the years passed he never checked how he held the land and money.
The small group who knew of the actual contract danced to hide the true amount of money, the true number of businesses, and that anything was not normal. Even when she turned 17 things went as they did before. She had to have a plan, and kicking him out may not work. The south was not her home anymore. The legal documents were changed and witnesses, so her brother got the plantation but nothing else.
1870
1870 sees the end to the careful balance she had been treading. She had catered to him, fixed the problems he made, made society accept him, let him fire all the new tutors she had been able to finally find except her favorite. Yet whatever she did to help him, he seemed to only get more angry. Finally, one night she found him trying to comfort their young niece on the loss of her parents five years earlier. She was like a sister to Demeter, and that broke the oxen’s back. The banker again was able to help her out. Through him, she was able to get passage for her niece back to Ireland and had already written to them of her niece’s arrival. The Flattery’s were returning as well, having lost too much in this promised new land. To repay them and make them feel indebted and hopefully tied to her niece more Demeter also paid for their only remaining child to cross the sea with them. Without her help, he would have to be left behind, or wait another few years.
1875
Finally her twentieth birthday came around. She had been preparing for months, but it felt like lifetimes. She lit a single candle and walked quietly down the stairs. She carried a small bag with the last of her mother’s jewels, and the small painting of her mother at her age. She readied her mare and blowing out the candle raced into town and to the birthday present she was giving herself- A new life.
In town she met the banker and one of her new friends. He was an elderly man with a woman who had helped us as children, but had taken a bullet early in the war to his leg. He knew he was out of luck here, and so was taking his family west. They had held Demeter’s growing pile of trunks and supplies on their small farm. She smiled as she hugged the banker, listening to his reassurances that he knew what to do. She promised to write and let him know each place she would be as far in advance as she could. He could then send the money on to her. She had been assured there was no way for her brother to get around what had been set up, but they knew she was worried.
She couldn’t stop thinking of home. The land was blood, was life, but it was done. She had given him the land. She had also given him a scar to mark his face. Just one single slice of her specially made blade had drawn blood and he had backed away, but it had been deep enough that it would remind him forever. Luckily he had not been near a gun, or she would have been dead on the spot. Neither did she wait around, for the sight of blood she had spilled turned her stomach most unpleasantly. Made it was the knowledge that she was leaving the very night, that let her push her luck so far.
Shaking her head she climbed large bell skirt and all into the driver seat of one wagon, and within moments off she set thinking once she found her uncle it would be like having her father back. The night was long, and if she could hit anything the heavy black revolver in her lap let her breath a little easier. He had to be the ones sending the money. She could smile at that. Though there was never a name attached only a single F, so like her fathers writing, but there was a rider, and each time the same rider. He never spoke, never even got close enough to see, but he was the same. Before she left, she left her own note on the post. The rider had been intrigued but had taken the note, she only hoped it made it to her uncle. She labeled it only F, writing inside, “Don’t send any more. Will be coming to you. F.”
July 1879-October 1879
She finally made her way to Maxwell, though she figured this had to be another short stopping point. Just look at this place- those outfits, the food, the smell, the whiskey, and worst of all the dust was covering her. Her quest had led her to deal with some strange and unsavory folks, but the past few weeks in Springer has shown her a whole new life. Not one she embraces or anything, but can tolerate.
She had traveled with many caravans, knowing a woman alone was just an easy target. As in every other town it would take her days to find the information she needed and even more to find another party headed to where she needed to go.
Last edited:
Laurel
First Post
Enemies:
-her brother
-any officers her brother knew
-her uncle
-whoever she actually wrote the letter to and had something with her father
Those are the most obvious off the top, but sheltered southern women in the 1800's are always getting into trouble by unobservance, seeing something they shouldn't and not getting it, or just plain ignorance or ticking the wrong people off
-her brother
-any officers her brother knew
-her uncle
-whoever she actually wrote the letter to and had something with her father
Those are the most obvious off the top, but sheltered southern women in the 1800's are always getting into trouble by unobservance, seeing something they shouldn't and not getting it, or just plain ignorance or ticking the wrong people off
Archon
First Post
Who Hates Cash?
in no particular order...
Various Mexican gangs, British colonial peace officers, The Triad, London police, The Clanton brothers, any peace keepers in the Arizona-New Mexico-Texas area countless married men (including European nobility ) and the Catholic Church.
in no particular order...
Various Mexican gangs, British colonial peace officers, The Triad, London police, The Clanton brothers, any peace keepers in the Arizona-New Mexico-Texas area countless married men (including European nobility
) and the Catholic Church.
cuteasaurus
First Post
I'm sorry...I'm a little confused. "The flame haired golden eyed little debutante..." What does golden eyed mean?
The_Universe
First Post
Why does the Catholic Church hate Cash?Archon said:in no particular order...
Various Mexican gangs, British colonial peace officers, The Triad, London police, The Clanton brothers, any peace keepers in the Arizona-New Mexico-Texas area countless married men (including European nobility
Also, communists and devotees of the New World Order hate cash.
The_Universe
First Post
She can shoot EMP blasts at stuff, like in the bond movie of the same name.cuteasaurus said:
Queen_Dopplepopolis
First Post
What about the Council on Foreign Relations?The_Universe said:
cuteasaurus
First Post
The_Universe said:
Hehe, yeah that occurred to me...or maybe she just had jaundice?
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