[Cecil Gershwin Palmer]

Oh what news! So, about Tartarus’ troop? Will you allow it? I think there are several people who would be interested in such a thing, myself included.

[Cecil Gershwin Palmer]

I want to be Erwin.

[Cecil Gershwin Palmer]

Rasputin clenched his teeth to avoid responding to that first statement. This was why he hated Stranger children. (And indeed, nearly all Strangers were children because it was rare that they’d live to adulthood.) It was understandable that weak, feeble humans would be so immature and guided by their emotions. And warlocks, though left cold and soulless by their contract, at least had the self control to use such great power in a productive way. But this boy; nothing but a loose cannon. Willing to take a life merely to be noticed, and endowed with the powers to do so easily whenever he liked. The Strangers were all alike, selfish uncouth beings who acted on nothing but their own feelings. “You’ve a short memory, Matthew.” He scoffed, kneeling to look him in the eye. “Don’t you remember what your people did before the arena? All the innocents who died then? Your kind have always been killers. You should thank us for trying to contain it.” The warlock smirked, standing up. “Imagine, catching such an elusive murderer and letting him go. Ah well, they do say forgiveness is divine.” He made a slight gesture over the vampire’s head, putting him to a deep sleep. “Just drop him in an alley or something.” The guards nodded and carried the unconscious child out of the room, the collar around his neck still glowing steadily.

[Cecil Gershwin Palmer]

Gregory Rasputin (generally goes by his last name for obvious reasons)
The head warlock of the king’s army, as well as the king’s personal bodyguard, both of which he does very well at. He’s cunning and determined both to protect the royal family and possibly to overthrow them if the chance arises. Despite being rather short fused and malicious, he can be a very charming and funny guy. His men are loyal to him and the king trusts him. After being attacked by a werewolf in his early years in the army, his right arm was completely shattered, as which point he replaced his humerus, radius, and ulna bones with the broken sections of his staff, enabling him to cast spells and curses merely by raising his arm, unlike the rest of the warlock army with still uses staffs. He’s also a werewolf now, but shhhhh. Nobody knows. He’d lose his job if they knew. Rasputin is fairly good looking, albeit a little shifty, he’s tall with curly dark hair and a beard and usually wears glasses when he reads.

[Cecil Gershwin Palmer]

“What is he doing here?” The head warlock growled angrily as he entered the room, the doors slamming open without him needing to touch them. He nodded to the guards on either side of the door and they grabbed the vampire, holding him in place while Rasputin stormed over to glare at him. Anastasia watched raptly, though still managing to keep eating despite the ruckus. “You told us to take him to the princess.” The guard said warily. “I told you to TELL him you were taking him to the princess.” He roared, shaking the lesser warlock. “Not actually do it!… But no matter, this works just as well.” He smiled, and traced one hand over Mathew’s neck, thick ribbons of molten steel forming along it, quickly building and cooling into a strong, much stronger than usually needed, collar. “You’ve been running for a long time, haven’t you, Mathew?” As he spoke, glowing blue etching began to appear on the steel, spells and curses in some arcane language to give far more control over the prisoner than any metal shackles could. “Running from the human army, running from my warlocks, running from your own repulsive fate” he pulled back and waved his hand, sending a blast of electricity coursing through the collar, enough to kill a lesser stranger, but just enough to severely weaken Mathew “I’d say it’s a surprise to see you give yourself up to such an obvious trap. But then… Everyone has to stop running sooner or later.”

[Cecil Gershwin Palmer]

Having no qualms about leaving Alois unprotected, Claude turned away to do as he was told. Several groups of people back away as he walks past, through the gap he glances at Sebastian, posed tensely as if ready to throw himself in front of his little master at a moment’s notice. What an excessively loyal fool. The Trancy butler retrieved a glass of cider as ordered, but lingered near the refreshment table, he had no desire to get involved in this cat fight.

[Cecil Gershwin Palmer]

A moment later, Alois’ own butler appeared, walking through the door before Grell could think to close it. “Thank you for your hospitality. My master insisted on coming.” Claude said, looking through his glasses at Sebastian with an expression that said anything but gratitude. Then, seeming to remember why he was here, he followed his master.

[Cecil Gershwin Palmer]

I’ll be Claude

[Cecil Gershwin Palmer]

“No thanks, I’m trying to watch my weight.” Cecil laughed, sitting down across from L. He was already very thin and gangly, so a diet was hardly necessary. “The name’s Cecil Baldwin by the way. What’s yours?” He winked as he picked up the fancy drink that Jane had so generously left behind. The swirled delicate designs of his tattoos flowed slowly across his arms, twisting and convulsing like the tentacles of a squid or octopus.

[Cecil Gershwin Palmer]

“Heavens no!” Cecil exclaimed, shutting the laptop and handing it back to L. “You only just met her, you said so yourself. You don’t owe this… girl, any more favors. Especially not after THAT display. Besides” He said warmly, slowing down from ranting as he put one hand on the detective’s arm. “Didn’t you come here to relax? Let someone else play slave babysitter for a while.” He smiled encouragingly.

[Cecil Gershwin Palmer]

“Thanks.” Cecil took the device gingerly, giving Jane a dirty look. “Your little girlfriend’s quite the firecracker, isn’t she?” It was not meant entirely nicely. He turned around and examine the menu. Seeing how the barista was unresponsive, he guessed they’d probably have to figure things out for themselves until the man was ready to do his job again.

[Cecil Gershwin Palmer]

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” Cecil watched eagerly, having never witnessed a demonic possession firsthand before. At least he thought this was probably a demonic possession. It was hard to tell without having seen one. He pulled out his phone and turned on the camera, he’d definitely want a video of this. He sat on the counter, trying to get a good angle.

[Cecil Gershwin Palmer]

“Well, well” Cecil remarked, looking at the broken door as he stepped through the new hole in the wall. He’d seen the odd scene from across the street when he was walking to his car and decided to go see what was going on, after all, odd was his speciality. He reached up batted at the bell above the shattered doorframe before going over to the counter. “What’s your special today?” He asked the guy behind the register, forcing him to look up from his phone. Kids these days and their technology. Cecil remembered when he was a teenager, they had to speak to people face to face. Or face to blank visage, if you were talking to most of the basketball team.

[Cecil Gershwin Palmer]

Cecil Baldwin from Welcome To Night Vale. That’s really all that needs to be said since he’s a canon character. I don’t think there’s too much you need to know, but he’s used to weird stuff and he’s pretty friendly unless he outright hates you. Which is unlikely

[Cecil Gershwin Palmer]

Carlos, Carlos, wherefore art thou, Perfect Carlos?

I’d like to find a Carlos to roleplay various misadventures with. As you probably guessed from the forum title, this will most likely get NSFW. Sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities, admin. But don’t worry, future Carlos, I promise this will involve more than just PWP. Expect lots of Night Vale weirdness and unplanned road trips into other dimensions, or at least other towns. You know what I mean. Private message me if you think you might be the the one!