A normal day in Anhk-Morpork (SL+)

[Tison]

** Intro
Ankh-Morpork isn't your ordinary city. It's the city where Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels take place! It has the elements of London in the 18th Century and modern day NYC mixed together into the funniest series ever! Who other than Terry Pratchett would have a city with an Assassin's Guild? Or a Thief's Guild?
Discworld is a little too vast for me to explain in one post, so click here for more info.

** Setting
The setting is in Ankh-Morpork in general. Click here for a zoom-inable map
The Shades are the worst part of town. It's not a good idea to go in there alone, especially if you're a copper! The streets have no names that I know of, so if you're in there, please don't make up names for the streets!
This is in a time where all of the streets are paved in cobblestones and there are no guns, no cars, no nothing. I do believe they have plumbing to some extent, not positive on that.

** Guilds
There are a TON of guilds, one for practically every job. Here are some of them-

• Assasin's Guild (Right next door to the Clown's Guild)
  this Guild is odd. People come to them to kill people, and depending on how important s/he is, for a price. Only two people cannot be killed, the patrician of the city, and the commander of the Watch. These shady people always wear black robes and take great pride in killing people. You can take comfort in that when you are about to die, you will at least know who paid the assassin, and how much s/he was paid to kill you.
  
• Thieves' Guild
  Again, not the most common guild to see in a city. They can steal whatever they want; the law permits people, if they have a thieves license, to steal whatever they desire. However you can pay a yearly fee to the Guild and you recieve a plaque to put over your door, preventing registered thieves from breaking and entering.
  
• Lawyers Guild
  Your normal guild, except it is led by a zombie
  
• Musician's Guild
  
• Architect's Guild
  

There are some other... organizations, not really guilds, but important nonetheless.

The Watch (Day & Night)
This is like a police force. The Day Watch pretty much sucks, but the Night Watch is just plain awesome. Normally it's led by a captain, and just like the police, for every station there is a captain. The Psuedopolis Yard Station is where most of the action takes place.

The Unseen University
This is like a guild for magicians, except they're pretty crazy in there
The librarian is an orangutan, but nobody except for new people notice it.

** Government

The awesomderful tyrant, Vetinari, was once an assassin. Now he is the patrician of the city, and manages to somehow keep it running smoothly
NOT PLAYABLE

Guild Leaders
These lead all of the little guilds. They meet to discuss matters in the patrician's manor-ish thing.
Playable

Other
Commander Vimes holds some say in the decisions, similar to the barons, earls and dukes of the city.
You can't play Vimes, but the "royalty" (barons, dukes, earls, etc.) are playable, though there shall be few of them.

** Species
The main species is human, though you can be a troll, dwarf, zombie, vampire, or a werewolf.
Human: nothing special about you guys

Troll: You're pretty thick, but your brain works faster the colder it is. When I say thick, I mean you can't count higher than 5. You hate dwarfs for the most part

Dwarf: You're short. If you're a girl, you DON'T SHOW IT! All dwarfs grow beards and appear masculine. You hate trolls for the most part.

Zombie: Most guilds don't have these...

Vampire: If you are a "civil" vampire, as in you try not to drink blood of humans, you are a black ribboner. If you are a black ribboner, you can NOT drink blood. Vampires are prohibited from joining the Watch, and probably the slaughterhouse wouldn't like you either. You despise werewolves.
When you turn into a bat, you turn into lots of bats. Not just one. And if you are a male, your clothes do reappear on you, but not for females.

Werewolf: Nothing incredible about you guys, but you can turn into a wolf whenever you want, you are only forced to be a wolf the night of the full moon. If you are in the Watch, it would be a good idea to wear your badge around your neck on a collar. Your clothes do not follow you around! You hate vampires.

** Bio form

Name:
Gender:
Age:
Species:
Guild:
Appearance:
Attitude:
Brief History:
Other?:


Name, gender and age: self explanatory
Species: choose from the above choices
Guild: Basically whatever your job is. If you're a baker, put Baker's Guild. If you're in the Watch, put Watch.
appearance, attitude: what does your character look like, act like?
Brief history: I don't need much, but if you want to post an all-out history, go right ahead.
Other?: Anything significant that isn't covered in those topics. For instance, if you are a dwarf and you're openly female, that's where you'd put that.

[*Linn*]

Ooh, I'd love to do this... Those books rocked my world.

Hey, you haven't mentioned them, but do you suppose I could be an Igor?

Name: Igor Velstok (I'm not sure if they have last names, but it can't hurt)
Gender: Male
Age: Technically, 31, though parts of him are anywhere from 16 to 74.
Species: Igor
Guild: Chef's Guild
Appearance: Tall for an igor, Igor stands at about a head under most humans. He is broad-shouldered and slightly hunch-backed. He displays a proud set of large stitches across his forehead, as well as numerous smaller stitches all over his body, which, unlike those on his head, are not cosmetic but hold the various bits of him together. He still has much of his own face, but his left cheek, right eye, and lower right chin are all 'spares'- tissue from other people that has been sewn on. His own skin has a slight greyish tinge, and is relatively dark, while the added skin is contrastingly pale. One of his eyes is larger and darker than the other. He wears a white apron, curiously blood-free, which despite being a fashion faux-pas for igors is a job necessity for him.
Attitude: One of the tiny number of igor chefs, Igor finds it very hurtful that humans, and for that matter members of any other species besides the occasional slumming Vampire, do not want to eat at an Igor's restauraunt. Despite this, he is a kind person, and eager to overcome cultural differences for a better Ankh-Morpork. He takes a great deal of pride in his cooking, going about it with the same surgical care that igors generally reserve for actual surgery. Igor is mildly cynical, but basically friendly.
Brief History: After observing the nature of cuisine in Ankh-Morpork, Igor grew up with a very firm idea that he wanted to do with his life- He wanted to introduce traditional igorish cooking to the city. He devoted his youth to learning and perfecting the various recepies of his culture, and then developed them to suit the tastes of the various other species of the city. His dishes can be ordered in rat, stone, with added blood or alternatively blood-free, 'human style' (everything chewable, no eyeballs, et cetera) or in the traditional 'igor style'- with all the nasty bits left in. His restauraunt was purchased for him by his father, a weathly Igor who, in his day, served under all the very most influential families of vampires. Business is good, but the customers are nearly all igors, which he wants desperately to change.
Other?: Being an igor, he speaks with a strong lisp, a uniform aspect of speech so ingrained into the culture of igors that it is included in the text of the menus.

[Tison]

Name: Aerin Von Lupin
Gender: Female
Age: 20
Species: Werewolf
Guild: Assasins (THE most awesome)
Appearance:
Well of course she has the usual black robes, so not much can be told by a stranger, but she has flaming red hair, accented by ice blue eyes. Her skin is not as light as most people in the city, more of a honey coloring. She is short at 5"3, with long limbs. She's left-handed, an unusual but useful trait.

As a wolf she takes on a onyx color, and has a long scar tracing from her left shoulder to her right flank. Her assasin's liscense hangs on her neck by a collar, but is not easily seen because of her long, dark fur. She always carries a knapsack that is attached to her back that includes her dark robes, if by chance she finds someone the guild wishes to exterminate. Her long, obviously pointed dagger is stored in it as well.

Attitude:
She never talks to ANYONE, except for when the situation, mainly when she's about to kill someone, demands it. Therefore, no one knows what happens in that dark, shrouded mind.

Brief History:
She was born and raised here in Ankh-Morpork, in the Shades, to be more precise. She worked in the post office for a number of years before she noticed how much she enjoyed killing. Here in Ankh-Morpork you can get paid to do your dream job, whatever it may be, so she joined the Assasin's guild. Her record is perfect; she has never failed to kill.

[Tison]

< do you want to start, or shall I? >

[*Linn*]

((OOC: Ahh- I missed your last post. Sorry. I shall, since I'm here.))

A dull, sunless Tuesday morning found Igor's restuaraunt entertaining only three customers, which was perhaps a blessing, since both of the waiters were on surgery leave. Igors didn't tend to get sick, or at least didn't tend to notice when they did, but there were often calls for them at odd hours to do a bit of emergency doctoring, and their code dictated that they respond.

Igor found himself alone, both waiting tables and cooking. He wouldn't have minded, but the two old vampires at table two had the look of real traditionalists- the type who were used to being served and not having to pay. Sighing, he tied a fresh apron around his waist, grabbed a pen and notepad, and left his kitchen sanctum, ready to take orders.

"Can I get you anything to drink, thir?" he asked, bent low in the traditional posture of subservience that vampires often expected. These two were not ribboners, and he had a nasty apprehension about what they were about to order.

"I don't suppose you do blood here, do you?" asked one, looking at him with distaste. Igor had long suspected that part of the reason his kind looked so shabby- shabby being a fairly kind word for it- was to make vampires look that much cooler in comparison. Nobody except elves could do cool like vampires could.

"I'm thorry, thir," said Igor, trying not to spit on them as he lisped, "Not human blood. Not for that purpothe, anyway. The watch wouldn't allow it. We've got a large thelection of animal blood, though, ath well ath a vegetarian thubthitute."

The vampires looked unimpressed, and ordered wine instead. As Igor returned to the kitchen, he heard one say to the other, "They're desperate to please, you see, but they can't run a high-class establishment. It's taken years to train ours to do things right. And of course you can't let them cook."

He gripped the bottle of fine, ancient Merlot the Vampires had chosen so hard that it almost shattered. That was not fair. This place was high-class, for Ankh-Morpork. Everything was immaculately clean, there were drapes and tablecloths and napkins, nothing had soot on it- by the city's standards that was positively posh. And he knew his own food*. He could cook- better than most of human chefs, and probably cheaper, no matter what species he was catering to. It was all to do with their snobbish prejudices- they were perfectly happy to have him put new organs in their bodies, but when it came to putting food on a plate they didn't trust him an inch.

-
*Sometimes personally.

[Tison]

(sorry about the wait; my muse abandoned me! xP and I tired to say substituted with a lisp and about swallowed my tongue! xD)

Aerin sighed. What an absolutely BORING day. The one day she had decided to show up for work, be that as it may, they had nothing for her. "...Well, I wanted to try out the newbies, you know, to make sure they're worth their license." was the guild leaders LAME excuse. He had a point, though, no one could call Aerin "new" to killing. If she had one golem for every successful kill, she could retire and let the hundreds of golems tend to her every need. Sadly, the rules forbid her to kill someone that she had not been payed to kill, so she could do nothing about her current situation.

She turned to leave the bleak, black and dusty HQ as a poorly concealed vampire swept in. Anger and hate as old as her race itself clouded her mind as she gazed upon her natural enemy. It, being the proper term for a vampire in Aerin's opinion, didn't seem to notice her presence and walked briskly up to the guild leader. Aerin noted that she would have to use the male term of 'it' as the vampire pulled a old, tattered piece of parchment from his robe, which dislodged it's hood enough to get a better glimpse of it's face. The werewolf grinned smugly as she realized the depth of the vampire's desire to kill. He was a Black ribboner, but it's face was old, starting to turn gray, and it obviously was in need of some human, or any other intelligent race, blood.

Vampires were not immortal, no matter how much blood they drank, but with just a pint of human blood they'll look like they're in their twenties, and tends to make them live longer. Aerin glared silently at the tall figure as it swept back out of the HQ, leaving a large trail of non-dust covered floor. "Please tell me it's a suicidal vampire, and that it wants help achieving it's goal." she said, smirking under her black hood. The guild leader only shook his head at astonishment. "Angua." he said, not looking up from the deteriorating parchment. Aerin's smirk only got wider.

[*Linn*]

((OOC: Heh. Thubthtitute. That's quite the tongue-twister.)

A bell jangled at the restauraunt front, and Igor, bringing the Vampires their wine, looked up to see the halo of straight blond hair and the flawless, handsome form of Sargeant Angua, of the Night Watch, enter the restuaraunt. He smiled immediately, a lopsided but welcoming smile that stretched the stitches across his cheek. Angua was his only customer, besides the very, very occasional visit from Sam Vimes, who wasn't either Vampire or Igor. He gave her the private back room that was usually reserved for young couples who looked ready to start swapping fingers at any moment*, so that she wouldn't have to eat near Vampires. Angua came here, every so often, when, as she put it, 'the wolf got hungry'. She always ordered the same thing- Ribs, very rare and extra bloody, with lots of Igor's patent, mysetrious and delicious sauce. She'd said that his place was the only spot she'd found that could do it, metaphorically but not physically, dirty.

Igor took it as an enourmous compliment, and was extra-attentive towards her whenever she came. It wouldn't have been inaccurate to say that he had a very mild crush on her, because, as with humans and Vampires, it was more of a cultural difference than anything else. But he was quite aware of the silliness of it, since everybody knew Carrot was the man for her and anyway there was an Igorina who up on Younge Street who specialized in hand surgeries who had been giving him promising looks since she'd reattatched his thumb for him last week. She'd done a good job, too; you couldn't tell at all. So he simply settled for admiring Angua's taste, and doting on her when she came.

He poured the Vampires' wine, leaving them with the bottle, and scuttled over to greet her.

-
*Igor courtship was something that no other species would ever willingly understand.