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| | | align="left" valign="top" width="100%" class="content" style="background-color: black;"| | | | align="left" valign="top" width="100%" class="content" style="background-color: black;"| |
| | * '''[[Basil A Utridge|Basil]]''' - No one could love him as much as he loves himself. There are some words that are never spoken. There are some things that should never be broken. | | * '''[[Basil A Utridge|Basil]]''' - No one could love him as much as he loves himself. There are some words that are never spoken. There are some things that should never be broken. |
| − | * '''[[Ophelia]]''' - There are some lives worth saving. Some sacrifices worth making. Some things even visions can't predict. | + | * '''[[Daniel Dross|Daniel]]''' - Every secret shared is dangerous, tremulous hands and reflections of memories so heavy that they threaten to drag us below the surface. What lies beneath? Will we find out? |
| | + | * '''[[Logan Brenner|Logan]]''' - Gilded palace and grand games and yet like a hanging bell, solitude resounds, the sound echoing in all that space. |
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| | + | ! class="title" align="right" | Past Contacts |
| | + | |- |
| | + | | align="left" valign="top" width="100%" class="content" style="background-color: black;"| |
| | * '''[[Grey]]''' - Shadows we were once, moving in sync, attached, shifting when the light shone upon us. Can a severed shadow be reclaimed? Peter Pan would have it so, but those are only stories, aren't they? | | * '''[[Grey]]''' - Shadows we were once, moving in sync, attached, shifting when the light shone upon us. Can a severed shadow be reclaimed? Peter Pan would have it so, but those are only stories, aren't they? |
| | + | * '''[[Ophelia]]''' - There are some lives worth saving. Some sacrifices worth making. Some things even visions can't predict. |
| | |- | | |- |
| | ! class="title" align="right" | Gallery | | ! class="title" align="right" | Gallery |
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| Tristan Darrow
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A new arrival in town, Tristan Darrow is a professor of Literature. He may be many other things, but a professor of Literature is what he is known as.
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| RP Hooks
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- Professor of Literature - He likes old books and poetry, creative writing and the arts.
- New in Town - He arrived very recently and as such is not a member of the local Freehold.
- Spy (Inconspicuous 3) - He has been a Knight of the Widow's walk for the better part of a decade but he keeps his business on the down low. The very down low.
- Harrow - An R.O.U.S. (Raven of Unusual Size) who is his constant companion. The bird's a little creepy, but then so is most of the company that Tristan keeps.
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| Contacts
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- Basil - No one could love him as much as he loves himself. There are some words that are never spoken. There are some things that should never be broken.
- Daniel - Every secret shared is dangerous, tremulous hands and reflections of memories so heavy that they threaten to drag us below the surface. What lies beneath? Will we find out?
- Logan - Gilded palace and grand games and yet like a hanging bell, solitude resounds, the sound echoing in all that space.
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| Past Contacts
|
- Grey - Shadows we were once, moving in sync, attached, shifting when the light shone upon us. Can a severed shadow be reclaimed? Peter Pan would have it so, but those are only stories, aren't they?
- Ophelia - There are some lives worth saving. Some sacrifices worth making. Some things even visions can't predict.
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| Gallery
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| Profile
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| Full Name:
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Tristan Darrow
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| Played By:
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Ben Barnes
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| Appears As:
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Tristan
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| Date of Birth:
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October 8, 1987
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| Apparent Age:
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Late 20s/Early 30s
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| Occupation:
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Professor of Literature
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| Virtue:
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Determined
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| Vice:
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Hedonistic
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| Template:
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Changeling
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| Keeper:
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The Chronicler of the Shifting Sands
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| Court:
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Autumn Court
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| Seeming:
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Darkling
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| Kiths:
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Antiquarian
Mirrorskin
Telluric
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| Entitlement:
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Knights of the Widow's Walk
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| Freehold
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None Yet
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| Motley:
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Terrible People
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| Soundtrack
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RUSH - Double Agent
- On the edge of sleep,
- I heard voices behind the door
- The known and the nameless,
- Familiar and faceless
- My angels and my demons at war
- Which one will lose - depends on what I choose
- Or maybe which voice I ignore
- Wilderness of mirrors
- Streets of cold desire
- My precious sense of honor
- Just a shield of rusty wire
- I hold against the chaos
- And the cross of holy fire
- Wilderness of mirrors
- So easy to deceive
- My precious sense of rightness
- Is sometimes so naive
- So that which I imagine
- Is that which I believe
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