It is with a heavy heart that I have decided to hand off administration to someone else. A contact of mine offered to take it off my plate and I've agreed. I'm simply tired of idiots trying to twist my words, lying about how things happened, leaving things out, or trying to claim after the fact that things that were clearly intended as threats were not. I just don't need the headache. I don't even play on the site, nor profit from it. It fact, it costs me money for the server every month (I only take donations for the domain name, which is a separate expense). The new administrator is not now, nor ever was, a White Wolf player, much less a member of the old chats or friends with any random ones of you. Whether they open the site back up or keep it closed will be entirely their prerogative and nothing to do with me. Also, who they ban/unban will also be in their purview, not mine. With the exception of the few bad apples who like to spread unfounded lies, I've enjoyed talking to you all and my time administering the site. Over the next few weeks to months the site will likely be moved to a new server. At some point in the near future the new administrator will likely post their own message. To clarify: The site is NOT shutting down, someone else is just taking over running it. Were they to decide not to do it anymore, the chats would come back to me.
What appears to only be an abandoned, run down warehouse to the untrained mortals eyes is to Fae eyes a lovely bed and breakfast, almost New England in style and charm. (This is a Changeling Chat Room)There are 0 people here The most recent statement was made about 35 hours ago.
Lady Kathy, Fiona Satyr Grump: ((good night and good weekend too))
: *smurgles*
Saul *Saytr gothi 'Magician'*: *His wayfare skills weak and rusty, with flares of glamour rich with inspired sources but handled bluntly like a club, Saul returns once more down the familiar trods leading to the freehold, and the aging 'gothboi' makes his path somewhat clumsily back into the realms of the Freehold, making sure to enter the place with a flare of cloak-like coat and a twirl of his cane, only to discover that his attempt at a flashy entrance is wasted on all but the most innoccous corner chimera and ceiling spider. Looking a little like a Sluagh, the black-leather-and fishnets Saytr wears too much jewlery and makeup, and the top hat he wears ALMOST hides his horns, poking out from below its rims*
Saul *Saytr gothi : "Um...Tadaah!" He says to no one in particular. Its been at least four or five years since he was here last, and like it or not the gothy satyr has aged, and isn't far from only being described as a grump, he still retains the freshness of a teenager in places, with skin soft (from avoiding sunlight) haircut wild (like the rock that inspired it) and eyes bright. Were anyone here, they may detect the accent; Saul is clearly a foreigner, and his english shows it. "...hmm." Muttering to himself absently when it seems theres no one around. "So much for the population density of the states...."
Saul *Saytr gothi : Clearly not having considered the possibility that this place could be empty and deserted, Saul frowns, wondering if the journey here, and the resources he expended to make it, were a waste, and the black of his lips (maybeline lipliner, matte) twist into a slightly concerned frown, before he clips and clops over to the bar, noting the animate gloves and, assuming they let him, once more helps himself to several glass bottles of ginger beer, cracking open one with care for his lipstick as he drinks it, and storing two more in the billows of his big pocketed long leather jacket. His eyebrows furrow as he looks around the emptyness. "Hello darkness, my old friend...." He hums almost tunefully to himself, leaving a few golden but mundane minted coins on the bench. They're embellished with kiwis on the back.
Saul *Saytr gothi : pose sniffs, imagining he dectects a faint whiff of perfume.
Saul *Saytr gothi*: Saul sighs, and trots toward the exit, ready at least to explore the streets of the city before choosing a new path. He lingers, vain as always (or is it judgemental?) at his appearance in the wall mirror, a sad frown on his face as he pitys his broken heart, perhaps another cause for his sigh. Shaking his head sadly, he dips his head down, pale features illuminated by the lighter for his now lit cigarette, smelling sweetly of clove smoke as he exhales another sigh, reguarding his reflection critically as he 'palms' the lighter and dissapears it theatrically, before slumping his shoulders and heading out, into the summer night air.
: (OH MY GOD, SAUL! HI! THIS IS A JEFF PLAYER!))
: ~_~.oO(*Smurgles*)
: *peeks and waves*
Lady Kathy, Fiona Satyr Grump: *walks into the freehold to relax some*
Lady Kathy, Fiona Satyr Grump: *walks over to the bar, smiling to the gloves before stepping back behind it to check on supplies*
Lady Kathy, Fiona Satyr Grump: *makes some notes behind the bar before moving back into the kitchen*
Lady Kathy, Fiona Satyr Grump: *shuffles around in the kitchen, noting stuff*
Lady Kathy, Fiona Satyr Grump: *steps back out of the kitchen and then turns moving into the med wing*
Lady Kathy, Fiona Satyr Grump: *steps out of the med wing, typing an email on my phone to get supplies ordered and the place filled*
Lady Kathy, Fiona Satyr Grump: *moves back to the bar, sitting on a stool, making the email to send*
Lady Kathy, Fiona Satyr Grump: *sends it then looks around the freehold*
Lady Kathy, Fiona Satyr Grump: *smiles to the gloves, having them get me a drink*
Lady Kathy, Fiona Satyr Grump: *drinks quietly, glancing to the garden*