Vixienne Devereaux

2017-09-17T15:17:04Z

Mayahuel:

{{Character
| faction = neutral
| status = pc
| species = bee
| player = Vixienne Devereaux
| nickname = Vixienne
| image = Vixmed.jpg
| organization =
| job_title =
| aliases = Vixienne Devereaux
| twitter =
| gender = F
| age = Approximately 225
| nationality = USA
| residence = Atlanta
|}}

=• The Beginning •=

"''Definitions belong to the definers, not the defined.''" -Toni Morrison

Most folks would peg me as barely old enough to drink. Truth is I'm older than most of the graves in Kingsmouth. I quit counting the years once it became clear that they were of no consequence to me. I bet you’d never guess to look at me that I was murdered in 1815. Sweet as cane sugar with a disarming smile and eyes made of that first glimpse of hot summer sky...I've been called ''Angel'' and ''Baby Girl'' more times that I can count. You can call me whatever you want. It won't matter in the end anyway. It never does.

My daddy was born a slave in the same year that a group of free white men declared their independence. His name was Gabriel, like the archangel. What I know about how he lived and died is mostly from what I've read. What I actually recall of the man is how beautiful his voice was when he would say my name and sing to my mother on the rare occasions that we saw him. My mother wasn't anyone fancy. Irish and indentured, she'd already endured a lifetime of indignities by the time I was born.

They hanged my daddy on October 10, 1800. It was my sixth birthday. They made all of us watch him swing. The morning sun crafted angel wings behind him from my tears. That night we ran, my mother and I, as far as we could run. She wept for him every night of our journey. We finally ended up in Old Devereaux, Georgia. My mother dried her tears and then mine. She told me to never speak of my father or our old life again.

My mother worked in the office of a small pottery company and I eventually became the teacher in our small town. In spite of everything we'd lost, we managed to make a small happy place for ourselves together. I passed for who I needed to be for both our sakes. Everything changed the night the deacon’s son came calling and found me home alone. When Mother found my broken lifeless body she finally went mad in the old ways of her own people. They said she pulled my body out into the treeline, howling and chanting over me for three days solid.

She made her way to the swamp witch named Auntie Zee near Milledgeville with my corpse. For the first time since his death, my mother spoke to the Hoodoo woman about my father. My daddy had been dead for fifteen years but even in Georgia people still knew his name. Folks were still angry over what they'd done to him. Mother begged her to take us to a place deep in the swamp, to a place they said could cheat even death. The old ancestors' mud needed blood and my mother gladly offered up her own throat so I could live. I came back the next full moon to nothing but old Auntie Zee, my mother's pine coffin, and the memory of my own murder.

I spent the next two moons vomiting out slough mixed with the rest of my broken heart. The good in me was gone. No regrets. Goodness had been my affliction and I was finally cured. I packed a small bag and headed for Atlanta. On the way, I made a late night visit to that deacon's boy. After that I felt right as rain.

=• RP Info •=

Vixienne is a ''returned'' of unknown provenance...an odd mix of Afro-Caribbean and Celtic magic. She looks sweet but is not a good person. She was once but she is not now. Nothing you will do can change that. She is NSFW. She is not going to do anything but hurt you in the end. She won't feel bad about it, she won't regret anything she did or did not do, and she won't care in the least about how it affected you. It is always about what she wants. No matter how natural or coincidental her actions seem, EVERYTHING is calculated. She's a grifter through and through.

[[File:Vixcollagesm.jpg]]

=• OCC Info •=

Vixienne is definitely not going to be everyone's flavor and is probably best suited for those who enjoy the the darker seedy side of the secret world.

A few things that are helpful to know about RP with Vixienne:

I have no problem with mature themed RP but absolutely no interest in wank fodder for its own sake. I am interested in finding long term RP partners for story/forum RP along with in-game. If you are smart, a good writer, and like the long RP story arc with steady partners then we probably will have a lot of fun with our characters.
I do not abide racism, sexism, xenophobia, homophobia or transphobia...basically anything that would make you seem like an ignorant asshole to me in real life. If you are not of age to buy your own liquor, cigarettes, join the military, or vote in your home country that means I'm old enough to be your mom...so no, just no.

If you are looking for quick casual interaction without more, Vixienne will always be friendly and social. Most people who deal with her superficially think she's a real sweetheart. It's the ones who stick around longer who sometimes see the worst of what she can be.

=• RP Hooks •=

You may be interested in RP with Vixienne if:

You run in shady places with shady people who do shady shit

You are a practioner of dark magic and need a partner in crime

You got a confidence game or any other sort of illicit activity going

You want to be duped, corrupted, or have your heart broken

You are a nocturnal Atlantian who happens to have seen her before

If you think you might be interested, just hit her up and have a chat. Easy enough, right?


<headertabs/>

Vixienne Devereaux

2017-09-17T14:59:33Z

Mayahuel:

{{Character
| faction = neutral
| status = pc
| species = bee
| player = Vixienne Devereaux
| nickname = Vixienne
| image = Vixmed.jpg
| organization =
| job_title =
| aliases =
| twitter =
| gender = F
| age = 224
| nationality = USA
| residence = Atlanta
|}}

=• The Beginning •=

"''Definitions belong to the definers, not the defined.''" -Toni Morrison

Most folks would peg me as barely old enough to drink. Truth is I'm older than most of the graves in Kingsmouth. I quit counting the years once it became clear that they were of no consequence to me. I bet you’d never guess to look at me that I was murdered in 1815. Sweet as cane sugar with a disarming smile and eyes made of that first glimpse of hot summer sky...I've been called ''Angel'' and ''Baby Girl'' more times that I can count. You can call me whatever you want. It won't matter in the end anyway. It never does.

My daddy was born a slave in the same year that a group of free white men declared their independence. His name was Gabriel, like the archangel. What I know about how he lived and died is mostly from what I've read. What I actually recall of the man is how beautiful his voice was when he would say my name and sing to my mother on the rare occasions that we saw him. My mother wasn't anyone fancy. Irish and indentured, she'd already endured a lifetime of indignities by the time I was born.

They hanged my daddy on October 10, 1800. It was my sixth birthday. They made all of us watch him swing. The morning sun crafted angel wings behind him from my tears. That night we ran, my mother and I, as far as we could run. She wept for him every night of our journey. We finally ended up in Old Devereaux, Georgia. My mother dried her tears and then mine. She told me to never speak of my father or our old life again.

My mother worked in the office of a small pottery company and I eventually became the teacher in our small town. In spite of everything we'd lost, we managed to make a small happy place for ourselves together. I passed for who I needed to be for both our sakes. Everything changed the night the deacon’s son came calling and found me home alone. When Mother found my broken lifeless body she finally went mad in the old ways of her own people. They said she pulled my body out into the treeline, howling and chanting over me for three days solid.

She made her way to the swamp witch named Auntie Zee near Milledgeville with my corpse. For the first time since his death, my mother spoke to the Hoodoo woman about my father. My daddy had been dead for fifteen years but even in Georgia people still knew his name. Folks were still angry over what they'd done to him. Mother begged her to take us to a place deep in the swamp, to a place they said could cheat even death. The old ancestors' mud needed blood and my mother gladly offered up her own throat so I could live. I came back the next full moon to nothing but old Auntie Zee, my mother's pine coffin, and the memory of my own murder.

I spent the next two moons vomiting out slough mixed with the rest of my broken heart. The good in me was gone. No regrets. Goodness had been my affliction and I was finally cured. I packed a small bag and headed for Atlanta. On the way, I made a late night visit to that deacon's boy. After that I felt right as rain.

=• RP Info •=

Vixienne is a ''returned'' of unknown provenance...an odd mix of Afro-Caribbean and Celtic magic. She looks sweet but is not a good person. She was once but she is not now. She is NSFW. She is not going to do anything but hurt you in the end. She won't feel bad about it, she won't regret anything she did or did not do, and she won't care in the least about how it affected you. It is always about what she wants. No matter how natural or coincidental her actions seem, EVERYTHING is calculated. She's a grifter through and through.

[[File:Vixcollagesm.jpg]]

=• OCC Info •=

Vixienne is definitely not going to be everyone's flavor and is probably best suited for those who enjoy the the darker seedy side of the secret world.

A few things that are helpful to know about RP with Vixienne:

I have no problem with mature themed RP but absolutely no interest in wank fodder for its own sake. I am interested in finding long term RP partners for story/forum RP along with in-game. If you are smart, a good writer, and like the long RP story arc with steady partners then we probably will have a lot of fun with our characters.
I do not abide racism, sexism, xenophobia, homophobia or transphobia...basically anything that would make you seem like an ignorant asshole to me in real life. If you are not of age to buy your own liquor, cigarettes, join the military, or vote in your home country that means I'm old enough to be your mom...so no, just no.

If you are looking for quick casual interaction without more, Vixienne will always be friendly and social. Most people who deal with her superficially think she's a real sweetheart. It's the ones who stick around longer who sometimes see the worst of what she can be.

=• RP Hooks •=

You may be interested in RP with Vixienne if:

You run in shady places with shady people who do shady shit
You are a practioner of dark magic and need a partner in crime
You got a confidence game or any other sort of illicit activity going
You want to be duped, corrupted, or have your heart broken
You are a nocturnal Atlantian who happens to have seen her before

If you think you might be interested, just hit her up and have a chat. Easy enough, right?


<headertabs/>

File:Vixcollagesm.jpg

2017-09-17T14:57:35Z

Mayahuel:

Vixienne Devereaux

2017-09-17T05:36:38Z

Mayahuel:

{{Character
| faction = neutral
| status = pc
| species = bee
| player = Vixienne Devereaux
| nickname = Vixienne
| image = Vixmed.jpg
| organization =
| job_title =
| aliases =
| twitter =
| gender = F
| age = 224
| nationality = USA
| residence = Atlanta
|}}

=• The Beginning •=

"''Definitions belong to the definers, not the defined.''" -Toni Morrison

Most folks would peg me as barely old enough to drink. Truth is I'm older than most of the graves in Kingsmouth. I quit counting the years once it became clear that they were of no consequence to me. I bet you’d never guess to look at me that I was murdered in 1815. Sweet as cane sugar with a disarming smile and eyes made of that first glimpse of hot summer sky...I've been called ''Angel'' and ''Baby Girl'' more times that I can count. You can call me whatever you want. It won't matter in the end anyway. It never does.

My daddy was born a slave in the same year that a group of free white men declared their independence. His name was Gabriel, like the archangel. What I know about how he lived and died is mostly from what I've read. What I actually recall of the man is how beautiful his voice was when he would say my name and sing to my mother on the rare occasions that we saw him. My mother wasn't anyone fancy. Irish and indentured, she'd already endured a lifetime of indignities by the time I was born.

I was six years old when they hanged my daddy. He swung from the gallows. The morning sun made angel wings behind him from my tears. That night we ran, my mother and I, as far as we could run. She wept for him every night of our journey. We finally ended up in Old Devereaux, Georgia. My mother dried her tears and then mine. She told me to never speak of my father again.

My mother worked in the office of a small pottery company and I eventually became the teacher in our small town. In spite of everything we'd lost, we managed to make a happy life for ourselves together. I passed for who I needed to be for both our sakes. Everything changed the night the deacon’s son came calling and found me home alone. Mother found my broken lifeless body and went mad in the old ways of her own people. They said she pulled my body out into the treeline, howling and chanting over me for three days solid.

She made her way to the swamp witch named Auntie Zee near Milledgeville with my corpse. For the first time since his death, my mother spoke to the Hoodoo woman about my father. She begged the woman to take us to the secret place where the ancestors' mud could cheat death. She begged the old woman to bring me back. The swamp mud needed blood and my mother was the one who offered up her own throat so I could live. I came back the next full moon to nothing but old Auntie Zee, my mother's coffin, and the memory of my own death.

I spent the next two moons vomiting out the rest of my broken heart. The good in me was gone. No regrets. Goodness had been my affliction and I was finally cured. I packed my bags and headed for Atlanta. On the way there I made a late night visit to that deacon's boy. After that I felt right as rain.

=• The Secret War •=
How did your character become part of the Secret World, and what have they been up to since then?

=• From TSW to SWL •=
If your character existed in TSW (The Secret World) before coming to SWL (Secret World Legends) -- how do you treat the transition? Are they exactly the same? Did they suffer memory loss? Are they some 'alternate reality' version of themselves?

=• Known Associates/Affiliations •=
Everyone knows someone. What groups, people, friends, and relatives does your character have ties to? Would other characters know them from a favorite hangout or a particular organization?

=• Special Notes •=
Are they demon-possessed? A skilled Elementalist? Want to describe their awesome powers or trademark equipment they always carry? This is the place to do it.

=• SECTION TITLE GOES HERE •=
If you want to add more sections, just copy this block and change the title/text to whatever you want! But please don't edit below this line!


<headertabs/>

Vixienne Devereaux

2017-09-17T05:35:57Z

Mayahuel: Created page with "{{Character | faction = neutral | status = pc | species = bee | player = Vixienne Devereaux | nickname = Vixienne | image = Vixmed.jpg | organization = | job_title = | alia..."

{{Character
| faction = neutral
| status = pc
| species = bee
| player = Vixienne Devereaux
| nickname = Vixienne
| image = Vixmed.jpg
| organization =
| job_title =
| aliases =
| twitter =
| gender = F
| age = 224
| nationality = USA
| residence = Atlanta
|}}

=• The Beginning •=

"''Definitions belong to the definers, not the defined.''" -Toni Morrison

Most folks would peg me as barely old enough to drink. Truth is I'm older than most of the graves in Kingsmouth. I quit counting the years once it became clear that they were of no consequence to me. I bet you’d never guess to look at me that I was murdered in 1815. Sweet as cane sugar with a disarming smile and eyes made of that first glimpse of hot summer sky...I've been called ''Angel'' and ''Baby Girl'' more times that I can count. You can call me whatever you want. It won't matter in the end anyway. It never does.

My daddy was born a slave in the same year that a group of free white men declared their independence. His name was Gabriel, like the archangel. What I know about how he lived and died is mostly from what I've read. What I actually recall of the man is how beautiful his voice was when he would say my name and sing to my mother on the rare occasions that we saw him. My mother wasn't anyone fancy. Irish and indentured, she'd already endured a lifetime of indignities by the time I was born.

I was six years old when they hanged my daddy. He swung from the gallows. The morning sun made angel wings behind him from my tears. That night we ran, my mother and I, as far as we could run. She wept for him every night of our journey. We finally ended up in Old Devereaux, Georgia. My mother dried her tears and then mine. She told me to never speak of my father again.

My mother worked in the office of a small pottery company and I eventually became the teacher in our small town. In spite of everything we'd lost, we managed to make a happy life for ourselves together. I passed for who I needed to be for both our sakes. Everything changed the night the deacon’s son came calling and found me home alone. Mother found my broken lifeless body and went mad in the old ways of her own people. They said she pulled my body out into the treeline, howling and chanting over me for three days solid.

She made her way to the swamp witch named Auntie Zee near Milledgeville with my corpse. For the first since his death, my mother spoke to the Hoodoo woman about my father. She begged the woman to take us to the secret place where the ancestors' mud could cheat death. She begged the old woman to bring me back. The swamp mud needed blood and my mother was the one who offered up her own throat so I could live. I came back the next full moon to nothing but old Auntie Zee, my mother's coffin, and the memory of my own death.

I spent the next two moons vomiting out the rest of my broken heart. The good in me was gone. No regrets. Goodness had been my affliction and I was finally cured. I packed my bags and headed for Atlanta. On the way there I made a late night visit to that deacon's boy. After that I felt right as rain.

=• The Secret War •=
How did your character become part of the Secret World, and what have they been up to since then?

=• From TSW to SWL •=
If your character existed in TSW (The Secret World) before coming to SWL (Secret World Legends) -- how do you treat the transition? Are they exactly the same? Did they suffer memory loss? Are they some 'alternate reality' version of themselves?

=• Known Associates/Affiliations •=
Everyone knows someone. What groups, people, friends, and relatives does your character have ties to? Would other characters know them from a favorite hangout or a particular organization?

=• Special Notes •=
Are they demon-possessed? A skilled Elementalist? Want to describe their awesome powers or trademark equipment they always carry? This is the place to do it.

=• SECTION TITLE GOES HERE •=
If you want to add more sections, just copy this block and change the title/text to whatever you want! But please don't edit below this line!


<headertabs/>

File:Vixmed.jpg

2017-09-17T05:16:25Z

Mayahuel:

Knightsbridge Consulting

2017-09-14T13:55:55Z

File:Knightsbridge Logo 3.png

2017-09-14T04:41:43Z

Mayahuel:

2017-08-07T15:03:42Z

Mayahuel:

{{Character
| faction = neutral
| status = pc
| species = bee
| player = Mayahuel
| nickname = Mayahuel
| image = Maya1.jpg
| organization = Sun & Moon, Inc.
| job_title = Partner
| aliases = none
| twitter = @mayahuelb
| gender = F
| age = Thirtysomething
| nationality = Mexico/USA
| residence = London
|}}

=• Past, Present, Future •=

Maya may seem familiar to you, but you can't ever quite place where you've seen her before. She is shy but friendly, definitely a woman who is more comfortable observing others than having the attention focused on her. She lives near the park in a small cottage with her querido Berry Hewes. They also keep an apartment upstairs from their gallery--Sun & Moon, Inc.--in Ealdwic. She carries herself with the quiet gracefulness of a woman who is beloved and content. Most would never guess by looking at her the dark years she suffered through to finally find her bright place in this secret world. Those who get glimpses of her true fierceness are usually friend or foe. The latter rarely survive. If you take the time to get to know her there will be that moment--the one where she smiles at you and all you can think of is how you never noticed before how beautiful she really is. She'll break your heart a little in all the best ways.

When she left Seoul, she barely knew her name. It's a story she keeps mostly to herself--the story of who she was when they tried to convince her she wasn't anyone at all. The story she will be pleased to tell you now is one of unexpected magic, the sort that happens without planning or persuasion. She will tell you how they never expected to fall in love but they did--and now they can't imagine not being together. They are an odd pairing that works in spite of the thousand or so years age difference. The two of them together will make you believe in happy endings even in this secretive cynical age.

Those who find themselves in need of their services come to them not just for art and design. Sun & Moon, Inc. is where you go when you have a problem that needs to be solved...permanently. Perhaps you come to them through a reference who already knew of Berry and his reputation for wet work as a consummate old school professional. Perhaps you heard rumors of a certain couple who can handle particularly tough assignments that fall outside normal faction business. Maybe you let someone know what you needed and they quietly slipped you a card with a number. Whatever your story--whether you have a vacation home you need decorated, an art commission you'd like to discuss, or a petty tyrant who needs dispatching--they are in business of taking care of business. And business is good...very, very good.

=• The Secret War •=
Mayahuel Bailey is the daughter of two Templars-James Bailey (deceased) and Perlita Garcia. Mayahuel’s mother was identified in the normal course of business as being descended from a Huastecan deity by the name of Tlazolteotl, a fierce goddess who had many talents. Tlazolteotl was also known as the Filth-Eater--something of little interest to anyone until the London incident. The factions had been grudgingly working together for several years on clandestine projects to train identified progeny of the old gods for various ends. Before Maya was even born, ironclad agreements had been put into place as to her placement if she ever showed any promise related to her maternal bloodline.

Maya’s young childhood was spent mostly with in London with her father. Her mother was forced to return to Mexico when Maya was a toddler. They saw each other rarely until Maya moved at fifteen to the southwestern U.S. to live with her maternal grandmother. Once Maya came of age she returned to London against her mother's wishes with the expectation that she would begin her training with the Templars just as her parents had done before her. While back in London, she fell in love with a promising young Templar agent named Jeremiah Clarke. The couple was blissfully happy together until Jeremy became gravely ill shortly after his return from an archaeological expedition to Egypt.

He was immediately whisked away to a secret location underneath the city but Maya was determined to find him. She somehow managed to bypass security measures and broke into the hidden infirmary, completely disregarding the quarantine. When the Securi-Med teams finally got back into the room with the likely intention of dispatching both Mayahuel and her young guard, they were shocked to see the both of them curled together sleeping as if nothing had happened. Neither Maya nor Jeremy had any memory of the night, but footage from security cameras showed Maya had locked herself in with him, crawling into his bed and whispering to him for hours in a language the Templars had never heard.

Whatever it was--the power of love, the will of a little demigoddess, or a scientific anomaly--Jeremy was cured. Clean. In spite of attempts to keep the incident secret, the Dragon immediately notified Richard Sonnac it was time to honor the bargain made years prior. Maya was summarily brought into one of the Templar offices, sedated and handed over to agents from Seoul. The "training" she endured there was part of what the factions named The Ablution Project. Regardless of any models or protocols tried, Maya was never able to replicate what had occurred with Jeremy in London. This did not keep her handlers from pushing her to breaking points again and again. It was a brutal experience, one that left her with no memory or connection with anyone when she was finally allowed to leave. There was much struggle and heartache before she finally found her way to the person she is now. In the end, love was what saved her and love is the only thing that she still believes in with her whole heart.

Project Ablution was deemed a failure aside from a minor success at an obscure site several hours from Mexico City. None of the factions thought the outcome worth the trouble to try repeating. Mayahuel officially separated from the Dragon with an uneasy but respectful understanding that she can still come and go as she pleases when in Seoul.

She presently lives in London with her beloved Berry, keeping busy with Sun & Moon, Inc. The small gallery next to the Rackham Theatre is where they do a tidy business in fine art and fair trade imports from different locations, offering products to large and small design companies around the globe. The more clandestine business that Sun & Moon engages in is known only to a select few who engage their services regularly or are referred in special circumstances.

=• From TSW to SWL •=
Mayahuel existed in TSW and the transition to SWL is of no consequence to her story. She did not "reset" and her life is moving forward into SWL seamlessly. She simply engages in stories as they arise with little fuss about a strict timeline--something that is fairly easy for her since her own personal story was not attached in any significant temporal ways to events in the earlier game.

=• Known Associates/Affiliations •=
Mayahuel has a fairly large and diverse network of contacts ranging from artists to mob bosses. Aside from her work at the gallery, she moonlights with Knightsbridge Consulting. She also still keeps in touch with many of the individuals she forged relationships with during her time as a writer for Tuppenny Dreadful.

'''Family & Friends:'''

'''Berry Hewes''' -Partner, lives and works with Maya. While the pair usually works together, Berry sometimes leaves on solo assignments when necessary. Love of Maya's life.

'''Perlita Garcia de Bailey''' -Mother, Templar agent assigned to Mexico City. Frequent visitor to London, loves spending time with Maya after so many years of not seeing her

'''Daisybelle Bailey''' - Sister, formerly Illuminati but was allowed to return to civilian life in an unusual trade where Tlazolteotl took her place after the El Tajin incident, whereabouts currently unknown

'''Sonia Smith''' -Maya's closest friend. Sonia runs an upscale travel agency that caters to Secret Worlders. The two met in Agartha when Maya was at her absolute lowest point. Sonia took her in, got her back on her feet and the two have been best friends since that time.

'''Petru''' -Maya met Petru on assignment for Tuppenny Dreadful and the two became very good friends. She checks in on him every few days and thinks of him like a second father.

'''Tlazolteotl''' -Affectionately known as Tozi or Doña Marina, this ancestor of Maya's decided to join the Illuminati just for a chance to needle Kirsten Geary after their first introduction at El Tajin. She is Maya's grandmother many times removed and is very protective of both her and Berry.

'''RP Hooks:'''

You know of Maya from the art/design world--maybe you are an artist looking for a place to rep your work or a designer who needs something interesting for a project

You overhear Maya speaking Spanish and decide you'd like to have a chat

You may have read some of Maya's stories when she worked for Tuppenny Dreadful

You know about the other services that Sun & Moon, Inc. offers and would like to speak with Maya about a contract

Seriously, just say something and see where it goes!

'''Favorite Places & Hangouts:'''

Maya loves art, music, and the outdoors. She can often be found walking her dog in Ealdwic Park or gardening at the cottage. She often travels to Mexico City to see her mother or Italy to visit Sonia. Maya and Berry travel together frequently for business. She can be shy in social situations that are not work-related, but quickly warms up to those who take the time to talk to her. She loves to cook and will often have small gatherings at the gallery.

=• Special Notes •=

Maya speaks Spanish and English fluently. She loves art, although she's given it up professionally to pursue more of a curator's role at the gallery. She is an adept researcher and writer. She loves stories that focus on the histories of folk both mundane and magical. An avid watcher of people, she has a talent for listening and making room for others to share their worlds with her.

Although the Dragon consider Maya to be a failed experiment, her exposure to the filth combined with her maternal bloodline have left her with the ability to see who/what lies beneath the filth. She can sometimes even manage a rudimentary sort of communication with the "before" person or creature. This is an ability that while useful can be quite difficult for her. It's hard to see who people used to be and how much they are truly suffering, especially knowing that there is nothing that can be done to help them.

=• Other Information •=

'''Maya's stories can be found here:'''

http://www.secretworldrp.com/forum/page/1/m/5359865/viewthread/29137715-sun-moon-collaborative-rp-by-invitation/post/126122522#p126122522

http://www.secretworldrp.com/forum/page/1/m/5359865/viewthread/28544162-letters-to-tokyo

'''Maya's Tuppenny Dreadful work can be found here:'''

https://tuppennydreadful.wordpress.com/


<headertabs/>