Beck/Hooks

Unseelie Thoughts: Beck, they know they’re brilliant. But what gnaws at them—what makes them furious, is how little it seems to matter. The Dreaming is crumbling. Glamour is thinning. Mortals don't care about wonder anymore. They care about gadgets with warranties. Everything is being sanitized, standardized, shrink-wrapped. Beck fights back by building weirdness, one useless device at a time. Beck’s in the Unseelie Court not because they’re cruel, but because they’ve stopped pretending. They feel more than they admit. They dream, still, but without the romanticism. They don’t believe the world will be saved by noble oaths and pageantry. They believe it’ll be saved, if at all, by people who aren’t afraid to break things first. They respect chaos. They respect flaws. They hate pretty lies and polished perfection. You want to know the truth about something? Ask Beck. You might not like the answer. They don’t care. They're not here to be liked. They're here to make something that lasts; even if it’s ugly, loud, and constantly smoking.

Freehold Plans: The Rusted Halo
Some say it was a scrapyard before the Dreaming crept in. Others claim the place was always half-Glamour, that something about forgotten things — about rust, ruin, and reinvention — was always sacred.The Rusted Halo is a ramshackle freehold tucked into a sprawling junkyard at the edge of civilization — or perhaps just outside the city’s attention. It’s part workshop, part chimerical pawn-shop, where the discarded is given new purpose and broken dreams are reforged into something strange and beautiful. An ever-evolving patchwork of corrugated metal, bent signs, clockwork remnants, and barely-held-together machinery, the Halo hums with low-key Glamour and the persistent noise of industry, inspiration, and wild invention.

The Rusted Halo: Is a work in progress, but I have the xp and the ambition. Are you interested?