By Mark Jones (mhj4558@griffon.mwsc.edu)
The MCs, in short, have seen the pain and suffering that holds mankind in a deathgrip, and they want no part of it. Pain is for someone else to deal with. Why be down and depressed when there is so much to be happy about? The MCs see humanity as cascading along one ongoing downward spiral. Humanity won't last very much longer and the MCs don't want to be on board when the ship goes down. For this reason, the MCs paint their faces to separate themselves from humanity.
MCs do not see themselves as human. They are either better or beneath that. They exist in two concepts: the cheerful clown, or the sorrowed soul.
The cheerful clown can be found at any funhouse, any circus, or could even be the mime on the streetcorner that is trying to brighten your day. Clowns do not readily embrace the Ascension War. They are not the type to run out and join the charging brigades of the fighting armies. Rather these are the types that will watch their audience, choose the most interested from the bunch as a volunteer, and perhaps recruit them into the cause. They do not always recruit new MCs, but they try to let new recruits believe theirs is the way to go.
A sorrowed soul is another matter. These are MCs who have been stomped on by their human emotions. They can no longer deal with the emotions that humans shuffle around on a day to day basis. They surrender their humanity to become something else: a creature of depression and betrayal. This is the person that believes his emotions have betrayed him and wants out. Sorrowed soul MCs will be sad and depressed and show few highlights in life. Some will never smile.
Celestial Chorus: They're why most circuses perform on Sunday. Their gospel chantings just don't go with calliope music.
Dreamspeakers: Nature and religion are cool and all, but where's the humor?
Cult of Ecstasy: And people call US clowns?!?!
Euthanatos: Hey is that knife loaded? ha ha J-just kidding...
Hollow Ones: We make them pay double the admission to walk thru the funhouse!
Sons of Ether/Order of Hermes: Even with all your sciences you cannot better the way humans treat each other. No amount of machinery can best a good joke.
Virtual Adepts: Nice computer. Where do I put the quarter?
Technocracy: Humorless bastards! Let's sick the lion tamer on them!
Immortals: (for you Highlander players) We don't tell them jokes. We're afraid they'll laugh their heads off.
Nephandi: You'd rather destroy all life than put on a puppet show?! What kinds of demons are you??
Marauders: I do the same stuff you do and I don't get paradox either. ppbbbblllllttttt
Demons: Where is that lion tamer? I told him to meet us here an hour ago.
Verbena: Lust filled witches who chant spells over spilled blood and magick icons. You need a vacation.
Kindred: The loony ones are ok, but all the others are either stuff-shirted morons or empty headed brutes.
Werewolves: These guys remind me of Greenpeace...but hairier.
Wraiths: Who ya gonna call?? GHOSTBUSTERS!!!
Changelings: What? Fairies? You mean like those one guys... Sorry, I'm an exit only man myself pal. Stay away from me.