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Old 04-02-2011, 06:12 PM View Post #1 (Link) The Island
Jack (Offline)
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Right then, let's get this RP ball rolling. For questions and general discussions visit the thread in the social group. Please refrain from speaking out of character in this thread by keeping all discussions in that group. For reference to the rules and to other player's characters, visit the original starter thread here.

Remember, adjust your stories accordingly to the other player's. It's a small island, so some characters may experience similar things to one another. (If, for instance, a building somewhere explodes, the explosion will most likely be heard by the other characters.) For anybody who has signed up and is yet to make a character sheet, there is still time to do so and join in before the RP kicks off. If you haven't signed up yet, you'll have to PM to check it's okay to join.

Also, characters with their names in bold are not to be power played by you guys, any other characters (like the policemen, for instance) can be controlled by you (nothing too drastic, though). Characters that you or other players make up can be controlled by everyone.

From Lykaios, backed up by me:

Several people have power-played other people's characters - please remember you can ONLY control your character, not any body else's. That includes dialogue and actions - the other person will write replies/actions in response, or if you want a longer conversation - do it in PMs and the copy+paste into a post. You can't make up what another person's character says or does.

Example: If your character tries to hit somebody, it's up to the other person to say whether or not that punch hit their character. Exceptions being if the character has their back to yours or something, so the character would not be able see it and move in time anyway. However, you cannot say if the other person's character falls or punches back, etc.

Also the side characters with bold names that Jack makes up are his to use only. So far, these characters are as follows: Edgar Hutch, Martin Jenkins, Rosie Higgins and Joey Anderson.


List of characters and their players in age order (you do not control anyone else's character)
Kanen Renoir - Dr. Michael 'Mickey' O'Brian, 37
AliceGriffin - Theodore 'Theo' Reeves, 34
thecollector - Gideon Damianic, 28
Rose - Heyden Reynolds, 26
lostbookworm - Andrew Henly, 24
Carraka - Ya-Ting Chang, 22
Alexz - Seth Green, 22
Clarissa - Caitlyn McCarthy, 21
Wolfie - Lorren Scalici, 17
Faust - Steve Jenkiens, 17
Lykaios - Oliver Maynard, 16
Me & The World - Ben Sierre, 15 (female)

The Island:

Spoiler:



Right, let the games begin!

6th June 1926.

Edgar Hutch eyed the ferry as it battled through the ever changing waters and towards the beach. He took a weathered telescope from his pocket and pulled it out to full length. Edgar was completely shaded by the shadow of the Asylum's far wall on top the hill, and could see the newcomers perfectly, even through the cobweb mist that hung in the air. He clutched the telescope through tight black gloves, and watched as they gathered their things, preparing to scuttle out and on to the beach.

They will destroy everything I have worked to achieve! Everything I have done for the Asylum, for the island, will be ruined!

A strong gust of wind blew against him and a flash of lightening fractured the grey sky.


****

The light blue sky was blotted with inky clouds. The ferry glided smoothly over the somewhat calm waters on Ferrelrock’s western coast line. Martin Jenkins, the keeper of the ferry, eyed the lightning and scratched his thick black beard, looking back through the cabin to the newcomers:

“The rain looks ta’ be settin’ in soon,” he said.

They were a sickly bunch of outsiders; sneakers and thieves, no doubt. They wouldn’t last long on the island. Martin knew there was a shadow cast over the whole of Ferrelrock, the likes of which neither he, nor any other man could describe. It was surely the devils work, for the devil could only be the origin of such spawn as those that dwelled in Hamsworth or, worse still, the Asylum on the westernmost hill. He watched the Asylum as they passed it, half with a sort of contempt or fear, and half with a sense of wonder. It stood like a Sentinel watching over the waters, watching over his ferry and the people he brought with it. As the ship reached Softrock Beach it creaked loudly; a creak that stretched through its entire body as though even Martin’s possessions feared the place. A tremor.

He pulled the boat up a few meteres from the wet sand.

“That’s it,” he said, looking back at the newcomers. “It’s as far as she’ll go. Off with ya’.” He coughed up some phlegm and spat it onto the metal plates on the floor. “Rosy Higgins is on the beach, you can see her over by the tree clearing. Now, she’s from Anmer, she’s a got a little motor-a four seater I think-that will take some of ya’ straight’ up ta’ her ‘ometown where ya’ can get food and a place to stay the night.” He raised his hands. “Don’t start on with me about who gets the seats, that’s for yourselves ta’ figure out. For yous that is expected to go up to the ol’ Asylum.” He looked up at the old building again and a cold chill ran down his spine. “There’s a police motor stationed on the beach; anyone of yous that tries to git’ off without seeing them will be shot dead by the guards, dy’a understand? Good. Now go, off with ya’!”

*****
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						Last edited by Jack; 04-04-2011 at 02:36 PM.
Old 04-02-2011, 07:07 PM View Post #2 (Link)
Alice Glitterhorn (Offline)
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Theodore Reeves looked away from the paper he held in his hands, and scrunched his eyes up to see the dark splotch of building perched on top of a hill on the island. He might have felt a little afraid if he hadn’t been preoccupied with the letter. He glanced down again.

Hope you have a wonderful time looking for your friend, Reeves!

The last line of a letter equally drenched with the same sickening joy, as if Theo was simply playing hide-and-seek on this island. That boy, with his insane mumbled scribblings, should have been shipped off to that asylum. Theo folded the letter and stuck it in his jacket pocket. He briefly considered throwing it into the water.

The quiet voyage seemed to have come to an end. The ferryman - Theo couldn’t help but think about Charon, delivering the sad lot aboard the ferry onto the opposite side of the Styx - started to say something, which Theo only half-listened to. Find Rosy Higgins for a ride to where? Wherever she was going, it would probably be a good place to ask about Agent William Sawyer. Theo grudgingly fought against the nausea that twisted in his gut and made his chest feel weak. God damn island, swallowing up the only god damn friend I’ve ever had. Hell, indeed.

As the ferry came to a stop, he grabbed the bag by his feet and slid from his seat. His eyes scanned the shore, looking for that woman with the car, wondering if she would know anything about the disappearances. It couldn’t hurt to ask during the ride to - where was it? The ferryman must not have said.

He ignored the others standing up around him and walked down the steps, his feet swallowed up by gray muck; he grimaced.
 
Old 04-02-2011, 07:13 PM View Post #3 (Link)
Alexz (Offline)
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6th June 1926

Seth couldn't believe that he, of all the people working at the EV Weekly, had been picked to visit Ferrelrock (or The Island, as some called it) and capture the images for the headline page! It was going to be his "big break", his career lifter. He was going to be somebody, somebody that people talked about, somebody that mattered. He barely heard Martin as he rambled on about something or other.
The structure on a hill in the distance caught his eye. That must be the Asylum he thought, raising his eyebrows. The stone building loomed over them, seeming to cast a sinister shadow. I've no need to go there. That's not natural beauty; in fact, far from it.

A bump shook him, and he realised that they must've arrived. He glanced around, noting the faces of the other passengers. I'll make sure to keep an eye on them.
“It’s time to go, Heyden.” he shook Heyden, whom he'd become fairly aquainted with after he'd helped Seth pick up some photos that he had carelessly dropped during the voyage.
He grabbed the cobalt bag that lay by his feet and slung it over his shoulder. It contained his precious camera that he'd grown to love more than anything else, his crimson writing pad for any idle thoughts that he might like to jot down and several pens in a variety of hues. They'd accompany him throughout his trip.

He meandered casually over to the exit, avoiding the globule of phlegm that the revolting ferry keeper (that's what he called himself) had expelled from his mouth. As he walked past Martin, he heard him say: "anyone of yous that tries to git’ off without seeing them will be shot dead by the guards, dy’a understand?". Seth stopped in his tracks, and scanned The Island for the aforementioned guards. He saw nothing but sand and trees on the beach; he remained cautious nonetheless.
"Ferrelrock. Finally!" he exclaimed, inhaling the fresh air of The Island. He passed Rosy, taking no notice of her beckoning to sit down and started off into the forest to begin taking pictures of the local wildlife and nature.
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I challenge thee to find a spelling/grammatical error in the above post.
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						Last edited by Alexz; 04-03-2011 at 08:24 PM.
					
					 Reason: To fit the story :P
Old 04-02-2011, 08:03 PM View Post #4 (Link)
Jack (Offline)
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Rosie Higgins sat in the shelter of her small motor car watching as the newcomers trudged through the water and onto the beaches littered sands. One in particular, carrying a large bag over is shoulder, trudge off to the right and vanished in to the thick shrubbery there. Rosie just smiled as his form dissipated in to the trees and leaves. Good, she thought to herself, one less person to deal with. She wanted to blame Martin for bringing them here, but she knew it was only his job; everyone needed to earn their keep, even if it did mean ferrying the foul people from the cities.
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Old 04-02-2011, 08:30 PM View Post #5 (Link)
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Steve Jenkins looked around at the people getting off the ferry with him, seeing their glances at each other. As he walked off Martin was talking about guards or something. He was always talking, an annoying habit of his. Then again he couldn't say anything bad, he had done him a favour of letting him on the boat. Steve looked up to see a building in the distance. Now that he was here he wished he had done some research into this island. Foresight was not his forte. As he looked to his left he saw Rosie something beckoning to him. He started to trudged towards her. Steve saw a man carrying a large bag walk of into the mist. Good luck to him, he thought
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						Last edited by Faust; 04-03-2011 at 09:01 AM.
Old 04-02-2011, 09:40 PM View Post #6 (Link)
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						Last edited by Rose; 04-15-2013 at 05:23 PM.
Old 04-02-2011, 09:58 PM View Post #7 (Link)
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One hand holding her hat to her head, as a sudden gust of wind tried to wrench it from her grasp, and the other clutching a small beaded purse, Caitlyn stepped daintily from the boat onto the dirty, gritty sand around the barnacled prow. A young man (whose name she had forgotten) landed next to her, missing the dry area and landing in a puddle of cloudy seawater. He carried her blue case in one of his rough hands. The boy leaned towards her and opened his mouth to attempt to continue the brief conversation they’d had before the ferry had shuddered to a halt, but before he could speak, she forced a smile and took her suitcase from his hands. She threw her thanks over her shoulder as she strode purposefully towards the dark line of trees where the car was waiting for her.

She quickly overtook the other passengers who were beginning to wander away from the ferry. Caitlyn was the first to reach the police car, where two officers huddled under a tarpaulin of sorts, looking sour and wary. Green eyes flashed from beneath the wide brim of her red hat as she stared straight into their faces, defying them to question her identity pass, which she had pulled from her little beaded bag. She raised her eyebrows, and the larger of the two grunted in reluctant approval, gesturing towards the waiting motor car.
If everyone in this place is as uncommunicative as them… She silenced the niggling worry, smoothed down her dress and headed towards the black car.

“Rosie Higgins? My name’s Caitlyn McCarthy. I hear you are to take us to Anmer?”
“Aye, that’s right. If there’s enough room for ye,” the woman said in a rough tone. Caitlyn was unfazed by her open hostility; it was the way most women reacted to her. They felt threatened by her, and Caitlyn couldn’t blame them.
“Oh I don’t take up too much space, never you fear,” she retorted, her warm voice laced with an undertone of malice, looking pointedly at the woman's ungainly figure. With those words, she opened the door and disappeared into the darkness within.
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						Last edited by Clarissa; 04-02-2011 at 10:07 PM.
Old 04-02-2011, 11:11 PM View Post #8 (Link)
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Mickey’s hand traced absently over the blade of his whittling knife. Even after fifteen years, it still felt strange to use his left hand. The muscles had built up, and he was no less dexterous with his left than he had been with his right, yet something still felt off about it.

He scanned the block of wood in his right hand. It was to be a toy of some sorts, a doll; he wasn’t sure on the exact design yet. His eyes ran up and down the wood, to the three fingers he held it with, down to the scar on his palm. And with the scar came the memory. He forced it down before it became the center of his thoughts, but still flashes slipped through. The saw cutting skin. The blood. The doctor’s face as he told him that his index and middle finger were dead.

The captain’s voice interrupted his thoughts. No, ferryman. Whatever he was called, his accent was thick, and it took Mickey a second to comprehend it. Time to get off. He tossed the knife and the toy into his briefcase and snapped it shut, picking it up with his good hand. Standing, he tucked his right hand into his jacket pocket, a habit of his – the dead fingers looked emaciated now, after years of disuse, and he hated for people to see them.

Mickey stepped off after a boy, barely missing the splash of water the teenager kicked up as he landed. The child started up a conversation with a young woman, who seemed very disinterested – though the fact was oblivious to the boy. The two of the moved off towards the crowd.

Mickey twisted his head back to the ferryman.

“Thank you for the ride.”

“W’atever.” The man looked down at him, then to the Island, a grimace materializing on his face. That doesn’t look good. He made a mental note of the encounter; if he saw the man again, he would have to question him, but for now, he needed to make sure he got into the motor car.

Trudging up the beach, he gave a wary glance at the sky – it rumbled like a starving man. And, Mickey realized, he had forgotten to pack an umbrella. If I have to walk… The thought quickened his pace.

Fear crept up at the site of the policemen. They don’t look happy either. But they didn’t stop him. He reached up to shirt pocket, feeling around with his good fingers. The letter was still there, proof that he belonged on the Island.

Finally he caught up with the boy and young woman, standing by the motor car speaking to someone who could only be Rosie Higgins. The two of them slipped into the car, and he moved forward.

“Miss Higgins?” he asked.

“Yeah?” she grunted, her voice rubbing his nerves like sandpaper. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter, holding it out for her to see. She took it, skimmed for a moment, and handed it back. “Get in.”
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						Last edited by Kanen; 04-03-2011 at 02:58 AM.
Old 04-03-2011, 03:40 AM View Post #9 (Link)
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Lorren Scalici nervously eyed the oppressive, dark clouds from underneath the rim of her hat and her bangs. She pulled her jacket closer to her body, and trembled a bit as she stepped off the ferry, trying to ignore the fact that she might have to walk in the middle of a storm. She snuck a glance to the asylum and was dismayed at how horror movie-esque it looked against the dark sky.

Reluctantly, she trailed behind her parents, not making contact with anyone, and keeping just far enough away that she wasn't touching them. The Ferryman had said something about the girl, Rosie, having a ride of some sort, didn't he? That was good. The storm would be less of a threat that way wouldn't it? Lorren still shuddered with fear.

It didn't take long for her to realize that they weren't even headed toward that Rosie girl as they veered and began walking down the path where she must have come from. Lorren cleared her throat quietly and said, "Where are we going? The ride's over there."

Without a single glance behind him, her dad said in a completely fake-enthusiastic voice, "We won't all fit in there, Sweetie. A little walk will do us some good. Explore a bit, you know?"

No, I don't know, Lorren thought. Did he not see the clouds? It was going to storm and they were out in the open. She slowed down and, without their noticing, walked off in a different direction. She was not going to be in the storm, but she didn't exactly like the idea of being in a cramped car with three strangers, either. She would find her own shelter somehow.
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Old 04-03-2011, 06:38 PM View Post #10 (Link)
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						Last edited by Rose; 04-15-2013 at 05:23 PM.
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