Introduction
By Seij:
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http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2012/ ... 55bscn.jpg
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By Sclam:
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By Jigokunoshinzo:
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http://rainingatmidnight.deviantart.com ... -311295352
By Pie:
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Premise
Five humans, two servants, one daemon, no way out. Prepare to kill and be killed in this fast paced race to be the last man standing. Funny thing is, there will never be a last man standing. As soon as someone dies, a new body takes his or her place. Unlike how Drake used to run things, using galas to lure people to his home, this new place is a new beginning. To keep under the radar, he merely goes out into the city and steals the humans he wants.
Youβre one of them.
Now you have to play his game.
Everyone has their own room, nicely furnished with all the basics, including a simple set of clothes, if you live long enough to need them, a bed with a nightstand next to it, a chamber pot, and an un-stocked vanity with a mirror. None of the rooms have windows to the outside. None of the rooms have doors that lock. They all open out onto the same hall.
Everyone is allowed to wander as they please as long as they donβt go places they shouldnβt. There isnβt any escape in the two level manor, or in the furnished attic above. Drake, as he has been doing this for longer than any of his victims have been alive, has thought of everything. The windows have either been barred or blocked up altogether, and an attempt at finding the key to the door, the way out, would end with a most unsavory encounter. And a waste of a soul.
Deeper Plot
To those whom it may concern,
If you are reading this, then you must know of Drake: you may be part of his game, or perhaps he's gone and left this place. I shudder to think that he might be dead by the time whoever you are reads this, but it is a possibility. I'm writing this to leave my thoughts here, even long after I'm gone to kill another place. It feels like the right thing to do.
My name is James. I serve Drake Stuart. The year is 1876 of our queen Victoria, may she reign ever longer. Currently I am in southern England. We passed through London two months ago, I've been counting, and since then we traveled for two more groups of seven days each to make it to our current place of residence. Drake won't let me out of the manor, so I don't know exactly where we are. I can see a great city from the roof though, over the trees tall buildings. The soft sounds of human voices, accompanied by the ever present scent of their souls rise from just beyond the miniature forest.
I spend quite a bit of time on the roof; it seems, far away from the human servant, Hassan. After certain events passed back at the old manor, which in entailed in Drake's fleeing from humans who wanted his head on a stick for the recent string of murders, Drake acquired a new, unneeded, servant. Hassan. Drake dotes on him because he's a human and a novelty. And he's still 'healing'. It's been four months, and the stupid human is still healing!
On the lighter side, at least Drake hasn't fed the stupid human a soul. Maybe he'll just stick around for a couple decades then be gone like scattered grains on the wind. Feeding the human a soul would gift Hassan with the same life Drake leads, that of murdering and eating life force, and would only end up as another mouth to feed, I think.
You look confused. I guess I forgot to tell you. Drake isn't a human. I'm not either, but to a lesser extent. I was at one point just like you a very long time ago. Drake eats souls. He's a soul eater. If there was an encyclopaedia entry, it would look like this, I think:
"Soul eaters are the dirt of society. They are angels cast from heaven. The speechless beasts kill human after human, searching for an edible soul, not sane enough to realize that any human killed by a soul eater would have their soul reincarnated instantly, thus depriving the beast of its meal. Souls are only free for a soul eater to consume in the few seconds between a humanβs death from a earthly cause and when the grim reaper collects it to deliver it to the proper place. "
Drake mastered the hunger my making amends with the reaper. Now he only has to play little games to keep himself fed. And me as well. This new one will use Hassan as killer, I think. I can't get souls on my own. I need Drake to feed them to me because they are tangible only to him. He also has my tongue, which is a very long and bloody story.
Soul eaters and their half-human counterparts regenerate quickly, and heal completely within seconds of ingesting a soul. Death is a very slim option, because even a severed head can regenerate, if it is properly disposed of, or it decomposes past a living state. If the head and the body were situated in different places, and the head was well kept though, the body would be able to move blindly, and the head would be able to function normally. That's what happened to my tongue, why it doesn't grow back. Kind of disgusting, but one gets used to the thought after a while.
I thi- Hold on. I think I hear Drake coming. I'll finish later. -James Butler
{This message, after being discovered by a certain albino daemon, was tossed into the fire. Another note soon joined its fate, from the aforementioned Hassan}
[The note is messy and almost unreadable. The script tells two things about the writer. The first is that the writer is still learning to write. The second is the writer is writing with a hand that is rarely used, thus the fine motor controls required to write are none existent.]
It has been four months since Drake promised to find Alexander's soul and temporarily hired me. Those four months have been nothing short of absolute hell. He promised to find me my master's soul, but I'm beginning to believe that he lied to me. He has made no effort to find Alexander's soul and merely brushes me off when I question him about it. Eventually, he will bring me Alexander's soul, even if I have to beat him into submission.
It's been about two months since we arrive at the new mansion. Well, new to me, anyway. I haven't been allowed outside since. The windows won't even open, to prevent anyone from escaping. The only fresh air I get is when Drake opens the front door and I just happen to be there. He's getting much better about coming and going without my noticing.
Soon, Drake will be bringing fresh blood. I think he's been waiting for me to heal so that I could do my job. That's nice of him. At least I can walk in a straight line now. I still hurt everywhere and my right hand may as well be cut off. I can't use it for anything and it's so disfigured that I wish I had something to remove it. At least it looks normal when I wear my gloves. My lip has healed improperly, too, it seems. I didn't mean to pick at the stitches, but I did. Drake even threatened to tie my hands together if I didn't stop, but I kept on picking at them. By the time he noticed the stitches were loose, it had been hours. There's still a scar where half of the lip stayed together, but most of it has healed separately. In short, my right cheek is half gone and speech is nearly impossible.
Hopefully, it will all be over soon. Drake has promised to bring in people that he believes may be carrying Alexander's soul. These people must die, but if it is to save my master and grant me my freedom, then I am willing to sacrifice a few lives. Drake cannot kill them himself, which is why he will bring them here, and I believe the same rule applies to James. I cannot remember. However, since I am human, that rule does not apply to me and I may kill as often as I wish and still allow Drake to harvest the souls afterward.
Oh, that's right. You don't know, do you? Well, Drake is a Soul Reaper, or something along those lines. I don't remember the exact words he used. He can harvest the souls of the dead and return Alexander's soul to his body.
People will be brought here and left to fend for themselves. The idea is that they will be frightened and desperate enough to kill each other. However, people are fickle and more likely to join together in times like what is coming. They are far more likely to try and work together than they are to start fighting with knives and whatnot. That is where I will come in. I will be moving things along. Sometimes I will give a friendly nudge in the right direction β drop a lie here and there, spread some rumors, and supply weapons β but mostly I will be hunting them. The moment these people enter this mansion, they shall be mine to do with as I please. Not even Drake has such power over these humans. If they all must die by my hands, then so be it. These people are all that stand between me and my master's soul.
[There is a large smudge of ink, taking up a large portion of the paper, as though a paragraph or two had been written but them smudged out before the ink could dry. It is completely unreadable except for a few words here and there.]
With all the rules Drake has lain out, it's seems more like a game than anything.
-The humans are not allowed in or near Drake's room or the library.
-Everyone brings what they have with them at the time.
-There is no escaping. Don't even bother trying.
-This was over before it even began.
I both love and hate Drake. I don't know what to feel toward him. He has my obedience, but not my loyalty. I want to hurt him. Maim that perfect face and rob him of that smile. That βbetter than youβ smile that he always wears. I hate him for trapping me here and never allowing me outside. James has been teaching me to write when he's having a particularly good mood and Drake has supplied me with a pen and ink, though it is my job to find paper. I hate him so much, but there is something that ties me to him. Something more than his promise of finding my master's soul. I fear that, once this is over, I might prefer to stay by his side. Is this what everyone calls βloveβ? Or is it a different form of hate? With Drake, I can never tell.
I will distract myself with the humans Drake brings. They should provide enough entertainment to keep my mind distracted of these thoughts.
...
I'm a bit worried about all this. I should feel sick or horrified by what I am about to do yet...
Somehow...
I feel so...
Excited...
Character sheet
- Code: Select all
Full name:
Gender:
Age: (Iβd prefer humans ages 18 to 35, because Drake favors the flavors of souls around those ages.)
Personality: (Make it as long as you want. Three words or three thousand. Just give the gist or explain everything. But keep in mind that your character will die, so don't pour hours upon hours of work into it.)
Appearance: (Any kind of picture along with a short description. Or a long one without the picture. Add weight, height, all that kind of stuff.
Other: (Anything else youβd like to add. This isnβt mandatory.)
Short history: (What brought them up to this point. Make it however long you want. But please, keep in mind that you will make more than one character over the course of this roleplay.)
Note that I will not accept any characters until I have the five that I want, and a certain deadline has passed. Go ahead and submit a character, see if you've got what it takes to be a player in this chapter two.
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 10 authors
βWell, then again, young men in such positions as mine should rarely need to know such a thing. We have other things to be concerning ourselves with and other things that occupy our thoughts. Young men such as myself leave such knowledge to those who do not have to concern themselves with the greater questions in life,β The young man said after her comment, and she merely looked at him, completely inexpressive as sheβd taken to being after arriving in this place. She wasnβt quite sure what to think of him. He didnβt seem stupid, but then, children stemming from families with money rarely were; after all, there was the matter of education. But although she did not consider him unintelligent, she had a slight feeling that his arrogance would get him into trouble at some point. Arrogant people had this tendency to think they could do more than they actually could.
She tilted her head slightly to the side as she observed his every expression, the silence stretching between them. She really didnβt like him. There. That was the sad fact. She was captured in a house with some odd, red-eyed creature, a servant who could barely talk because the entire one side of his face seemed to have been cut in two at some point, a scared little girl whoβd sat shaking in the corner, a hollowed out corpse, a boy who was probably dead from blood loss by now, and in the kitchen with her was another bloody corpse on the counter, and a spoiled rich kid who ate without a single concern. Honestly, what was her life coming to?
She did not speak to him again. For one, because she did not wish to, but honestly it was mostly because their apparent host entered the kitchen just then. She turned slightly in her seat to face him silently. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Valentine, Mister Cantin." He greeted them, his voice friendly in a way, yet the smile he offered along with it, made Danteβs skin crawl. He was no man. She was sure of it. She had never been one to believe in the supernatural. In fact, she had only ever considered it superstitions. Yet thisβ¦ creatureβ¦ could not possibly be human. He just couldnβt. Still, her distress did not show. In spite of how confusing this situation was, Dante knew that showing emotions was never going to help her with anything. So she stood, completely expressionless as she curtsied politely.
That was how she had been raised. Plain and simple. And hey, she figured it could not harm to do so. She drew in a deep breath, remaining standing as her eyes fell on the two heβd brought with him. More people who he had kidnapped? No matter, she would soon find out. He had addressed them, so perhaps he would at last diverge what the purpose was to all of this. Shaking that thought off for the time being, Dante analyzed the two newcomers, her eyes completely void of any emotion. She had not missed the way the young maleβs eyes had watched both her and Saber, but just then his expression had changed from coldly calculating to innocent and friendly. The change made her wary. Especially as he then seemed to frown before remembering to revert back to the innocent front.
Hmm. So young, he seemed, yet his eyes, as much as he tried to hide it, were older than they should be. The female next to him had a stiff air to her. She didnβt seem all that tense, yet something about her reminded Dante of a predator about to strike. Her eyes flickered seemingly disinterestedly to the dead body on the counter to the newcomers again, only to land finally on Drake. Then, however, the boy spoke, asking her and Saber how they were. Green eyes slowly made their way to him. How was she? She watched him closely then. Not too good, honestly, but thenβ¦ he didnβt really care about that, did he? His facial expression had ever so briefly flickered to something a lot less innocent, and Dante couldnβt help feeling like he was trying to be someone he was not. People did not shift like that if they were not trying to put up some front. His seemed very conscious, as opposed to her own odd faΓ§ade, which came naturally and therefore did not flicker as such. She didnβt like it, and she certainly did not trust it. She had been around way too many people just like that.
But then, she supposed she could brush it off as though she had perceived the question only to be directed at Saber. After all, she wasnβt really too used to being addressed directly that way. As such, Dante said nothing, but instead redirected her gaze once more to land on Drake. The pale, tall figure was the only person whose words held any importance in this moment.
A noise coming from the room startled her, and she stared wide-eyed at the partially open door, her heart fluttering. She was tensed and ready to run at the slightest provocation, but she had to know what was happening. Abruptly, the door flung open, and James crumpled to the ground. Linnie gave a small gasp, taking a couple stumbling steps toward the collapsed boy. She hesitated, unsure of what to do, but as soon as James's eyes rested on her with a small smile, she rushed over and knelt beside him.
He struggled to get up, but he was far too weak. Linnet gently pulled his head into her lap, quickly realizing just how bloody he was. Looking at his blood smeared face with concern, she quietly said, "S... Sur James...." The way she said it seemed like she was trying to see if he was alright, and her voice was husky, as if she was on the verge of tears. She gently began wiping the blood from his face and neck, carefully avoiding the slashed skin on his throat. It was quickly apparent that the wound was much more shallow than it had been, and Linnie could not mask her surprise, nor did she try to. However, her surprise was quickly replaced by an odd concern, one that seemed almost accepting. Her eyes dropped from James's, her hand slowing until it stopped as she hunched in a posture that spoke of defeat.
Though it appeared she was accepting what James really was, really, Linnet had made the decision that she would escape no matter the cost. She had to be wary for any opportunity to leave this horrid place. She simply had to, and she had finally accepted that. There would be no salvation here, though Drake had said the last person standing would win, he had already brought more people to replace those who had died. There would never be a last one alive.
She briefly hoped that she would be able to take James with her when she escaped, but it was apparent now that he was as much a part of this game as Drake, the angel of death, was. She realized now why she had felt so attached to James. He reminded her of someone she had known. They cared for each other on the streets, and she loved him as her a brother, but he was just as quickly gone, taken by disease as she watched helplessly. She could no longer allow herself to become attached to James, simply because he was not hers to attach to.
Drakes words came to mind, "I'll tell you a secret, Little Miss Witch. This time, our little friend over here isn't going to be fed until you go and die. And no sooner either, since he's been a bad little servant. He's not allowed to go and make nice little friends today. So you better go kick the bucket before the boy tears your throat out." There was no doubt in her mind that what Drake said was possible. She did not resent James for it in any way, but merely accepted the fact.
Suddenly, she heard a noise from inside the room, and her head shot up. This was no time to sit and think, Hassen could appear at any moment. Linnet felt foolish for forgetting that. Listening to make sure Hassen would not come out at that moment, Linnie whispered, "Sur James,... Do... Do ya think ya could stand if I 'elped? Can't stay 'ere...." Her eyes went back to the open door before alighting again on James face. Her hand darted out, almost by its own volition, to wipe a speck of blood from his cheek, resting there a moment longer than necessary. She looked as though she could cry for the pain that she had caused him, and she slowly removed her hand and began to position herself so she could help James stand.
Her face was still contorted with surprise, apparently she'd thought herself safe hiding in her room. He pulled her off the table where she'd rested, and her feet slid down to brush the floor as he held her upper torso so he could examine her. The back of her dress was still torn, and bandaging could still be seen. The wound had begun to heal without a hitch, but it seemed that skin would never be whole again. satisfied with his servant's work, he folded her over his arm as if she was washing, her arms hanging down limply. She dripped blood from her wounds onto the floor. Yet another thing James would have to clean later. My, he really was getting behind. Silly boy. He'd been so busy playing with his little friend that he'd not done any of his chores at all. Oh well. Drake did not mind living in a bloody manor, though his guests might find it a bit disquieting. Finding corpses laying about really wasn't a pleasant experience for one who didn't regularly deal with them. Especially Lira's corpse, who'd had quite a number dealt to his chest.
After the short sidetrack, Drake brought his attention back to his guests. "Mister White has already heard the rules, so he may find himself something to eat if he wishes," he said, waving the young man towards the table the other two were standing around. "But I shall assume that Hasssen hasn't told the two of you anything, yes?" His eyes turned back to the man and woman, landing on Dante for an extended moment before flicking to Saber. "He's not much for rules, but he is very good at punishing those who break them." His voice was off-handed as he bounced Allease's corpse in his arm a few times.
"As you've likely already surmised, since you've met Lira's corpse, this is a game of last man standing. Or woman, of course." His eyes flicked back to Dante for a moment, skating over her features before returning to Saber's face once again. "Last person alive wins." That was technically not a lie, considering he would still be alive at the end of it all, and he'd win the opportunity to eat their souls. Probably not the kind of prize they had in mind though. "But if you dawdle your friend Hassen will make short work of you. He also won't like it much if you enter the library, or my quarters, or the closed door on the second floor. He's a lot faster than he looks. Which reminds me, don't kill my servants please, that isn't polite." Was that it? Yes, that seemed like everything.
"And I'll guess that you'd like some introductions, yes?" He pointed at Andrew and his servant. "That is Mister Andrew White and Miss Juliet Lockwook. You've already seen Miss Linnet Mallory, though she won't be around for much longer, the little spitfire, and Miss Elizabeth Richardson is probably hiding somewhere about here. And you've met both Hassen and James, the little scrap." Where had the two of them run off to anyway? Hassen had been accompanying these two, and James had been bleeding out on the floor. Maybe the lad took his little friend off somewhere? They played a bit rough, but was rather cute watching them hiss and scratch at each other. Silly little servants. Someone was going to loose an eye or a limb eventually, but for now Drake was ever so happy to spur their spats. Hassen was such a sweet little creature, but he was ever so mortal. James knew better than to hurt him badly or he himself would suffer the consequences.
Drake smiled fondly as he thought of the two servants before bringing his attention back to the matter at hand. "Do we have any questions, Mrs. Valentine, Mister Cantin? Don't hesitate to ask, I won't bite." The shark grin that had curled back up on his face said otherwise, and James's throat still held the evidence of just how sharp those teeth really were. He'd rested his other hand on the corpse's abdomen, which was bloated and pushed outwards since that part of her damaged spine rested right on his arm, and now he leaned against the bloodied table he'd found her on, examining the faces of the two humans like they were the most interesting creatures he'd ever met.
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But for now, sleep.
James shifted his head, pushing it off the boy's shoulder. The servant grunted but otherwise gave no signs of life. The boy was free to roll off the bed. Once James and left Hassen's side, however, the servant whined and reached up to paw blindly at the empty space. The warmth had suddenly left his side, forcing him to a state of near wakefulness. Not quite awake, not quite asleep, the servant tried to settle himself back to a comfortable position but couldn't seem to do so. The comforting warmth was gone, leaving behind the stink of fresh blood and month-old death.
Death?
There had been no warning. Time had seemed to actually speed up for a change. Odd. Didn't it normally slow down during these times? Esther had freed herself somehow and snatched up the cane. The first blow had been accidental, but the man had fallen down hard. The second blow was weak but purposeful. The third and fourth blows strong and powerful. Each blow afterward worked her even further into a maddened, frightened frenzy. Again and again the cane came down even after the startled cry had long been silenced mid-yell. Again and again.
Again and again.
She wouldn't stop. She was hurting the master and she wouldn't stop. He had to do something. Anything! He had chosen to use his body to protect his master. Jumping between the armed woman and her target, he had gathered his master's body to him and screamed.
There had been blood everywhere. Some from him, some from the master. He couldn't tell which was whose and who had lost more. He just knew that there was pain everywhere and, somewhere deep inside he knew, there was nothing to comfort him.
A frightened cry startled him completely out of his subconscious whatchamacallit as he rolled off the bed. The stench of death disappeared with his waking up but the blood on the bed still caught his attention. There was blood but no James. Why was there no James? The servant took a moment to check on Alexander, making sure the man was still sleeping peacefully. As far as he could tell, there was nothing amiss with his master and so he hobbled to the door in search of James. Deep in his subconscious, he knew something was wrong. He needed to go back and check again because was terribly, horribly wrong with his master. He could feel it. But there was nothing he could do. Not right now.
Opening the door completely, he eyed the wall in mild confusion before stepping out. The German servant seemed... lost. Confused. Mildly terrified, even. It was like he had regained a lost piece of himself, only to have it snatch away from under his nose.
Nonetheless she began mopping his face and neck up carefully. He couldnβt help but sigh softly, relaxing. Her concern was calming, though he could feel great tension from her form. She was dealing with her own problems. Or maybe he was her problem, James wondered as her eyed dropped and she hunched over slightly. He could do nothing to consol her, though he wished to; his entire self was trembling already, and he was trying to do nothing more than pull himself into a proper sitting position. It was not working in the slightest bit however, more than a few odd jerks he was limp as a ragdoll. His veins and arteries were suffering from tiny pricks of pain; they were slowly filling back up with blood, but not fast enough. He was still white as a sheet underneath the layer of blood on his face, and heβd spent the energy gained from his fitful sleep.
Suddenly she jerked, her body becoming alert. She looked towards the door, which he could not see, but he knew what her fear was. Hassen. Was he there, or had she just heard a sound from within? No, he couldnβt be there, his breathing would be audible if he was that close. But the sounds of him stirring were dangerous enough as it was. Adrenaline stung his system as his heart rate increased past itβs already painfully laboured beating, coughing out fear. Linnie looked towards the door for a few seconds like a startled rabbit before looking down at him. He nodded in response to her whispered request. In between the seconds of fear, suddenly, she reached out and brushed her finger across his face lightly as if wiping away a drop of blood, but the gesture lasted a bit too long for that. He stared up at her, trying to silently communicate his thanks, and she withdrew her hand.
She looked about ready to cry, but James couldnβt fathom why. Maybe it was because sheβd been through so much. She didnβt deserve it, but there was nothing he could do to fix it. And he didnβt deserve her kindness either, but he knew he should pay it back to the best of his ability. She deserved to be protected to the best of his ability. Drake had intended him to attack and kill her but he would exercise restraint. His wounds would heal, he would be fine. And so would she. For as long as he could make it so. Which honestly wasnβt very long. Even if she did manage to hold onto life for another month, he would go mad with starvation and all bets would be off, but he chose to ignore that fact? It wasnβt important in this moment.
She shifted and he clung to her, getting his shaking knees under him again, his arms wrapped around her upper arm as if he was afraid to fall again, which was very likely outcome if he let go of her. His knees were only just able to support his weight, mostly due to the urgency of the situation. His head, however, was a different story. Keeping it up required a surprising amount of effort, and as he made his way to his feet it occasionally fell forward. He didnβt want to stare at the floor however; they had to get out of this place and he needed to put himself fully to that cause. He could deal with being hurt, but he couldnβt defend Linnie in this state.
They began a haphazard escape down the hall, but it was slow going. James felt like dead weight, though he could stand on his feet he couldnβt make them move very far. It was like moving in molasses his limbs were heavy and slow and he couldnβt change anything. Even the urgency couldnβt bring enough vigor to his bloodstream to strengthen him much more than this trembling state. He made a sound of distress at the situation, gritting his teeth so his head wouldnβt fall back on Linnetβs shoulder. He wanted to urge her to go on by herself, but he couldnβt summon the strength to communicate such a complicated thought.
And then it was too late to do much of anything. Hassen swung the door open, emerging loudly. James froze completely, not able to even look around for a moment, features twisted in slack dismay. Nothing happened for a moment and then he was able to turn his head enough to see Hassan. The man was justβ¦standing there. The expression on his face was mostly confusion. Like heβd stepped out of the door into world heβd never seen before. It was a curious expression. James didnβt spend much time watching Hassan other than times in which they were sparring or he was hunting the male, and heβd never seen this particular expression cross the now twisted features of the other servant. Beforeβ¦before he could remember once when the male had emerged from a room with guarded confusion on his face, but that was a lifetime ago in a different place under different circumstances. That had been explainable. The man had been innocent back then. Well, it hadnβt stopped him from trying to beat the tar out of James a few hours before that particular scene (Broke his wrist and left him with some nasty bruising, if he recalled correctly. All those fights had long since blurred together though, it was hard to tell), but that had been explainable as well. James would have done the same thing in his position.
This confusion wasnβt able to be explained away by circumstance. And it was tinged by fear, it seemed. Most enthralling, that fear. They really needed to get out of here. Jamesβs fingers tightened on Linnieβs shoulder, but he didnβt move. He couldnβt move. He was rooted in place by the threat, the weakness of his frame, and the curiosity. He might have handled one or two well enough, but all three together were deadly, locking his knees and sapping his strength with this tense moment. On a poorly thought out decision he tried to push Linnie away, urge her to flee without him, but he mostly just pushed himself down onto the ground again. No amount of frantic reaching stopped him from landing hard on his back again, a squeak of dismay escaping his mouth as he sprawled out. Maybe Linnie got his message though and would move on. It wasnβt safe for her to be by herself, but it was less safe for her to be here when Hassan was obviously unpredictable, judging by the expression on his face.
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So then, if this situation did not have the potential to bring Saber to his knees, quaking with fear, what did? Being alone, quite possibly. Though, Saber had done his best to avoid that very situation and would, subsequently, not know what it would do to him. However, it was the logical conclusion that a boy, such as himself, who fed off of the attention of others as if it were his very lifeblood, would fall apart if denied that attention for too long. Oh, the lengths he went to ensure that he was never alone. To be alone only with oneβs own thoughtsβ¦now there was a terrifying idea.
Saberβs attention was brought back to Drake at the mention of the rules. His face brightened once more. A proper game always had rules. Last man standing; donβt touch the library or his private quarters. Well, thatβs fine then. That limited the space in which they could play, right? Now the real issue was finding a weapon. The only knives around here seemed to be butter knives. While those could scratch, they werenβt exactly lethal. He could get creative, of course, but the creative methods typically were the more messy ones.
βAre we to be equipped with weapons, or do we simply have to improvise?β Saber asked. There had perhaps been a time when he would have asked why the man was doing this? Why would he have to fight for his life? But truthfully, Saber cared little for his life. He might as well spend it on something thrilling. Of course, he intended to win, but if he didnβtβ¦oh well. At least the ride was entertaining.
A dead person appeared to be in the same room as them, but Andrew was not fazed even slightly. Andrew watched in fascination as Drake appeared to have freakish strength. He did not regret stopping his maid from fighting earlier. His luck, not that he believed in it, had appeared to still have been working. He did not believe that he would be allowed to live if he won, it was the simple rule of games like this. Never let the witnesses or victims survive. He listened to the names mentioned by Drake and almost grabbed his notebook, but decided against it. He wouldn't want to reveal the fact that he had a notebook yet, at least not until he had died. He could try killing Ms. Valentine or Mister Cantin, but that would probably lead to some complications later on. He decided that planning out things and then speaking with the other guests would be a good idea, mostly due to the information the other guests could bring him. Alexander would have stayed to listen to Drake's answer to Saber's question, but he decided to leave. He waved goodbye at the other two in the kitchen, and left for the main hallway, his servant following.
He quickly found his room, or what he thought to be his quarters, then he and Juliet entered. He had began writing in the notebook he had, preparing the future players of the game for their turns to play. Juliet, while inside the quarters, stood next to the wall, prepared to strike at any moment. She expected to be followed, which is why she decided to stay there for at least ten minutes.
Following her reluctant curtsy, Dante straightened, looking up at the red-eyed creature before her. He made her nervous, even the hairs on her arms were standing alert, as though they too could sense that this male wasnβt telling her everything. He wasnβt telling any of them nearly enough. In fact, he had still yet to say anything of any use, and she was too well-behaved to speak out of turn and outright ask him. Dante had been raised strictly, until the point at which she could no longer consider herself a normal girl. And then of course, sheβd married her husband, who hadnβt particularly helped things. He was very adamant about her knowing her place and for her not to ever step out of line.
The redhead took a step back, lips parting slightly when the demon man turned and picked up the corpse which had so far been lying uselessly on the table. Her eyes never lost the matte expression, but still, it was a slight slip, and she slowly closed her mouth entirely again, staring at Drake. Was he going to say anything now? Because if he wasnβt, he might as well leave. Or better yet, she might as well leave. True, she knew that wasnβt going to happen. She probably wasnβt even getting out of her alive, no matter what she did, because no matter what, she now knew too much for them to let her go, and they werenβt going to trust her no matter how much she pleaded. Which meant that she might as well already be dead.
"Mister White has already heard the rules, so he may find himself something to eat if he wishes, but I shall assume that Hasssen hasn't told the two of you anything, yes?" Drake began after a little while, and Danteβs gaze cut briefly to the newcomers heβd brought with him. That had to be Mister White. Inwardly, Dante took note of everything, every single word he spoke, and every reaction on the faces of her fellow kidnappees. As her green gaze turned back to Drake, he was looking at her too, and that same chill took another dance up her spine. She drew in a deep breath, donning her indifferent mask more firmly.
"He's not much for rules, but he is very good at punishing those who break them." Drake then explained to them, causing Dante to take a few more steps back until she had a chair, which she sank down upon carefully. To anyone else, this would appear controlled and intentional, but to Dante herself, it was anything but. It was simple really; her legs shook too much to hold her up. Luckily, her long dress covered that perfectly.
He bounced the corpse on his arm a few times before he continued, casually explaining the sick, perverted game to them: "As you've likely already surmised, since you've met Lira's corpse, this is a game of last man standing. Or woman, of course. Last person alive wins." Her worst fears had just been confirmed, and Dante sank slowly, focusing on that simple, subtle action, because she couldnβt even make herself look around. She had enough of an idea about these boys, to suspect that their eyes were probably alight with predatory glee, or something of the like, right now.
With that, Drake began explaining the rules of thisβ¦ deathtrap. "But if you dawdle your friend Hassen will make short work of you. He also won't like it much if you enter the library, or my quarters, or the closed door on the second floor. He's a lot faster than he looks. Which reminds me, don't kill my servants please, that isn't polite." Slowly, Danteβs mind became more focused, and she closed her eyes briefly, probably for the last time of her life, before she looked around, inwardly recoiling at the expression on Saberβs face. Oh yes, he was indeed the psychopath sheβd assumed him to be. His eyes were alight, his entire face bright with excitement. A brief shudder shook her body then, filled with disgust and revulsion. Instantly, she moved her green eyes to watch the dead body, looking at the wide, surprised eyes.
The demon made introductions and Dante reluctantly took note of everything, but she couldnβt stop watching those eyes, no because she was excited or happy, but because she knew she was going to end up the exact same way. Her days were numbered. Even if she did βwinβ, Drake had spoken of no actual price, and she doubted very much that he was about to just let whoever killed everyone else go. Besides, it was obvious to Dante that this Lira, and the young Miss Mallory, had both been here longer than Dante and the three others. Two dead corpses today alone and they were the substitutes. How many more had already died and been replaced? Was there an end to this βgameβ? Or were they all to die in this house, little pieces in a game intended to amuse some insane, red-eyed demon-man?
Dante was drawn from her minor personal panic-attack, when Drake rounded off his speech by asking them whether they had any questionsβ¦ followed by him telling them that he didnβt bite, which was no doubt a blatant lie. His sharp teeth told that, even if the way he smiled hadnβt. He wasnβt human, but he obviously enjoyed playing with the race. Perhaps he lived off of humans likeβ¦ like a vampyr? Regardless, she had questions, but she did not think he would answer them, and she honestly didnβt dare anger him.
Then Mister Cantin spoke up and Dante almost cursed just then. Why did he have to be soβ¦ stupid? βAre we to be equipped with weapons, or do we simply have to improvise?β He simply said, as though that was the most normal thing in the world. Before the demon-man got to reply, however, Dante noticed Mister White and Miss Lockwood leaving the room, the male sending a lazy wave in their direction. Should she go too? Leave this imbecile with the demon-man? No, probably not. It could be that staying would earn her just a bit more knowledge, but she no longer felt comfortable sitting down, so she go to her feet slowly, on legs which she had managed to get back under control. For the briefest of moments, she wondered what her husband must be thinking of her absence.
"Ah, now there's a question." He said after another unnerving second spent staring at the human. "I do not have any weapons on hand, but I'm sure you might find some lying about the house. James always has a few to give away, or Lira might have one you can take. He has no use for it anymore anyway." Drake grinned, most amused. He took a few steps toward the man, red eyes flicking over the youth's face. "Some little mouse hoarded away all the kitchen knives though, what a shame. Though a butter knife forcefully in an eye socket does just as fine of a job, if you've got the stomach for it." He blinked at the man, stopping about a foot from him. His voice spoke that he didn't believe the man had it in him to make good of his bravado. A challenge. These cocky rich humans were all about proving themselves, weren't they? They flinched away at the sight of blood just as Lira had.
In a sudden moment Drake turned his attention to the woman. "No questions, Mrs. Valentine? You have nothing to fear from me, I won't hurt you." He said pleasantly, shifting the corpse in his arms again. It was flopping around in the most ungainly fashion, getting in his way. He kept accidentally stepping on the corpse's hand, which made the most annoying crackling sounds. "Though I can make no promises that no one else will harm you. Except for, perhaps, James. Judging by his affinity for Miss Mallory, he won't harm pretty little things such as yourself." At that he smirked. It was true though. The boy's romp with the foolish Frenchman, and now his desire to protect the little street rat? He had a need to protect the helpless, it seemed. That valiant idiotic little boy.
He moved to near the woman and examine her face a bit more closely, but accidentally stepped on the corpse's hand yet again. "Christ. Get out of my way." He muttered at the body, and in a fluid movement he tossed the body into the chair Mrs. Valentine had recently vacated. It hit the chair, head rocking back and limbs tangling in the air, then slumped into an almost natural sitting position. Drake wiped his hands against his waistcoat as if in a job well done then turned his attention back to the woman. "You see, I'm in an incredibly good mood at the moment, and it would be a shame to waste it, now wouldn't it, my dear?" His eyes were fixed on her in an almost predatory fashion.
It had been a long time since he'd played with a human. It was more fun to play with women, they seemed to get more worked up about things. Deget, Linnet, it couldn't possibly be that hard to push Dante into a bit of a visible panic, could it? He didn't believe so. He folded his hands behind him, walking a slow deliberate circle around her, eyes fixed on her the entire time. "So I'll ask again. Anything you'd like to say, my Lady?" It was quite obvious that Drake was enjoying himself. Then again, however, when wasn't Drake enjoying himself?
For the better part of her life, her every moment had been filled with fear, and she constantly made sure she could run and hide. It was difficult and quite terrifying for her to ever be tied down, unable to escape, as years with her father and alone on the streets of London had more than justified. However, in opposition to this very nature, she was helping the injured James despite the danger involved, both from others in the house and possibly from James himself. She would never be able to tell what kept her there with him, but there was no fighting it, no matter the outcome.
She stayed with James, gently supporting him as they crept down the hall. She tried to hurry, but forced herself to keep a slow enough pace for James to not strain himself. However, her own nervousness made her more anxious each moment. James's wordless murmurs half startled her each time as she checked to make sure he was alright. He looked as nervous as she was feeling. They stumbled down the hall, slowly approaching the corner as the distance seemed to grow longer and longer.
Finally, what Linnet had been expecting all along happened. She heard the door slam open with a short thud, causing her to freeze. As she looked to confirm what she already knew, she noted a look of unease, no more than that, on James's features. She turned slightly, looking at Hassen. What she saw, however, surprised her.
Hassen bore a look of pure confusion, as if coming through that door brought him somewhere unexpected. He looked like a lost child on the street. It was an expression Linnet sympathized with, and with a startling ease that was strange since she was scared stiff of the man. Her first time in London quickly popped into her mind. That was definitely what the look reminded her of. But what had caused it in this man. Linnie had no clue as to what had cause this pure, innocent expression, but it caught her off guard.
She also saw something else, something both familiar and possibly dangerous. Fear, something she was very familiar with. She also knew what fear could cause one to do, and had caused her to do earlier that day. Thoughts of Lira caused her to shudder slightly as she forced them harshly away, but she could do nothing to stop the slight trembling.
Interrupting her quaking, James suddenly pushed her away, as if attempting to stand on his own unsteady legs. That, of course, was not what happened, and he just as suddenly fell hard on his back. Linnet tried to catch him, half falling on him in the process. She could not help the small gasp that escaped from her lips as she looked down at the boy with concern. Glancing up at Hassen for the briefest moment, not even long enough to figure out if he had noticed them, she again knelt beside James. She pulled his arm around her shoulder and lifted him to his feet with a strength fueled by fear.
Finally, she looked again at Hassen, praying he had not noticed them. She automatically placed herself between James and Hassen as if trying to protect the injured boy. She was in no place to protect even herself while holding James, but she had to try.
Setting
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James was right; Hassen was highly unpredictable. There was something wrong with his environment - something that effected almost every one of his senses - and yet he couldn't find it. That made him irritable and frustrated at his own inability to find what was so wrong. His master always used to praise him for his talent and finding things that were out of the ordinary. How else would he have kept his master alive for so long? The man was manipulative and cruel, enjoying messing with people's minds or dragging them through the mud, and had quite a number of people after his head. Naturally, as the servant/bodyguard, it was his duty to make sure nothing happened.
Hassen had noticed the disappearance of James, so he hadn't completely lost his touch. However, it was time to get things moving. The sooner he found the missing soul, the sooner he and Alexander got to go home. This game was taking much too long. Perhaps he should start sneaking into the rooms of the "guests" and kill them in their sleep. It wouldn't take long and things would move along faster. But the more important question was the location of James.
The sound of harsh breathing and a body hitting the floor caught his attention. With a cough, Hassen stared down the hall at James and Linnet. That explained where James had run off too. Honestly, the boy couldn't sit still for anything. A frown decorated his lips and his head cocked. Perhaps one of them could see what he couldn't. The girl, most likely.
Never trust a woman. Right. Women were dangerous. Wait, no. Dangerous when armed. That one girl had gotten hold of Alexander's cane. This woman had... nothing visible. Unless she had a knife, everyone would be fine.
Pointing at the door that he had just come through, Hassen made a guttural whine; the closest thing to a cry for help that he could manage in his current state. If he could get her over, she was more likely to look in the room and see things. Then he could use James as a translator and he could tell her what he wanted. Which, of course, meant that he would need to carry the boy over. Easy enough. Take a few steps forward, he continued to point at the door and whine with the hope that Linnet would go over and take a peek inside.
He seemed torn with indecision for a moment, looking at her almost suspiciously, but he decided quickly. As he beckoned, Linnie realized whatever had him in that state was in that room. Her curiosity rose, quickly beginning to override her desire to run, as well as her common sense which told her Hassen was dangerous and needed to be avoided if she wanted to survive. She soon realized there was a slight odor in the hall, something she could not quite place.
He took a couple steps forward, and Linnie half stumbled away, nearly tripping over James. They had not been able to get very far away, so now Hassen was just a few steps short of reaching them. With James clinging to her, Linnet was unable to reach the knife still hidden in the sash of her apron, but she did not really think of the knife now. She was longing to understand what Hassen wanted, though it might end up detrimental to her.
Her mounting curiosity caused her to take a couple steps forward, heading around Hassen so she could see inside the door without getting too close. James still clung to her as she supported him, but her mind was not on him at the moment. She paused again, thinking of Drake's warning not to get near this room. Her eyes wandered toward Hassen, but he did not seem opposed to her coming nearer. In fact, that seemed to be what he wanted her to do. Why was another question entirely.
As she came nearer, the smell became more distinct. It was sort of sickly sweet, like something slowly rotting. Linnet wondered how she had not noticed it before, but it somehow seemed to fit this horrid place. She took a couple more steps, half dragging James in her eagerness, though she still kept away from Hassen. Every time Hassen made a move, Linnet froze again, looking at him with a slight fear in her large, mismatched eyes.
Finally, she came parallel to the door and peered inside, unable to really see anything in the dim lighting. Shooting Hassen another, almost warning glance to make sure he was not coming closer. She went closer to the opening, acting as if something might jump out at her. The stench only grew as she approach, making her want to gag.
Finally, her eyes fell on a figure in the bed. She gasped, nearly dropping James as she saw the horribly mangled bits of what might have been a face at one time. Suddenly, the overpowering odor made sense. It was from a decaying dead body. Linnet quickly stumbled back, tripping on the carpet and falling hard to the floor with James falling almost entirely on top of her.
The fall knocked the wind out of her lungs and she tried not to loose what little was in her stomach. Finally, she began to catch her breath, which was coming out in loud, dry sobs. She sat up, helping James to do likewise, before speaking breathlessly. "W... when did.... why... is there a dea... dead man in the.... in the room?" she stammered. She spoke again, half to herself, "Musta been.. dead a long time...." The questions were not to anyone in particular, and Linnet herself seemed to be in a daze as she stared blankly at the door. She thought she had been ready for anything, but not this. This was horrible sight was worse than she could have imagined.
She lifted him up again; he tried to help as best he could, his knees trembling beneath him. He felt so useless. Linnie couldn't fight or flee with him there as dead weight. And he couldn't protect her. He was very much reminded of his current vulnerability as she moved herself between him and Hassan. His body tensed as far as it could as he stared at the other male, his head lolling off to one side as he did so. The male made a plaintive sound, pointing towards the previously vacated room. No. No. That wouldn't...Drake would be angry if...James made a soft, frantic sound, trying to get his feet under him so he could pull Linnie away. Hassan took a few steps forward and Linnie backpedaled, tripping over his limp feet in the process. He clutched at her shoulders, trying not to fall, eyes still fixed on Hassan. He made a quiet growling sound, a warning, though he couldn't keep the threat.
Linnie didn't continue moving backwards. She stopped after a few paces, paused, then began moving forward, skirting Hassan. Her aim was quite obviously the room. He began to struggle weakly, but she paid him little attention, merely dragging him along after her. No, no, no, he couldn't let this happen. If she...it would ruin everything...and Hassan would...Suddenly his panic was interrupted by Linnie's reaction to Alexander. She fell backwards, taking him with her. His exclamation was partially pain and partially despair. He would be punished for this. Though in hall honesty, it really was Drake's fault for putting him in this state in the first place. If he wasn't so terribly wounded he could have just pulled Linnie away at the first sign of a threat. But now, if they lost control of Hassan everything would fall into a terrible mess. The existence they'd eked out would have to be changed again for the second time in less than a year.
He barely noticed Linnie helping him sit up as his panic was nearly blind. He could hear her terrified breaths though. And then she spoke. James flinched, though the words were soft, as if she was talking to herself. Hopefully Hassan wouldn't understand what she was saying, or he wouldn't believe it. Though the fates had never once worked in James's favour, and they likely wouldn't start turning now.
The best course of action would be to be prepared for anything. he didn't know how Hassan would react at all. The man was so sporadic, perhaps because his mental health had rapidly declined from the moment he stepped foot in the manour. There was nothing James could really do but protect Linnie. Drake might have been able to do something, but James did not have that way with words. Or any way with words, really. His body language wasn't even that convincing most of the time.
The boy managed to haul himself from a sitting position to standing upright on his knees, swaying slightly. It required a huge amount of effort, but James forced himself to stay as still as possible, looking up Hassan and putting himself between the taller male and Linnie. There was fear in his eyes, but he did his best to hide it under a blanket of blankness. Just as long as nothing too terrible happened, Drake could fix things later. It would be okay. He just had to keep calm and absorb whatever happened.
For a moment, the creature called Drake simply stared at him and Saber began to wonder if there was going to be an answer. In response to the silent staring, Saber simply gazed back. There was no fear in his eyes, only curiosity. At the "man's" comment about Lira, Saber smirked for a moment. The corpse must be named Lira. Or it had been, before the life-defining-thing had been lost or turned off or escaped. Maybe it wasn't really even part of them to begin with. Maybe that life-defining-thing was simply something inhabiting them. When any particular meatsuit passed it's date of expiry, the thing simply jumped to a different host. Viewed this way, life was parasitic. It made sense, since life was a condition that was also terminal. No one could be cured of life. Maybe you could escape it somehow instead of just expiring. But that was a philosophical tangent for another time.
Right now Saber should be focusing on the murderous creature looking at him so intently and stepping forward. Oh, goodness. Now Drake was speaking. He probably had had such a strange expression on his face while Drake continued. Time to fix that an put on something more appropriate to the situation. Saber adopted an expression of interest and attentiveness. "It's not the stomach that I have to worry about in this particular situation, but rather the lack of strength. I can't say I'm particularly strong with a knife." A bold faced lie, but it did not matter. Saber had sensed the challenge to his abilities and sort of side-stepped the issue. He smiled slightly at Drake. He would not flinch away from blood. It was the best proof that something had been alive, he supposed. That liquid was what kept them all moving.
That crunching sound broke Saber's concentration. Did it really take such light pressure to break their very structure? Saber brought his hand forward and lightly pushed on the back of his own hand, testing the strength. They seemed durable enough, but perhaps once that life-giving-thing escaped you, the strength went with it. Curious. It would be something he may wanted to investigate further when he had the time. If he ever got the time. It was very possible that he may not escape this alive, but that did not seem to bother him. He supposed he may be the youngest "player" here and therefore have the most to lose. His father often argued something along those lines, so perhaps it was true to some extent.
While Drake's attention shifted back to Mrs. Valentine, Saber quietly pocketed a butter knife he had left off the table. Even a dull knife was better than none at all. In fact, even a spoon could be useful in a pinch. For a few moments, Saber simply watched the body as it slid into a sitting position. Curiouser and curious. Even without the life-defining-thing, a body seemed to want to move as it once had. This whole life and death business was too complicated to delve into at the moment. Finally, Saber shook his head slightly and broke his almost meditative thought process.
"As the lady clearly has no desire for my company any longer and you two appear to be having a conversation on your own, I will leave you to it." Saber said with a small smile. He bowed his head slightly. "Mrs. Valentine. Master Drake." With that, he left the room. He as curious about the other players. How would they be working this? While Saber was not the type of person to be the first to kill, he may have to. Truly, he would have preferred to simply sit back and let the others do the messy work for him for a bit. Then he would simply swoop in when needed and claim his victory. For all he knew, though, his victory only meant that he would be killed last.
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View All » Add Character » 21 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Juliet Lockwood
"I am only here to protect the young heir, nothing else."
Andrew white
"Dance, little puppets."
Saber Cantin
Pompous prince
Dante Valentine
"If this is a joke, then it is not funny."
Alexander
What's there to know?
Dominic Brecht
"You know you can't resist me." *Dead*
Allease LaVera
"I think I've gone mad..."
Linnet Mallory
"You never forget who you really are... no matter how many nights you stay awake trying to,"
Elizabeth Richardson
"Um, would you mind letting me go?"
Trending
James Butler
"Sometimes it is best just to watch from a distance and bow when asked a question."
Dominic Brecht
"You know you can't resist me." *Dead*
Drake Stuart
"You will play and you will like it. Or die trying. Or just die. Either way is fine with me."
Andrew white
"Dance, little puppets."
Saber Cantin
Pompous prince
Allease LaVera
"I think I've gone mad..."
Dante Valentine
"If this is a joke, then it is not funny."
Alexander
What's there to know?
Linnet Mallory
"You never forget who you really are... no matter how many nights you stay awake trying to,"
Most Followed
James Butler
"Sometimes it is best just to watch from a distance and bow when asked a question."
Elizabeth Richardson
"Um, would you mind letting me go?"
Dante Valentine
"If this is a joke, then it is not funny."
Saber Cantin
Pompous prince
Drake Stuart
"You will play and you will like it. Or die trying. Or just die. Either way is fine with me."
Dominic Brecht
"You know you can't resist me." *Dead*
Juliet Lockwood
"I am only here to protect the young heir, nothing else."
Allease LaVera
"I think I've gone mad..."
Andrew white
"Dance, little puppets."
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Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » Knock 'em Dead: Out of Character
Discussions
Most recent OOC posts in Knock 'em Dead
Re: Knock 'Em Dead
One of the lasses from the first chapter(Toki) popped by a few days ago and asked if I wanted to revive this thing. So I told her that I'd be up for doing a bit of AU, and that I would see if I could gather some people to play~
The AU happens between the timeline of the first and the second, in a little bit of a different direction, it's less focused on killing each other and a bit more on the other topics tied to ethics and morals and all that lot, but it seems to promise to be pretty good, and I'd love it if any of y'all wanted to drop by, even if for just a bit :3
Here's the link:
roleplay/dead-men-dont-lie#introduction
It's just going to be a small thing, just a few of us, so yeah. You can make new characters or I can plot your character back into the mix :3 Just shoot me a PM or pop by the OOC and we'll put you in!
Thanks cupcakes <3
Re: Knock 'Em Dead
Re: Knock 'Em Dead
Re: Knock 'Em Dead
If y'all ever want a reboot, hit me up :3 I'll be here~
And thanks to you guys, Sclam, Non, Mel, for hanging around. ('specially you, Sclam, you're the only one of the original crew for this chapter left XD the other four disappeared along the way)
<3
Re: Knock 'Em Dead
You have to admit, the fact that we actually managed to finish the first chapter and even got this far with the second chapter was very impressive! Thanks all around to those that stuck with us for this long, but especially to you, Pie. You ran this very well! :)
Re: Knock 'Em Dead
Quite honest, I'm ready to give up the noble fight of this game. Maybe I'll revive it in the future, pick you guys up if you're still around and game, but I think the last hurrah here was about a month ago.
Love all you guys for participating though <3 we had a good 139 posts :3
Re: Knock 'Em Dead
Firstly, Pie, I may have to temporarily withdraw from this RP since I can't be active enough and It's slowing everyone down. ;n; Send me a PM and we'll discuss what can be done.
I'm currently really focused on my health. I've been sick to my stomach for seemingly no reason and, so far, all of the various tests - mostly blood tests - have come back normal. I can't eat and I spend all day sick to my stomach. I have, on average, one day a week where I feel good enough to do anything and I usually use that time to catch up on chores that I normally do. For the past 1-2 months, I have been incapable of eating truly solid food. I actually spent the last two weeks being unable to eat anything but soup broth and Jello. For the past month, I've been sleeping 12+ hours a day because my medicine makes me so tired. I have no energy to exercise and I've lost roughly 7-8 lbs. in two months. It's to the point now where I am borderline severely underweight. (Apparently I grew, so I'm now 5'5" and I only weight about 107-108.)
When I first got sick, I spent a week throwing up so my doctor gave me Ondansetron, which is heavy-duty anti-nausea medicine. Normally you only need 4 mg but the doctor deemed it necessary to give me 8 mg - the absolute most that the human body can handle without serious side effects. Even that hasn't been making me better. I have to take at least one a day for me to even be able to function. My last doctor thought I had diabetes, tested me for it, and then told me not to worry about anything when the test came back negative. I went to one of my mom's doctors and they're doing a lot more tests to try and figure out what's wrong. They refilled my Ondansetron prescription and gave me a prescription of some even stronger anti-nausea medication since the Ondansetron doesn't always help. I also had to go on some heavy-duty acid-reflux medicine, as well. The doctor says that there's a possibility that I may need to have an upper GI endoscopy.
On top of all of this, my mom had eye surgery and works all day at her store. Normally I help out but now I'm stuck at home so my brother goes to help. Throw in a lovely array of mental issues - namely mild OCD, moderate depression, and General Anxiety Disorder (GAD) - and I'm a lovely basket case of health issues.
Sorry for such a long post. I'm just sick and tired of being so sick and inactive.
TL;DR I have a lot of mental and physical health issues going on that are getting progressively worse and no one can figure out what's going on. :C
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On the other hand, I'm going to try to get back to posting once a week, but I really can't promise anything.
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Uhg, I don't even want to think about that XD I'll just enjoy my apathy for now XD
Don't worry, XD Y'all make me feel incredibly little XD
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And yet again, you are making me feel old. -.-
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And I hope the process goes well for you, Seijun.
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And don't worry, I'll be gone campus viewing at that point in time, so I really don't expect for anything to happen until school season starts up again and everyone gets comfortable.