RPG
Introduction
Sheffield, UK, the modern day. Whilst most of the population go about the mundanity of their lives- going out to buy a pint of milk, getting that job promotion, dying- there exists a seething supernatural underbelly just out of sight that all but a special few (humans, that is) are completely oblivious to. Vampires are real, you see. Ghosts too. Even werewolves. And they'd prefer it if the general public stayed blissfully unaware of the fact that their children's primary school teacher had a few more issues at that time of the month than most women. Or that the man who's chatting up their mate at the bar will, when they eventually get down to it later tonight, rip her throat out and drain her dry. Or that Auntie Julie, who died six months ago beneath the wheels of the No. 38 to Ashdown Sainsburys, is the reason why the pipes in the upstairs bathroom keep playing up whenever Uncle Charlie brings his new missus over. What would happen?
That's not to say that all of these... non-humans like what's happening to them. There's a few who envy humanity for their, well, humanity. All they want to do is be human.
Now for the humanity-challenged inhabitants of the blue house on Windsor Terrace, Sheffield who try so desperately to fit in with their unsuspecting neighbours...
Humans- Bog-standard run-of-the-mill Homo sapiens. You know all about them because, presumably, you are one.
Vampires- Some of the cliches apply. They're not fond of a tan but that won't stop them going outside during the day. Religious symbols have the same effect as nettle stings or standing next to a barbecue with the wind blowing in the wrong direction; it'll make their eyes sting but it won't stop them for long. They can survive without blood but it's not pleasant. The animal instinct and need to drink never completely goes away and, for the few who have managed to go teetotal, it eats away at them every minute of every day. Refrigerated blood or blood from other vampires might stave it off for a while but not for very long. When a vampire does attack a victim, they can make the conscious choice to 'recruit' them to become one of their own kind or leave them to die. However, they don't have super-human strength and whilst they have more than their fair share of lookers... Let's just say everyone has had that one night stand they regret, right?
And now the pros: physically, they remain the same age as when they were recruited but if one were to be hooked up to an ECG monitor, let's just say a doctor might begin to get extremely confused. They can survive all but the most devastating wounds (and some say that there are even ways to bring them back from fatal ones). The only way to kill them for certain is to, of course, stake them through the heart. Unlike the other supernaturals, they are organised, with a network of vampires occupying well-placed positions in society in order to cover up the occasional gruesome murder.
Oh, and they can't be photographed. Tricky when you need that passport to go on holiday to the Costa del Sol (not that sunbathing is particularly high on the agenda).
Werewolves- For one night a month, these guys change into something that resembles a wolf but is far, far nastier. Whilst they're transformed, they have no control over what they do (or eat) and the process has been described as something akin to breaking every bone in your body. Repeatedly. The old-timers, those that have had many months to figure out a strategy, often have elaborate set-ups to help them avoid hurting others or revealing themselves whilst transformed. Some head out to the woods, circling pieces of meat around a remote area so their werewolf selves are occupied throughout the night. Others have basements. Werewolves are made, not born, and there are always a few instances when they get lazy- perhaps they don't drag that Tescos chicken in a wide-enough circle or perhaps they didn't account for those pair of walkers camping out in the warm weather. Or perhaps, they just didn't care. Either way, if you're lucky enough to survive a werewolf attack, I'd start thinking about investing in that reinforced steel cage, if I were you.
Unlike vampires, their life-spans are normal but they often live nomadic lives, constantly trying to find that perfect transformation spot or moving away from the family of the boy scout they've passed the curse on to. They can't change at will so their affliction is something that defines them once a month, and once a month only.
Ghosts- There's more of them than you think. Most of the time, a dead soul will blink a few times at their mangled/emaciated/wired-up body then, before they know it, a door will appear before their eyes. It might be a polished oak-paneled eighteenth century door for the ex-QC or it might be a glass-fronted door with pink glittery writing for the ex-hairdresser. But each door will open and the soul can pass through to... whatever the hell waits them on the other side. Simple.
Not necessarily. What if there was no door? Some unfortunates have to wait until they've sorted out whatever unfinished business they still have in the mortal world. Which can be difficult when how visible you are fluctuates with your mood and supernatural power. Most ghosts will never be visible to anyone but each other and their fellow non-human misfits (vampires and werewolves, that is) though they generally have the ability to interact with real life objects and many find that circuits short and bulbs flicker when they get really fucked off.
Eventually, however, their door tends to appear. The majority leave through it. Why bother to stick around when your loved ones, unable to see or feel you, are growing old and moving on while watch helplessly? There are a few who don't. There are a few who ignore their calling to the afterlife and risk upsetting the beings that lie beyond until they learn to forcibly close the door themselves.
But these are few indeed. Imagine what it must be like to exist, only as an observer, unable to eat, drink or sleep, unable to be seen by normal humans, unable to be felt, except as the faintest of tingles by werewolves or vampires.
Rules
Character Sheets
Feel free to use your initiative. What I would say is that (unless you'd rather it be revealed in-RP), include how your character became what they are i.e. when/who they were converted/bitten/killed by. Otherwise, I leave it to you! I'm pretty ambivalent about character sheets so use the one given to you or create your own.
Although, realistic pictures are alright but anime or cartoon pictures are definitely not. A text description of appearance is a must.
Writing
Post should be of a decent length and quality. Let your writing shine and don't be afraid to ladle a few juicy dollops of dark comedy all over it. I'm not even going to talk about god-modding... We're all grown-ups here.
OOC
Communal brainstorming, plot twists and private plotting is encouraged but keep it OOC. If you're not sure about something, discuss it with everyone else!
Feel free to use your initiative. What I would say is that (unless you'd rather it be revealed in-RP), include how your character became what they are i.e. when/who they were converted/bitten/killed by. Otherwise, I leave it to you! I'm pretty ambivalent about character sheets so use the one given to you or create your own.
Although, realistic pictures are alright but anime or cartoon pictures are definitely not. A text description of appearance is a must.
Writing
Post should be of a decent length and quality. Let your writing shine and don't be afraid to ladle a few juicy dollops of dark comedy all over it. I'm not even going to talk about god-modding... We're all grown-ups here.
OOC
Communal brainstorming, plot twists and private plotting is encouraged but keep it OOC. If you're not sure about something, discuss it with everyone else!
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Alice "Fuzzy" Tailor played by VitaminHeart
"'Hungry Like the Wolf' has gone from a song to a lifestyle."
Rodney Killick played by wednesdaysun
"Don't get your knickers in a twist. I don't bite. Hold on. I do bite."
Visit »The Orphanage
These poor, unfortunate souls were once a part of this great world, but have been abandoned. Why don't you consider viewing their profiles and making a decision on whether or not you can roleplay them accurately?
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Places in Life, or something like it
16 postsPlanet Earth
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- 16 posts here • Page 1 of 1
OOC Notes
Freddy had been sitting on his neighbour's couch watching Countdown when it happened again.
The weekday ritual of joining eighty-three year old May Turnpike in her front room with a cup of tea and a hobnob (her) or a phantom cigarette (him) in order to scoff at the infeasibly obscure words the contestants came up with (her) or ogle the arse on Vorderman's replacement (him) had become something he looked forward to. So when the balding head of Francis Higgs bobbed past the window, Freddy was not only pissed off because it meant that there must be another potential tenant viewing his house but also because he would have to miss out on today's Conundrum.
"The silly prick's back, May," Freddy said conversationally to the elderly woman as he stood up and stretched. Having no corporeal body, the stretching was unnecessary but it was funny how these little habits hung around.
May Turnpike made no sign that she'd noticed the ghostly former heroin addict standing in front of her and took another sip of her Earl Grey.
"You'd think they'd have got the picture by now and passed the place onto another estate agents, wouldn't you? I guess Higgsy wants to get his chubby hands on that commission," he went on, going over to the window and peering through the net curtains. A woman was following Higgs across the street towards the blue-painted house. She had short-bobbed dirty blonde hair but her figure was almost completely disguised by a god-awful khaki-coloured parka coat.
"Well, I'd better go and persuade blondie over there that the house isn't for her. You take care now, May," he said, patting a phantom hand on the old woman's shoulder. "Go easy on the hobnobs. I don't want you having a heart attack before tomorrow's episode."
With that, he disappeared. May Turnpike absent-mindedly reached for her shoulder.
He appeared in the kitchen of the blue house just in time to hear the sound of the lock turning and Higgs stepping inside the hallway. Freddy kept the place reasonably clean (it was amazing how much housework you could get done when your mind wasn't forever considering where you were going to get your next fix) but old-fashioned wallpaper and mish-mash of furnishings left over from numerous short-term occupants who tended to leave in a hurry meant it didn't have the most polished of first-impressions.
Deciding to wait until an opportune moment to send a vase crashing to the floor, Freddy remained in the kitchen doorway and watched as Higgs lead the viewer into the living room.
"Authentic vintage decor like this is very hard to come by these days," he was saying, gesturing to a particularly garish wall decked out in a orange and brown bamboo print. "But of course, you could always strip it and paint if you prefer a more contemporary finish. Hardwood floors," he added, stamping his foot on the floorboards. "You'll be getting a bargain, you and your... is it a boyfriend you're moving in here with?" Higgs said unsubtly.
"God, you're a dick," said Freddy loudly.
The weekday ritual of joining eighty-three year old May Turnpike in her front room with a cup of tea and a hobnob (her) or a phantom cigarette (him) in order to scoff at the infeasibly obscure words the contestants came up with (her) or ogle the arse on Vorderman's replacement (him) had become something he looked forward to. So when the balding head of Francis Higgs bobbed past the window, Freddy was not only pissed off because it meant that there must be another potential tenant viewing his house but also because he would have to miss out on today's Conundrum.
"The silly prick's back, May," Freddy said conversationally to the elderly woman as he stood up and stretched. Having no corporeal body, the stretching was unnecessary but it was funny how these little habits hung around.
May Turnpike made no sign that she'd noticed the ghostly former heroin addict standing in front of her and took another sip of her Earl Grey.
"You'd think they'd have got the picture by now and passed the place onto another estate agents, wouldn't you? I guess Higgsy wants to get his chubby hands on that commission," he went on, going over to the window and peering through the net curtains. A woman was following Higgs across the street towards the blue-painted house. She had short-bobbed dirty blonde hair but her figure was almost completely disguised by a god-awful khaki-coloured parka coat.
"Well, I'd better go and persuade blondie over there that the house isn't for her. You take care now, May," he said, patting a phantom hand on the old woman's shoulder. "Go easy on the hobnobs. I don't want you having a heart attack before tomorrow's episode."
With that, he disappeared. May Turnpike absent-mindedly reached for her shoulder.
He appeared in the kitchen of the blue house just in time to hear the sound of the lock turning and Higgs stepping inside the hallway. Freddy kept the place reasonably clean (it was amazing how much housework you could get done when your mind wasn't forever considering where you were going to get your next fix) but old-fashioned wallpaper and mish-mash of furnishings left over from numerous short-term occupants who tended to leave in a hurry meant it didn't have the most polished of first-impressions.
Deciding to wait until an opportune moment to send a vase crashing to the floor, Freddy remained in the kitchen doorway and watched as Higgs lead the viewer into the living room.
"Authentic vintage decor like this is very hard to come by these days," he was saying, gesturing to a particularly garish wall decked out in a orange and brown bamboo print. "But of course, you could always strip it and paint if you prefer a more contemporary finish. Hardwood floors," he added, stamping his foot on the floorboards. "You'll be getting a bargain, you and your... is it a boyfriend you're moving in here with?" Higgs said unsubtly.
"God, you're a dick," said Freddy loudly.
OOC Notes
It was the morning after the night before.
She couldn't remember anything after about ten pm, she'd thrown up twice and she feld like her head was stuck in a vice. It was almost like a big night out...well except for the several minutes of blinding, gut-wrenching agony beforehand, and the aftermath that generally involved extracting whatever animal she'd been chewing on from around her face. On the menu the night before had been fox...and the contents of a discarded rubbish bag. She had had to hurriedly brush the chunks of bloody fur and rubbish sack from her mouth and get changed before arriving, though a few shreds of leaf still clung in her frizzy hair in a few places, making it look like she'd been dragged through a hedge. Technically she probably had.
It was definitely one of the worst times to be viewing a house. Still it wasn't as if she had a lot of choice. Alice Taylor needed to move in somewhere soon, having spent the last few weeks staying in a travellodge while she looked for something suitable. She'd been living in Newcastle before, and had managed a few months in one level of a block of flats. The place had had a concrete-lined basement that was practically soundproof, making it great for wolfy nights...but unfortunately there had been a small gap that allowed compact forms to enter and exit the room..and when the area's cats began to wander in there and go missing unexpectedly, they had boarded the place up, and it had been time to move on.
So there she was, looking a little more..earthy than was ideal, standing in the hallway of this strange little blue house and looking at the frankenstein-esque mismatching of the furniture. She was also inwardly terrified about why the balding man showing her round was keen to know about her relationship status.
"Just me." she responded, before clearing her throat slightly, her other side having also decided to gift her with some hoarseness from howling its head off all night no doubt.
"Just me for the moment."
It was at that point that another voice caught her attention and she looked round, catching sight of someone else. A young man in a trenchcoat who was openly insulting the man, something that, since it wasn't followed by an immediate horrfied reaction, made her quickly realize his nature.
She stood staring at Freddy for a few seconds, gave a weary sigh and then quickly went over to examine the glazing on one of the front windows.
It had a bloody ghost. Just what she needed.
This was the only half decent property in her price range and she was going to be sharing it with an opinionated dead guy. Now it wasn't that Alice hated all ghosts, she wasn't dead-ist or anything...it was mainly the problem that they were astonishingly distracting, and had a tendency to want to talk with her. Now it was fine for the ghosts, no-one could see or hear them. What people could see though, was Alice, a unkempt twenty-sometihng loner who spent more time in local woods than was really necessary, having an involved conversation with a patch of air next to her.
Basically, ghosts were the quickest shotcut to getting sectioned that she knew of.
Still, she couldn't let all this put her off. Alice took a deep breath and turned back to the form of Mr Higgs, forcing a smile onto her face.
"Yes, it looks very nice, could I have a loook upstairs?"
She couldn't remember anything after about ten pm, she'd thrown up twice and she feld like her head was stuck in a vice. It was almost like a big night out...well except for the several minutes of blinding, gut-wrenching agony beforehand, and the aftermath that generally involved extracting whatever animal she'd been chewing on from around her face. On the menu the night before had been fox...and the contents of a discarded rubbish bag. She had had to hurriedly brush the chunks of bloody fur and rubbish sack from her mouth and get changed before arriving, though a few shreds of leaf still clung in her frizzy hair in a few places, making it look like she'd been dragged through a hedge. Technically she probably had.
It was definitely one of the worst times to be viewing a house. Still it wasn't as if she had a lot of choice. Alice Taylor needed to move in somewhere soon, having spent the last few weeks staying in a travellodge while she looked for something suitable. She'd been living in Newcastle before, and had managed a few months in one level of a block of flats. The place had had a concrete-lined basement that was practically soundproof, making it great for wolfy nights...but unfortunately there had been a small gap that allowed compact forms to enter and exit the room..and when the area's cats began to wander in there and go missing unexpectedly, they had boarded the place up, and it had been time to move on.
So there she was, looking a little more..earthy than was ideal, standing in the hallway of this strange little blue house and looking at the frankenstein-esque mismatching of the furniture. She was also inwardly terrified about why the balding man showing her round was keen to know about her relationship status.
"Just me." she responded, before clearing her throat slightly, her other side having also decided to gift her with some hoarseness from howling its head off all night no doubt.
"Just me for the moment."
It was at that point that another voice caught her attention and she looked round, catching sight of someone else. A young man in a trenchcoat who was openly insulting the man, something that, since it wasn't followed by an immediate horrfied reaction, made her quickly realize his nature.
She stood staring at Freddy for a few seconds, gave a weary sigh and then quickly went over to examine the glazing on one of the front windows.
It had a bloody ghost. Just what she needed.
This was the only half decent property in her price range and she was going to be sharing it with an opinionated dead guy. Now it wasn't that Alice hated all ghosts, she wasn't dead-ist or anything...it was mainly the problem that they were astonishingly distracting, and had a tendency to want to talk with her. Now it was fine for the ghosts, no-one could see or hear them. What people could see though, was Alice, a unkempt twenty-sometihng loner who spent more time in local woods than was really necessary, having an involved conversation with a patch of air next to her.
Basically, ghosts were the quickest shotcut to getting sectioned that she knew of.
Still, she couldn't let all this put her off. Alice took a deep breath and turned back to the form of Mr Higgs, forcing a smile onto her face.
"Yes, it looks very nice, could I have a loook upstairs?"
OOC Notes
The night prior, at around eight, Rodney had made his umpteenth departure from yet another small motel, this time somewhere in Rotherham. He knew it would just be another insignificant event in his miserably longevous existence. In fact, the only thing that made the experience seem less insignificant was their shite coffee. Or that could've just been him. Most of the other occupants seemed to dully enjoy the thing. He was glad to be rid of the place; the cross in his room was beginning to annoy him greatly.
He arrived at Sheffield not really long after, and again was left to wander around the city. Funny how he'd always reminisce about all these cities, and how he remembered every detail of what they used to look like. It always reminded him how old he was just by looking at all the buildings around him. The steel industry here thrived so long ago. There were steel mills littering the city like trash, and he'd seen crucibles as early as then. He'd killed a young wench here, sucked her dry. The stream of blood along her smooth skin, paling with loss of blood. Licking her dry. He squinted and tried to get a grip of himself. A minuscule laugh and a head shake later, he was off to find yet another abysmal motel. Possibly with more shite coffee.
How he wished the walls were soundproofed. The sounds of intimacy from the room behind him and the sound of arguments in Hindi coming from the other were the welcoming sounds of the morning. The stream of light hitting him in the eyes from the break in the cheap blinds was the welcoming sight. He groaned with a passion unmatched by any other non-morning person and as the sounds continued to intensify, he was left with no other choice. "DON'T BLOODY YELL IN YOUR BLOODY ROOMS!" Immediately, the noises stopped. For a moment, there was peace. A good five minutes of sleep. Until the motel's owner came upstairs and knocked at his door, telling him off for yelling. "Oh, fuck off, I'm not fucking three. I'm paying to stay here," he said groggily, taking the sheets away from his bare torso. "I won't be long, anyway."
There was nothing else he could do but suck on his last bag of blood. There wasn't a single refrigerator in sight. Could this've been worse? He allowed it to fill him, at least for a while. A chunk went up his throat. This was ridiculous. It was starting to coagulate. He scrunched up his nose in mild disgust, and swirled it around to at least dislodge the parts. When he had finally been sated, he hid the bag in a plastic bag and shoved it in his knapsack, hoping nobody'd come and ransack the room looking for something precious. Taking precaution, he produced several perfectly preserved daguerreotypes from his bag, the only things that he treasured the most since before his recruiting, in the small, seemingly useless safe, before he left the room and locked to door to start wandering about again, looking for something to do. Perhaps he'd take a tour of modern Sheffield again.
He arrived at Sheffield not really long after, and again was left to wander around the city. Funny how he'd always reminisce about all these cities, and how he remembered every detail of what they used to look like. It always reminded him how old he was just by looking at all the buildings around him. The steel industry here thrived so long ago. There were steel mills littering the city like trash, and he'd seen crucibles as early as then. He'd killed a young wench here, sucked her dry. The stream of blood along her smooth skin, paling with loss of blood. Licking her dry. He squinted and tried to get a grip of himself. A minuscule laugh and a head shake later, he was off to find yet another abysmal motel. Possibly with more shite coffee.
How he wished the walls were soundproofed. The sounds of intimacy from the room behind him and the sound of arguments in Hindi coming from the other were the welcoming sounds of the morning. The stream of light hitting him in the eyes from the break in the cheap blinds was the welcoming sight. He groaned with a passion unmatched by any other non-morning person and as the sounds continued to intensify, he was left with no other choice. "DON'T BLOODY YELL IN YOUR BLOODY ROOMS!" Immediately, the noises stopped. For a moment, there was peace. A good five minutes of sleep. Until the motel's owner came upstairs and knocked at his door, telling him off for yelling. "Oh, fuck off, I'm not fucking three. I'm paying to stay here," he said groggily, taking the sheets away from his bare torso. "I won't be long, anyway."
There was nothing else he could do but suck on his last bag of blood. There wasn't a single refrigerator in sight. Could this've been worse? He allowed it to fill him, at least for a while. A chunk went up his throat. This was ridiculous. It was starting to coagulate. He scrunched up his nose in mild disgust, and swirled it around to at least dislodge the parts. When he had finally been sated, he hid the bag in a plastic bag and shoved it in his knapsack, hoping nobody'd come and ransack the room looking for something precious. Taking precaution, he produced several perfectly preserved daguerreotypes from his bag, the only things that he treasured the most since before his recruiting, in the small, seemingly useless safe, before he left the room and locked to door to start wandering about again, looking for something to do. Perhaps he'd take a tour of modern Sheffield again.
OOC Notes
Freddy was not expecting what happened next. The girl turned around at the sound of his voice. Turned around. An actual flesh and blood person hearing the sound of his voice.
"You heard me!" he said, in shock. "You did! You heard me! You're not human, are you?" he added, striding over and standing directly between her and Higgs. He waved a hand in front of her face and grinned broadly. Behind him, Higgs tried not to look too excited, taking her 'for the moment' as a sign of encouragement.
"Of course, of course," he said enthusiastically, gesturing for her to go first up the narrow staircase first. "The view out of the bedroom is really rather good. Right out over the moor above the houses..."
"Yoohooo, blondie! There's no point in pretending," Freddy was saying. "Honestly, I'm an open-minded guy. Let's see... I don't think you're a blood-sucker; there's a little too much colour in your cheeks for that. That and it's a nice day outside but behold, no sunnies!" He eyed her sceptically when she moved towards the stairs and pressed the tips of his fingers to his temples in the manner of a psychic performing at a seance. "From the twig in your hair I'm seeing... something... wolfy."
Higgs began to follow Alice up the stairs but Freddy casually nudged a clock off a side table and he flinched in a way that suggested he had encountered something of that nature before.
"Er... Perhaps I'll just give you some space, work up an inventory down here," he said nervously. "Go ahead."
Freddy grinned and disappeared, reappearing at the head of the stairs.
"I think you should take the house," he said.
"You heard me!" he said, in shock. "You did! You heard me! You're not human, are you?" he added, striding over and standing directly between her and Higgs. He waved a hand in front of her face and grinned broadly. Behind him, Higgs tried not to look too excited, taking her 'for the moment' as a sign of encouragement.
"Of course, of course," he said enthusiastically, gesturing for her to go first up the narrow staircase first. "The view out of the bedroom is really rather good. Right out over the moor above the houses..."
"Yoohooo, blondie! There's no point in pretending," Freddy was saying. "Honestly, I'm an open-minded guy. Let's see... I don't think you're a blood-sucker; there's a little too much colour in your cheeks for that. That and it's a nice day outside but behold, no sunnies!" He eyed her sceptically when she moved towards the stairs and pressed the tips of his fingers to his temples in the manner of a psychic performing at a seance. "From the twig in your hair I'm seeing... something... wolfy."
Higgs began to follow Alice up the stairs but Freddy casually nudged a clock off a side table and he flinched in a way that suggested he had encountered something of that nature before.
"Er... Perhaps I'll just give you some space, work up an inventory down here," he said nervously. "Go ahead."
Freddy grinned and disappeared, reappearing at the head of the stairs.
"I think you should take the house," he said.
OOC Notes
Oh God. She was going to be sharing her house with a mouthy poltergheist.
Oh God. Baldy has taken what she said as some sort of...permission or something.
Oh God. The fox from the night before was strating to turn in her stomach again and threatened to make a violent re-appearance.
Alice hopped up the stairs a little more quickly and eagerly than was seemly, hurrying into one of the berooms before she whirled round to address the ghost. She was not in the best of moods, and it came out a little more terse than intended.
"Oh you think I should stay here do you? How kind of you..." she growled, unfastening the scarf she was wearing and backing up agaisnt the window.
She tried to keep her voice down, though then it occurred to her that maybe she should just carry on. Perhaps if Baldy heard her frantically talking to herself upstairs, it might put him off a little..hopefully not enough that he didn't hand the keys over..
Alice tended to use the 'slightly mental' persona as a good way to avoid people getting too interested in her personal life on occasion. She'd mastered the art of appearing just weird enough that people were put off talking to her, and not enough that it pushed them to actually do anything about it. Fortunately, this was Britain, so you had to do quite a lot to get someone to do something about anything that was not their business. She found that just being slightly weird was the best defense against being found out....agaisnt it being discovered that she was far more than slightly weird.
She glanced at the stairs, then at the ghost, dragging a few frizzy strands of blond hair from her face.
"..yes..I'm..well let's say I'm very busy on full moons..I'm trying to find somewhere where they don't know me..normally I'd avoid this place like the plague, but I am running out of money...running out of towns and running out of time so...listen...if you will stop throwing stuff around and keep Slaphead down there off my back then I'd be happy to move in."
Oh God. Baldy has taken what she said as some sort of...permission or something.
Oh God. The fox from the night before was strating to turn in her stomach again and threatened to make a violent re-appearance.
Alice hopped up the stairs a little more quickly and eagerly than was seemly, hurrying into one of the berooms before she whirled round to address the ghost. She was not in the best of moods, and it came out a little more terse than intended.
"Oh you think I should stay here do you? How kind of you..." she growled, unfastening the scarf she was wearing and backing up agaisnt the window.
She tried to keep her voice down, though then it occurred to her that maybe she should just carry on. Perhaps if Baldy heard her frantically talking to herself upstairs, it might put him off a little..hopefully not enough that he didn't hand the keys over..
Alice tended to use the 'slightly mental' persona as a good way to avoid people getting too interested in her personal life on occasion. She'd mastered the art of appearing just weird enough that people were put off talking to her, and not enough that it pushed them to actually do anything about it. Fortunately, this was Britain, so you had to do quite a lot to get someone to do something about anything that was not their business. She found that just being slightly weird was the best defense against being found out....agaisnt it being discovered that she was far more than slightly weird.
She glanced at the stairs, then at the ghost, dragging a few frizzy strands of blond hair from her face.
"..yes..I'm..well let's say I'm very busy on full moons..I'm trying to find somewhere where they don't know me..normally I'd avoid this place like the plague, but I am running out of money...running out of towns and running out of time so...listen...if you will stop throwing stuff around and keep Slaphead down there off my back then I'd be happy to move in."
OOC Notes
At her flustered acceptance, Freddy's grin, if possible, grew wider. Just half an hour ago he'd been watching Countdown with an oblivious octogenarian and now... Now, for the first time since he'd died he actually had a house-mate. A house-mate. He couldn't believe how normal it sounded when he mentally repeated it. One gloriously mundane step back towards humanity. Yeah, just heading back to cook dinner with my house-mate. Do you want to head down to the pub- I'll bring my house-mate. You should meet my house-mate, her name's...
Actually, what was she called?
"Easy tiger, no need to sound so enthusiastic," he said. "Full moon or not, I'm dead. Even the big bad wolf can't hurt me now. I'm Freddy, by the way," he added, holding out a hand for her to shake. His touch would be hardly more substantial than a cold tingle on her fingertips. "What's your name, blondie?"
Behind them, there was a sound from downstairs; Higgs was in the kitchen, tapping around the various pieces of odd crockery a dozen terrified occupants had hastily left in the two decades since Freddy had died. He was immediately irritated. What right had that stupid little man, who'd barely been out primary school when Freddy had been merrily speedballing away in this very house, to come here and start messing around with his property? He came close to shattering the bulb of the light that hung above the kitchen table before he calmed himself down. Blondie was here now and really, Higgs was just doing his job. It was due to him that she was even here. Twenty years of relative solitude ended because of a balding estate agent.
Perhaps he should do something nice for him for a change. Make him a cup of tea? No, too much. And besides, there was no milk or teabags (or running water come to think of it).
"Right! That's sorted. I'm sure Higgsy will be itching to have you sign the lease. Oh, and this is my room by the way. You know, first dibs and all that," he added.
The room they were standing in was small, the smallest of all four of the bedrooms upstairs and furnished simply with a large battered high-backed chair and an bookshelf which seemed to have burst at its seams and dribbled tottering piles of books and magazines along the wall adjacent to it. A table with an analogue radio stood by the chair. Freddy liked it because it was cosy and the window gave a decent view across the rooftops to the heather-blanketed hills beyond. That and it wasn't the room he'd died in.
Actually, what was she called?
"Easy tiger, no need to sound so enthusiastic," he said. "Full moon or not, I'm dead. Even the big bad wolf can't hurt me now. I'm Freddy, by the way," he added, holding out a hand for her to shake. His touch would be hardly more substantial than a cold tingle on her fingertips. "What's your name, blondie?"
Behind them, there was a sound from downstairs; Higgs was in the kitchen, tapping around the various pieces of odd crockery a dozen terrified occupants had hastily left in the two decades since Freddy had died. He was immediately irritated. What right had that stupid little man, who'd barely been out primary school when Freddy had been merrily speedballing away in this very house, to come here and start messing around with his property? He came close to shattering the bulb of the light that hung above the kitchen table before he calmed himself down. Blondie was here now and really, Higgs was just doing his job. It was due to him that she was even here. Twenty years of relative solitude ended because of a balding estate agent.
Perhaps he should do something nice for him for a change. Make him a cup of tea? No, too much. And besides, there was no milk or teabags (or running water come to think of it).
"Right! That's sorted. I'm sure Higgsy will be itching to have you sign the lease. Oh, and this is my room by the way. You know, first dibs and all that," he added.
The room they were standing in was small, the smallest of all four of the bedrooms upstairs and furnished simply with a large battered high-backed chair and an bookshelf which seemed to have burst at its seams and dribbled tottering piles of books and magazines along the wall adjacent to it. A table with an analogue radio stood by the chair. Freddy liked it because it was cosy and the window gave a decent view across the rooftops to the heather-blanketed hills beyond. That and it wasn't the room he'd died in.
OOC Notes
"Fine with me." Alice responded, absent-mindedly tugigng on the sleeve of her coat. Doing so revealed a large graze across the underside of her arm.
Huh, she hadn't noticed that one. What on earth had it been up to the night before, taking part in a boxing match?
She quickly looked up again at the ghost.
"Name's Alice, Alice Taylor." she replied.
The vampires in her last area had given her the nickname 'Fuzzy'. Partly due to the frizzy hair, partly becuase of her wolfy nature, and partly becuase most vampires were utter twats and thought they were hilarious. The dog treats and squeaky bones being put through the letter box really got old after a while.
"I'll take one of the other rooms...I'll say now..I probably will need use of the cellar once a month for...you know..doing my thing, but otherwise I don't really take up a lot of space." she made her way other to the doorway, giving the other rooms a cursory glance inside. Nothing special, but the place was still considerably nicern than any recent properties she'd been in, even if it did have a dead guy in it.
After a moment she slipped back downstairs, approaching Mr Higgs again, trying not to look too flastered by the events of the past couple of minutes.
"Uh...yeah...it looks like just what I was looking for, thank you." she announced, rooting around in her pocket of a pen.
"Where do a I sign?"
Huh, she hadn't noticed that one. What on earth had it been up to the night before, taking part in a boxing match?
She quickly looked up again at the ghost.
"Name's Alice, Alice Taylor." she replied.
The vampires in her last area had given her the nickname 'Fuzzy'. Partly due to the frizzy hair, partly becuase of her wolfy nature, and partly becuase most vampires were utter twats and thought they were hilarious. The dog treats and squeaky bones being put through the letter box really got old after a while.
"I'll take one of the other rooms...I'll say now..I probably will need use of the cellar once a month for...you know..doing my thing, but otherwise I don't really take up a lot of space." she made her way other to the doorway, giving the other rooms a cursory glance inside. Nothing special, but the place was still considerably nicern than any recent properties she'd been in, even if it did have a dead guy in it.
After a moment she slipped back downstairs, approaching Mr Higgs again, trying not to look too flastered by the events of the past couple of minutes.
"Uh...yeah...it looks like just what I was looking for, thank you." she announced, rooting around in her pocket of a pen.
"Where do a I sign?"
OOC Notes
Higgs, who'd been nervously opening cabinets in the kitchen to gaze forlornly at the various pieces of crockery left behind by hasty prior occupants, jumped at Alice's reappearance and looked as if he could scarcely believe his ears at her eagerness to sign the lease. This had to be his lucky day; a willing occupant for this dump and not only that but a half-way attractive one too. One just had to hope that she didn't buy into any of this 'haunted' nonsense. It was all rubbish, of course, but when the pipes had a tendency to rattle and vases occasionally dropped off tables seemingly by themselves, Higgs had to remind himself of this frequently.
"Oh- Oh right! Well, just here actually," he said, hurriedly taking his clipboard from his bag and handing it to her. "Sign there- and there. And you have our bank details to pay the deposit. I'll come round to do the inventory sometime later this week and er- perhaps we could grab a coffee or something?"
Not quite giving her enough time to decline or even realise that he'd hastily tacked an offer of a date onto the end of the sentence, he turned away to take a set of keys out of the pocket of his coat.
"There you are," he said, handing her a fob of keys that jangled as he placed them in her palm. In the background, the surprisingly lyrical strains of 'The Killing Moon' by Echo and the Bunnymen began to filter down Freddy's room. "Front door- two sets, another two for the back door. And that little one's for the cellar."
He smiled at her triumphantly and pulled on his raincoat, self-consciously smoothing down the remaining hairs on his head.
"Well, bye then," he said, opening the door. The fresh air hit him and he was glad; he'd always got the sense that he was unwelcome in the blue house and he preferred to spend as little time in it as possible. It was silly really, but it was a sense he'd found hard to shake. It was probably just because of the stories he'd heard about what had happened in it back in the early eighties...
"Let me know when would be the best time to pop over for the inventory," he added, before closing the door and leaving Alice alone in the hallway.
Briefly alone. No sooner had the door shut than Freddy appeared noiselessly beside her.
"Inventory, is that what the kids are calling it these days?" he said, taking a ghostly drag from the phantom cigarette that hung from the corner of his lips. "So, what do you want to do now? I'd offer a cup of tea but we're out of milk. And tea."
"Oh- Oh right! Well, just here actually," he said, hurriedly taking his clipboard from his bag and handing it to her. "Sign there- and there. And you have our bank details to pay the deposit. I'll come round to do the inventory sometime later this week and er- perhaps we could grab a coffee or something?"
Not quite giving her enough time to decline or even realise that he'd hastily tacked an offer of a date onto the end of the sentence, he turned away to take a set of keys out of the pocket of his coat.
"There you are," he said, handing her a fob of keys that jangled as he placed them in her palm. In the background, the surprisingly lyrical strains of 'The Killing Moon' by Echo and the Bunnymen began to filter down Freddy's room. "Front door- two sets, another two for the back door. And that little one's for the cellar."
He smiled at her triumphantly and pulled on his raincoat, self-consciously smoothing down the remaining hairs on his head.
"Well, bye then," he said, opening the door. The fresh air hit him and he was glad; he'd always got the sense that he was unwelcome in the blue house and he preferred to spend as little time in it as possible. It was silly really, but it was a sense he'd found hard to shake. It was probably just because of the stories he'd heard about what had happened in it back in the early eighties...
"Let me know when would be the best time to pop over for the inventory," he added, before closing the door and leaving Alice alone in the hallway.
Briefly alone. No sooner had the door shut than Freddy appeared noiselessly beside her.
"Inventory, is that what the kids are calling it these days?" he said, taking a ghostly drag from the phantom cigarette that hung from the corner of his lips. "So, what do you want to do now? I'd offer a cup of tea but we're out of milk. And tea."
OOC Notes
Alice repressed a shudder as she watched the door close.
And now slaphead was trying to make a move on her. That was just what she needed.
Being a semi-vagrant werewolf, her love life was hardly stellar, granted. That was probably something to do with both the fact that she hadn't stopped in a town for more than a couple of months at a time, and because she dressed in a manner to repell attention...and yet that had still apparently not discouraged that Higgs bloke. She had to admore his tenacity she supposed...but it was not really welcomed at the time.
Pushing that from her mind for the moment, she looked back over at Freddy.
"Well, as far as tea and milk goes..might be able to help there." she lifted her hand and jangled the set of keys.
"Being corporeal and having an income does come in handy sometimes."
She headed for the door and slid it open, adjusting her coat before making her way out onto the street. For a moment she hesitated, glancing back at the spirit.
"Can you..you know go outside?"
Alice wasn't entirely sure of the rules. She'd come across ghosts that wandered around quite freely. Others seemed rather fixed in place. It all came across as rather confusing...hopefully it wasn't considered an offensive question or anything.
And now slaphead was trying to make a move on her. That was just what she needed.
Being a semi-vagrant werewolf, her love life was hardly stellar, granted. That was probably something to do with both the fact that she hadn't stopped in a town for more than a couple of months at a time, and because she dressed in a manner to repell attention...and yet that had still apparently not discouraged that Higgs bloke. She had to admore his tenacity she supposed...but it was not really welcomed at the time.
Pushing that from her mind for the moment, she looked back over at Freddy.
"Well, as far as tea and milk goes..might be able to help there." she lifted her hand and jangled the set of keys.
"Being corporeal and having an income does come in handy sometimes."
She headed for the door and slid it open, adjusting her coat before making her way out onto the street. For a moment she hesitated, glancing back at the spirit.
"Can you..you know go outside?"
Alice wasn't entirely sure of the rules. She'd come across ghosts that wandered around quite freely. Others seemed rather fixed in place. It all came across as rather confusing...hopefully it wasn't considered an offensive question or anything.
OOC Notes
The low dramatic music emanating from the television set echoed through the slightly largish rooms of the flat. It seemed that this place was hollow, but at the same time you knew that people lived here once you set foot inside. Despite there being more than enough space for even four or five people to live in, only two people, two very space-loving creatures, lived there. Inside the living room, a young girl, her red hair contrasting with the streak of temporary neon blue, sat on the carpet watching a show that she never bothered to miss, even though sometimes she didn't understand it.
"Mum? Mum! What's 'deadist'?" the little girl called out to her mother, who was doing the washing up. If the girl had turned back to see her mother, she would've seen a look of surprise and the slightest hint of desperation not to answer her young daughter's question spread across her face like wildfire.
"It's a dead person racist, dear," she said. Immediately, the mother felt a weight come off her shoulders, and just in time for her fresh blue-eyed young girl to face her with another curious look about her face. Luckily, she didn't ask any more about 'deadism'. She had too much on her mind to think of the dead now.
"Mum, where are you going today? Are you asking Poppy to look after me again? Because I am getting really tired of her."
"She may be tiring, but she's our neighbor. Besides, she looks after you better than I ever will, so make the most out of it, will you?" the mother said in a slightly irritated but at the same time motherly voice. Immediately the young girl hushed herself to avoid any more argument. "Emily, I'm going to see your Uncle Rodney again, okay?"
"Mum, is he your boyfriend?" the girl asked yet again, a suspicious air in her mannerisms as she stared at her mum. She put the dishes down and looked at her little girl with the same intensity, but this time, it was mild annoyance.
"I've told you before, he isn't. He's your uncle," she corrected for the nth time. "Now get yourself dressed in something nicer. Poppy's taking you out to lunch."
"Mum? Mum! What's 'deadist'?" the little girl called out to her mother, who was doing the washing up. If the girl had turned back to see her mother, she would've seen a look of surprise and the slightest hint of desperation not to answer her young daughter's question spread across her face like wildfire.
"It's a dead person racist, dear," she said. Immediately, the mother felt a weight come off her shoulders, and just in time for her fresh blue-eyed young girl to face her with another curious look about her face. Luckily, she didn't ask any more about 'deadism'. She had too much on her mind to think of the dead now.
"Mum, where are you going today? Are you asking Poppy to look after me again? Because I am getting really tired of her."
"She may be tiring, but she's our neighbor. Besides, she looks after you better than I ever will, so make the most out of it, will you?" the mother said in a slightly irritated but at the same time motherly voice. Immediately the young girl hushed herself to avoid any more argument. "Emily, I'm going to see your Uncle Rodney again, okay?"
"Mum, is he your boyfriend?" the girl asked yet again, a suspicious air in her mannerisms as she stared at her mum. She put the dishes down and looked at her little girl with the same intensity, but this time, it was mild annoyance.
"I've told you before, he isn't. He's your uncle," she corrected for the nth time. "Now get yourself dressed in something nicer. Poppy's taking you out to lunch."
OOC Notes
"Yeah, 'course," said Freddy, looking a little offended. "I have been dead for thirty years now. Give me some credit."
He looked at the cigarette in his hand. Its tip had glowed cherry-red for all those years and it never seemed to burn away, remaining the same stubby length forever and always. At least, until he went through the door presumably. He had an idea they might not allow smoking in the afterlife, although that would depend on where exactly he was going...
"For the first couple of months, I could only get a few hundred yards away from this place," he added, opening the front door and stepping out into the watery sunshine. "But now I could go wherever, I suppose."
He'd been to Manchester once after he died. He'd just got on a train and watched the countryside speed by until he stepped out at Piccadilly an hour or so later. But what was the point? Why bother to travel when no one else could see you or speak to you? It was even lonelier than being in a place that you knew where the only decent conversationalist within half a mile was a fifty-three year old steel worker who'd died in an industrial accident and was trying to achieve resolution by dobbing in the health and safety department at his former workplace. Ghosts were around but they were few and far between at the best of times.
"So, what's it like?" said Freddy, once they were out on the street. It was the middle of the day and there was no one about. Only a solitary crisp packet rustling across the pavement and the sound of footsteps (Alice's at least) broke the urban silence. "Y'know, getting your big bad furry on."
Ten minutes later and they were almost at the corner-shop. Taking a short-cut down a quiet backstreet lined with peeling garage doors and wheelie bins round the back of the highstreet, Freddy broke off mid-conversation as someone stepped out in front of them. Please say she wasn't about to get mugged. It wasn't exactly a great first impression, was it? He didn't want his new-found housemate to get scared off less than an hour after they'd met.
"Oh no, this is too much," the stranger was saying. He was a man in his mid-thirties with a London accent. Well-dressed, he might have been on his way to a business meeting. Only something in his walk, something that was not akin to the silent stalking of a tiger going after its prey, told Freddy exactly what he was.
"Shit," he said. This was much worse than a mugger.
"That's right, Casper," said the man, advancing on the pair of them. "Shit indeed. I'm a fan of inter-supernatural relationships, you know, don't worry. In fact, I've got a taste for the bitches myself. Mine do tend to be rather brief, however..."
"Fuck off," said Freddy, desperately picking up a piece of wooden pallet from beside from the wheelie bins and advancing on the man, swinging the bit of wood haphazardly at him. "Fuck off back to wherever the hell you came from-"
With a snarl, the man batted the plank out of Freddy's weakly corporeal grip and it clattered to the floor ineffectually.
"Don't bother, smackhead. You're not as strong as you think you are," he said with a sneer. "Why don't you get back, like a good little ghost, and maybe I'll let you watch."
His gaze shifted to Alice abruptly and, like a blind being pulled down, his eyes turned coal black. He bared his teeth.
He looked at the cigarette in his hand. Its tip had glowed cherry-red for all those years and it never seemed to burn away, remaining the same stubby length forever and always. At least, until he went through the door presumably. He had an idea they might not allow smoking in the afterlife, although that would depend on where exactly he was going...
"For the first couple of months, I could only get a few hundred yards away from this place," he added, opening the front door and stepping out into the watery sunshine. "But now I could go wherever, I suppose."
He'd been to Manchester once after he died. He'd just got on a train and watched the countryside speed by until he stepped out at Piccadilly an hour or so later. But what was the point? Why bother to travel when no one else could see you or speak to you? It was even lonelier than being in a place that you knew where the only decent conversationalist within half a mile was a fifty-three year old steel worker who'd died in an industrial accident and was trying to achieve resolution by dobbing in the health and safety department at his former workplace. Ghosts were around but they were few and far between at the best of times.
"So, what's it like?" said Freddy, once they were out on the street. It was the middle of the day and there was no one about. Only a solitary crisp packet rustling across the pavement and the sound of footsteps (Alice's at least) broke the urban silence. "Y'know, getting your big bad furry on."
Ten minutes later and they were almost at the corner-shop. Taking a short-cut down a quiet backstreet lined with peeling garage doors and wheelie bins round the back of the highstreet, Freddy broke off mid-conversation as someone stepped out in front of them. Please say she wasn't about to get mugged. It wasn't exactly a great first impression, was it? He didn't want his new-found housemate to get scared off less than an hour after they'd met.
"Oh no, this is too much," the stranger was saying. He was a man in his mid-thirties with a London accent. Well-dressed, he might have been on his way to a business meeting. Only something in his walk, something that was not akin to the silent stalking of a tiger going after its prey, told Freddy exactly what he was.
"Shit," he said. This was much worse than a mugger.
"That's right, Casper," said the man, advancing on the pair of them. "Shit indeed. I'm a fan of inter-supernatural relationships, you know, don't worry. In fact, I've got a taste for the bitches myself. Mine do tend to be rather brief, however..."
"Fuck off," said Freddy, desperately picking up a piece of wooden pallet from beside from the wheelie bins and advancing on the man, swinging the bit of wood haphazardly at him. "Fuck off back to wherever the hell you came from-"
With a snarl, the man batted the plank out of Freddy's weakly corporeal grip and it clattered to the floor ineffectually.
"Don't bother, smackhead. You're not as strong as you think you are," he said with a sneer. "Why don't you get back, like a good little ghost, and maybe I'll let you watch."
His gaze shifted to Alice abruptly and, like a blind being pulled down, his eyes turned coal black. He bared his teeth.
OOC Notes
The sun on his exposed hands and face was unnatural to him. It wasn't unusual to feel that way; most others did feel so as well. Teashades were his usual means of getting over the sensitivity, even if they were perched on the bridge of his tall, thin nose. What's more, he looked more like a young art professor than a man who'd suck your blood dry. That was definitely something he'd use to his advantage.
As he walked through the streets of Sheffield, ignoring the usual glances that people shot each other on the street, he went about his usual routine, taking zebra crossings across streets familiar but not too familiar. So much had changed since the last time he'd visited. In fact, it was as if he couldn't remember anything about the place anymore, as if someone had shifted all the pieces and all the feelings he'd felt here. One unmistakable emotion, though, was the guilt of killing here. To him, this place reeked of blood, and most of it was most incriminatingly smeared on him.
It was never unusual for him to feel this. This would happen today, and every other day that followed where he wasn't staked. It was times like these that he wished he could meet the true death.
Strangely enough, someone in the crowd, someone who he knew was familiar, had caught his particular attention. A man in a suit, in an alley full of trash. As he took several more side-steps, he'd noticed that there was one-- no, two -- other people present. Hold on a tick, something wasn't right here, and it sure didn't have anything to do with black market dealings.
He managed to hear several tidbits of their conversation, how he'd called the undeniably young but haggard younger man "Casper". Oh, bollocks, this was another stupid ghost joke again, wasn't it? He tried to sharpen his senses and try and see the other person present. A woman? A helpless young woman? And it appeared that the creep was after her.
"Oi! You with the fancy suit!" he called out to the strange man, hoping to get his attention. Attention he surely got; he turned to him with familiar orbs of black staring right back at him, and he knew that this wasn't just a game. He'd have to outsmart him to get these two out of the way. "What in fuck's name are you doing hunting in the daytime? Coven rules." Now would've been the best time to remember what his name was.
As he walked through the streets of Sheffield, ignoring the usual glances that people shot each other on the street, he went about his usual routine, taking zebra crossings across streets familiar but not too familiar. So much had changed since the last time he'd visited. In fact, it was as if he couldn't remember anything about the place anymore, as if someone had shifted all the pieces and all the feelings he'd felt here. One unmistakable emotion, though, was the guilt of killing here. To him, this place reeked of blood, and most of it was most incriminatingly smeared on him.
It was never unusual for him to feel this. This would happen today, and every other day that followed where he wasn't staked. It was times like these that he wished he could meet the true death.
Strangely enough, someone in the crowd, someone who he knew was familiar, had caught his particular attention. A man in a suit, in an alley full of trash. As he took several more side-steps, he'd noticed that there was one-- no, two -- other people present. Hold on a tick, something wasn't right here, and it sure didn't have anything to do with black market dealings.
He managed to hear several tidbits of their conversation, how he'd called the undeniably young but haggard younger man "Casper". Oh, bollocks, this was another stupid ghost joke again, wasn't it? He tried to sharpen his senses and try and see the other person present. A woman? A helpless young woman? And it appeared that the creep was after her.
"Oi! You with the fancy suit!" he called out to the strange man, hoping to get his attention. Attention he surely got; he turned to him with familiar orbs of black staring right back at him, and he knew that this wasn't just a game. He'd have to outsmart him to get these two out of the way. "What in fuck's name are you doing hunting in the daytime? Coven rules." Now would've been the best time to remember what his name was.
OOC Notes
Alice dug her hands into the pockets of her hideous coat as she walking, examining her feet as Freddy got onto the inevitable question. What it was like going wolfy. It was a little hard to sum it up properly when she thought about it. It sort of defied explanation.
"Well...uh...imagine breaking a bone. It hurts like hell, now imagine that with more of less every bone doing the same thing spontaneously. On top of that you also have to imagine having a heart attack, being unable to breathe, and having all your lower organs trying to bust out of your abdominal wall. Oh, and your face splitting open too. As you can imagine it's fairly....intense." she replied.
"You kinda don't remember a lot after that until the next morning...and you just kinda hope you didn't do anything really horrific during that timeframe. So far I don't think the fleabag has done anythign really terrible...ate a few cats...it loves cats for some reason...just can't get enough of then, I keep waking up with tags and bells stuck in my teeth..."
Alice was about to continue talking about her hairy side's preference for animal life, when the sight of the approaching man made her stop in her tracks. It took her a split second to work out what he was, and probably less than that to realize what a horrible situation this was. Vampires always seemed to turn up at the worst possible times.
"Fuck." she muttered, backing away agaisnt the wall, looking round for some sort of weapon. There wasn't very much. Her hands closed around an old brick...there was no guarantee that that was going to do very much agaisnt one of the children of the night...still she could at least go down fighting the bastard all the way.
She was getting ready to take on mankind's most perfect predator with just a chunk of brick and the protection of a raincoat, when a sudden yell rang out from another figure closeby. Another one? This sidestreet was quickly turning into something resembling one of those ghost train rides at fairgrounds.
Still if nothing else is provided a distraction, and she was going to make the most of it. Alice turned and ran for it, heading in the direction of a more crowded area. For a moment she was feeling a little guilty for leaving Freddy behind..before mentally slapping herself. He was a ghost! What did he have to worry about...she was the one that still had a functioning jugular.
"Well...uh...imagine breaking a bone. It hurts like hell, now imagine that with more of less every bone doing the same thing spontaneously. On top of that you also have to imagine having a heart attack, being unable to breathe, and having all your lower organs trying to bust out of your abdominal wall. Oh, and your face splitting open too. As you can imagine it's fairly....intense." she replied.
"You kinda don't remember a lot after that until the next morning...and you just kinda hope you didn't do anything really horrific during that timeframe. So far I don't think the fleabag has done anythign really terrible...ate a few cats...it loves cats for some reason...just can't get enough of then, I keep waking up with tags and bells stuck in my teeth..."
Alice was about to continue talking about her hairy side's preference for animal life, when the sight of the approaching man made her stop in her tracks. It took her a split second to work out what he was, and probably less than that to realize what a horrible situation this was. Vampires always seemed to turn up at the worst possible times.
"Fuck." she muttered, backing away agaisnt the wall, looking round for some sort of weapon. There wasn't very much. Her hands closed around an old brick...there was no guarantee that that was going to do very much agaisnt one of the children of the night...still she could at least go down fighting the bastard all the way.
She was getting ready to take on mankind's most perfect predator with just a chunk of brick and the protection of a raincoat, when a sudden yell rang out from another figure closeby. Another one? This sidestreet was quickly turning into something resembling one of those ghost train rides at fairgrounds.
Still if nothing else is provided a distraction, and she was going to make the most of it. Alice turned and ran for it, heading in the direction of a more crowded area. For a moment she was feeling a little guilty for leaving Freddy behind..before mentally slapping herself. He was a ghost! What did he have to worry about...she was the one that still had a functioning jugular.
OOC Notes
The man in the suit paused at the sound of another voice. In the fraction of a second that he'd waited, the werewolf had turned tail (he'd have to remember that one for the future) and ran. He watched her go wistfully.
"Oh, now look at that. My snack's made a run for it..." he said, turning around to face the vampire who'd interrupted him. Freddy, who'd been about to disappear in pursuit of Alice, held off for a moment to see exactly how this would play out. He tried to stay out of the way of vampires, not because they could hurt him, of course, but because they tended to be thoroughly unpleasant people (which was saying something, given the kind of company Freddy himself used to keep). Except now that Alice was here, he had a little more to worry about where vampires were concerned. If there was some kind of vampire war that was about to erupt, he decided with an element of proud responsibility (or at least, it would have been, if he wasn't still terrified), it was now his business to know about it.
The vampire in the suit continued to speak. "Rules are all very well if you're in a coven," he said. "I've always found it odd how most of us huddle together in the darkness. As if we weren't at the top of the food chain! Well, now it's time to wake up and smell the type O negative... My name is Caleb. I'd remember it if I were you."
He smiled and turned to go.
"Bye bye, Casper," he added to Freddy. "Say hi to your little doggy for me." With his hands in his pockets, he disappeared down one of the side alleys that led to the main street outside. There, Freddy knew, he'd blend in as one of many bankers or office workers and he'd dissolve away into the city as if nothing had ever happened.
Realising that he had been left alone with the second vampire, he grinned an uneasy grin.
"Thanks," he said, with forced brightness. He automatically put his hand to his mouth and a cigarette, half-smoked and still alight, appeared between his lips. "For that. I'm sure my housemate appreciates it. Anyway, got to go now! Things to do, people to er- haunt, that kind of thing. Cheerio!"
"Oh, now look at that. My snack's made a run for it..." he said, turning around to face the vampire who'd interrupted him. Freddy, who'd been about to disappear in pursuit of Alice, held off for a moment to see exactly how this would play out. He tried to stay out of the way of vampires, not because they could hurt him, of course, but because they tended to be thoroughly unpleasant people (which was saying something, given the kind of company Freddy himself used to keep). Except now that Alice was here, he had a little more to worry about where vampires were concerned. If there was some kind of vampire war that was about to erupt, he decided with an element of proud responsibility (or at least, it would have been, if he wasn't still terrified), it was now his business to know about it.
The vampire in the suit continued to speak. "Rules are all very well if you're in a coven," he said. "I've always found it odd how most of us huddle together in the darkness. As if we weren't at the top of the food chain! Well, now it's time to wake up and smell the type O negative... My name is Caleb. I'd remember it if I were you."
He smiled and turned to go.
"Bye bye, Casper," he added to Freddy. "Say hi to your little doggy for me." With his hands in his pockets, he disappeared down one of the side alleys that led to the main street outside. There, Freddy knew, he'd blend in as one of many bankers or office workers and he'd dissolve away into the city as if nothing had ever happened.
Realising that he had been left alone with the second vampire, he grinned an uneasy grin.
"Thanks," he said, with forced brightness. He automatically put his hand to his mouth and a cigarette, half-smoked and still alight, appeared between his lips. "For that. I'm sure my housemate appreciates it. Anyway, got to go now! Things to do, people to er- haunt, that kind of thing. Cheerio!"
OOC Notes
And he thought he was sick. Following the little confrontation, he felt something he hadn't felt since accidentally killing that bum three weeks ago -- disgust. Complete and utter disgust at the notion of them being "on top of the food chain". In fact, they were no different than any of those lions, tigers, bears... Vampires were conscious animals with a taste for blood. What made them any different than those in the other parts of the food chain? He recovered quickly enough to watch the nervous reaction of the young ghost in front of him; a sight risible enough to lighten up his usually ominous aura.
"Type O negative. I could have some o' that," he mused to himself as the other vampire had integrated himself in the bustling crowd. And his chance to sound all nice and friendly just flew out the window. Bollocks. Practically sent the lad on his toes.
Scaring off the scary thing? The thought seemed even more risible than the earlier thought. Sounded like a nice little joke to tell some stranger in a pub.
But vampires weren't supposed to be funny. Nor were they supposed to reveal their nature. They were supposed to "huddle in the darkness". They were supposed to rip your throat out and suck all the red stuff out. They were supposed to charm you and trick you into becoming their personal bloodbags. They were supposed to be those people in the movies wearing black leather clothes, looking like a group of S&M knobs. Couldn't anyone think of anything positive about vampires and not "Oh no, don't kill me, I'm begging you"?
He did none of that. He would give his seat to some old woman on the bus. He would politely open the door for you and go in after you. He would restrain his own thirst for blood. He even developed a slight liking for human food, especially a strange brown paste everyone else called "Marmite".
"Oi, now wait just one easy minute," he called out to the stranger, giving chase in a most leisurely pace. "If that Caleb, whatever he's called, finds your friend in the crowd, she's lunch. Or elevenses. A nice afternoon snack? Sorry."
"Hold on, you're afraid, aren't you? Hey, I won't hurt you! Not anymore, that is."
He held his hand to his mouth in surprise at what he'd just said, and gave chase again.
"Shite. Sorry, mate. My other mates warned me about my horrid sense of humour. I'm Rodney. And you are?"
"Type O negative. I could have some o' that," he mused to himself as the other vampire had integrated himself in the bustling crowd. And his chance to sound all nice and friendly just flew out the window. Bollocks. Practically sent the lad on his toes.
Scaring off the scary thing? The thought seemed even more risible than the earlier thought. Sounded like a nice little joke to tell some stranger in a pub.
But vampires weren't supposed to be funny. Nor were they supposed to reveal their nature. They were supposed to "huddle in the darkness". They were supposed to rip your throat out and suck all the red stuff out. They were supposed to charm you and trick you into becoming their personal bloodbags. They were supposed to be those people in the movies wearing black leather clothes, looking like a group of S&M knobs. Couldn't anyone think of anything positive about vampires and not "Oh no, don't kill me, I'm begging you"?
He did none of that. He would give his seat to some old woman on the bus. He would politely open the door for you and go in after you. He would restrain his own thirst for blood. He even developed a slight liking for human food, especially a strange brown paste everyone else called "Marmite".
"Oi, now wait just one easy minute," he called out to the stranger, giving chase in a most leisurely pace. "If that Caleb, whatever he's called, finds your friend in the crowd, she's lunch. Or elevenses. A nice afternoon snack? Sorry."
"Hold on, you're afraid, aren't you? Hey, I won't hurt you! Not anymore, that is."
He held his hand to his mouth in surprise at what he'd just said, and gave chase again.
"Shite. Sorry, mate. My other mates warned me about my horrid sense of humour. I'm Rodney. And you are?"
OOC Notes
(x_x Argh. Distractions.)
Alice hurried along the street, trying to get into the most open area possible, one where she could kick up enough fuss to put something like that off. Her shoes slid on the pavement as she continued at a sprint....coat billowing out behind her as she rushed along.
Eventually she happened to come across a small square and dashed into an open space in the middle, somewhere very much miserable to the various shoppers and office workers sat eating thier sandwiches on low walls closeby. There she stopped and leaned forwards, trying to catch her breath, her hands resting above her knees. She thought that her werewolf's running around the woods at night would have made her a bit mare athletic...but apparently it didn't rub off onto the human form, as she felt like her lungs were about to explode.
Slowly she lifted her head, watching for any sign of the man...well, the thing. Vampires in general were sticklers for secrecy...so hopefully this had been enough to put him off. If not she was fresh out of ideas that did not involve screaming and attempting to kick him in the nuts. That was more of less the extent of Plan B.
Alice hurried along the street, trying to get into the most open area possible, one where she could kick up enough fuss to put something like that off. Her shoes slid on the pavement as she continued at a sprint....coat billowing out behind her as she rushed along.
Eventually she happened to come across a small square and dashed into an open space in the middle, somewhere very much miserable to the various shoppers and office workers sat eating thier sandwiches on low walls closeby. There she stopped and leaned forwards, trying to catch her breath, her hands resting above her knees. She thought that her werewolf's running around the woods at night would have made her a bit mare athletic...but apparently it didn't rub off onto the human form, as she felt like her lungs were about to explode.
Slowly she lifted her head, watching for any sign of the man...well, the thing. Vampires in general were sticklers for secrecy...so hopefully this had been enough to put him off. If not she was fresh out of ideas that did not involve screaming and attempting to kick him in the nuts. That was more of less the extent of Plan B.
- 16 posts here • Page 1 of 1
Life, or something like it: Out Of Character (OOC)
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Life, or something like it
1, 2, 3by NorthernSoul on Sat May 14, 2011 1:26 pm
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- Last post by wednesdaysun
on Sun Sep 11, 2011 4:17 am
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Life, or something like it
Most recent OOC posts in Life, or something like it
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
I'd be mighty interested to restart this myself... Well, if you don't mind, that is. :)
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
No, you're not! You don't have to rush. :) Just checking, really. I love having a Being Human RP around and it'd be a shame if it died all of a sudden.
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
Thanks Wednesday... Sorry guys- for all my impatience, I've actually been horrendously busy over the past week. I'll get a nice juicy post up in the next 24 hours.
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
Posted a little filler to get this going... If this is still going. :)
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
Sorry, been moving out of Uni accomodation so I'm been a little distracted. Putting up a post as we speak.
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
Sorry to be a pain, VH, but do you have an ETA on the next post? I'd like to bring Wednesday in soon!
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
Posted! I think we can bring your character in fairly soon, Wednesday, once Freddy and Alice nip out to the shop.
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
Okay, there has been a LOT of stuff keeping me from making progress on the profile; the laptop crashing, me getting Terraria yesterday (yes, I AM a real gamer) and a good dose of procrastination (wait, how is that GOOD?!).
The point is that come hell or high water, I'll get the thing done. Eventually.
Better late than never, right? =)
The point is that come hell or high water, I'll get the thing done. Eventually.
Better late than never, right? =)
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
No worries, real life gets in the way occasionally! I look forward to your post (and your charrie, Gamer).
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
Sorry it's been a whilew since I posted, been flat out with Uni work for days.
Recrntly submitted it so going to start formulating a decent post for you all now.
Recrntly submitted it so going to start formulating a decent post for you all now.
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
Laptop's fixed now. Now I'm gonna try to make sense out of how it's configured itself....
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
Bad news; the laptop I normally use got a virus and it had to be restored to factory settings. In a nutshell, all that work I did on the character profile is gone. Don't worry, it'll be fixed up in a day or two and I'll be able to start from scratch. Hopefully.
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
Sounds good to me! Or when they do nip over to the corner shop, we could bring in the old idea about being accosted (or not really, maybe just being tormented by a bunch of vampires who look like gang rapists or something like that), he'd probably tell Alice and Freddy to get back home where it's safer. And maybe he'd follow to keep an eye out and then maybe there, they could propose the sublet.
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
She sounds great! I'll get my werewolf character up in a day or two. Meanwhile, I was thinking that, to get you involved a bit quicker. Once VH and I wrap up this little scene, we can fast forward a week or so to when Alice moves in. We can have her and Freddy, I dunno, nipping to the corner shop or something, during which they're spotted by Rodney who speedily proposes a sublet. Thoughts?
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
I'll admit to procrastination over the last couple of days. Gonna carry on from where I left off on making that profile now.
Re: [OOC] Life, or something like it
I think she'd be more of an 'office girl'. I guess, since the three wouldn't probably like any attention drawn to their house, assuming they've met and all, she'd be a (not so) trusted link to the 'mortalverse' (RPG has really begun to rub off on me). Perhaps since she runs a blood bank, she could supply most of the vamps with blood bags to stave off hunger. But not without a price, of course. Since she's Rodney's seven times great granddaughter (he knows where the rest are, he's just waiting for them to find him out), he feels a sort of granddad-like responsibility to her. She sort of avoids lycos because she's had a run-in with them, on a full moon no less, when she was younger, so she'll probably have her reservations toward Alice for a while.
I'm thinking she could get into some sort of trouble... Not exactly sure what. I'm thinking of something, though.
I'm thinking she could get into some sort of trouble... Not exactly sure what. I'm thinking of something, though.
