In The Flesh

FantasyWreck · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FantasyWreck** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 8:19 am

Roarton, 2015.

The redeemed rose five years ago. The Roarton risers are famous - they rose first. Where do you stand? Are you with the ULA? Are you one of the redeemed? Wandering the world alone? Perhaps you can find solidarity here...

This town is not renowned for its welcome atmosphere. If you're a PDS sufferer, you're unlikely to be met with much kindness. However, this small village has one redeeming feature - the Roarton risers were the first to rise from their graves. This has made the town a point of interest for both the ULA and the Victus party alike. Be careful here.

[[In The Flesh OC RP]]

[[Please post information about your character, e.g. name, appearance and any other relevant information in your first post. Having a faceclaim helps with this, but don't get too caught up on this if you can't find someone to fit. By all means feels free to play as a character in the show - just make sure you can keep it up!]]

Current characters:

FantasyWreck - {{Alice Spiteri - 18 - FC: Andreja Pejic - PDS Sufferer}} - FantasyWreck

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FantasyWreck - {{Mackenzie (Kenzie) Weller - 22 - FC: Aiden Turner - PDS sufferer}} - FantasyWreck

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melancholylouis - {{Emily Knight - 17 - FC: Chloe Grace Moretz - PDS Sufferer}} - melancholylouis

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LilyenRenn - {{Cassandra Hope - 23 - Zawe Ashton - PDS sufferer}} - LilyenRenn

FantasyWreck · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FantasyWreck** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 8:51 am

It's a cold day, but Alice can't feel it at all. Though the hilltops are flecked with drifts of rapidly melting snow, she's just wearing a jumper. Her coat is slung over her arm. She's been walking since about four in the morning. And she can't feel a damn thing. In all honesty, she's been trying to get some feeling back into her legs. They should be cramping. She should be in horrendous pain. The last time she took her boots off, her feet were rife with blisters. And, still, she can't feeling anything.

Tramping through damp fields and climbing over stiles, her head is filled with only one thing. There was one person she had to find. And give him a piece of her mind. But she has no idea where she's actually heading. The last time she followed a sign was a very vague, wooden thing pointing to 'Roarton'. She'd heard there were people there like her. Angry people. Perhaps this place would be a good start...

She takes a moment to perch on a fence, letting her bag drop down on the dewy grass. It's been a long time since she put her contacts in, and although she feels that she should make an effort, she really couldn't care less. From what she'd heard, the people like her who lived here didn't care about that...

[OOC - you don't have to post things this long, I'm just doing this for scene setting and such ^_^]

melancholylouis · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **melancholylouis** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 10:33 am

Emily has had almost five years to adjust to the realities of forever, but most days, it's still a struggle. Forever in the body of a 17 year old girl is a lot to take in, but forever in the body of a 17 year old girl being slowly suffocated by her parents? It's probing to be a bitter pill to swallow.

But she plays along, for the most part.

She wakes up at eight, leaves at nine and spends her days traipsing fields and moors and caves, creating stories of lessons and friends and the tales of high school drama her parents expect of her. She's home at four and sits down to dinner at six. Cuts everything up small and chews, chews, chews to spit it all back out again when nobody's looking her way. She pretends she doesn't listen in on her parent's whispered conversations about how she's one of the lucky ones, that she's getting better. She 'eats' her dinner and fetches drinks that she ends up pouring out of her bedroom window and acts like hallelujah, she's cured, and her parents dote on her.

'She's in remission!' they tell the neighbours, as if what's wrong and unnatural about her can be wrapped up and made palatable again, but they swallow it down anyway. There's been talk to 'rebirth' in the village, of waking up again, warm and whole and she wants it and her parents want it and so she told them she was getting better but she regrets it now.

Forever was easier when she wasn't pretending to be something she's not.

FantasyWreck · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FantasyWreck** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 10:52 am

She takes a deep, unnecessary breath, tipping her head back and drinking in the air that should have felt cold in her throat. When she opens her eyes she jumps slightly. A dark haired girl is picking her way through the fields a little way ahead. Alice jumps down, scrabbling for her bag in the undergrowth. She curses under her breath, swearing as she slings it over he shoulder. She'd never been much of a swearer before she'd died.

She hurries over to the girl, running a hair through her tangled hair. She hadn't had a chance to wash it for several days. She's not entirely aware of how potentially unnerving she looks, with her blank white eyes on show as well. On top of that, she's been little starved of company for a while. When she's not too far away, she calls out:
"Can you direct me to Roarton? Hi. Sorry. Um. Do you know which way I have to go?"
Her speech comes out garbled and more than a little rushed.

melancholylouis · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **melancholylouis** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 11:55 am

The voice shocks her from her silly musings and she spins quickly on her heel and almost falls into the mud, which isn't really ideal considering she's not supposed to be out here.

The girl is pale, too pale. She'd be transparent against the winter sky if not for her dark clothes and her mottled skin, scarred with the grey hues of death. She's not from around here, Emily can tell. She wears her death brazenly, seemingly without fear of the HVF. There's a couple of the sort in the village, but they usually come with religion and righteous fury bestowed within their presence and this girl doesn't seem to have that either.

She's a curious sort and, well, Emily grew up in a tiny village in the middle of nowhere. She really wants to know her story. Why she's here and what she wants and if she's going to cause trouble. Roarton seems to attract trouble from all directions. Speaking of directions...

"You missed the road. About a mile or so back. Or you could go that way." She gestures across the field to the woods that loom out across the horizon behind her, the canopy hiding the weak rays of sun from the caves and the fence and the stray untreated within.

"I could show you, if you like?"

FantasyWreck · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FantasyWreck** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 12:01 pm

She nods, glancing at the ground. She'd forgotten about her eyes, but the girl's reaction suddenly reminds her. She glances up briefly before breaking eye contact again.
"I'd like that. I'm terrible at directions."
She looks up and smiles, then remembers herself and looks away.
"Sorry. About--"
She gestures to her face, shaking her head.
"--I forget."

She glances over her shoulder, shrugging her bag off and onto the other side. It's not that she's uncomfortable, more that she feels she ought to at least fake that she was human.
"I've heard about Roarton. Is it true there's people like me there?"
She hasn't yet clocked that the girl is a PDS sufferer too.

LilyenRenn · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LilyenRenn** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 12:04 pm

It’s been a long walk with no money for cabs, trains or buses, but that’s what you get when you piss off your dad enough for him to cut you off from the family savings account. Not that it was her fault- she didn’t ask to be stabbed twice, buried and then dragged once again back to the land of the living as a cannibalistic corpse. But apparently that sort of thing qualifies as a ‘poor life choice’ in Jonathan Hope’s book, and one he can’t in all good conscience support.

All told, it’s been a pretty rubbish start to her second life. That damn mugger left her with a nice deep shoulder wound, leaving her right arm all but unusable. Now on top of training her clumsy left hand to pick up the slack she also has to factor in poverty, homelessness and the never-ending battle that is trying to find cover-up mousse to match her tricky skin tone. It’s either too light, too dark or too orange. So basically same problem she had in life only multiplied tenfold because she looks literally dead without it.

Her feet are sore. She can’t even feel her feet and she knows they’re sore- that’s a whole new level of sore. All this walking in the name of pure curiosity. But then again, what else would she be doing with her time?

She’s not too sure about this whole ULA business- never the most religious person, she can’t help finding the endless supply of Bible quotes and ominous-sounding ‘prophecies’ unsettling- but everyone’s heard of Roarton. Supposedly it’s where the first ‘Redeemed’ rose from their graves, where the whole thing began, and maybe it holds the answers. Probably just another dead end in the sea of dead ends that is her second life, but… well, it’s as good a place to start as any, right?

melancholylouis · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **melancholylouis** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 12:36 pm

She's probably offended the girl already which wasn't really her intention, she was just surprised, is all and now everything is awkward.

"It's okay. I'm-"

She's never had to tell anyone before. Hell, they knew Emily was a rotter before she did. She didn't even remember dying. It's harder to vocalize it than she thought it would be, but she'd never been one for the declarations the doctors always insisted she tell herself.

"I'm Emily. And, er, well, there's lots in Roarton, I guess. Lots of you, or us, I guess." She gives an awkward wave following her introduction. "Hi."

FantasyWreck · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FantasyWreck** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 12:44 pm

"U--us?"
Her confusion gives way to a broad smile.
"Sorry. I didn't realise."
She grins broadly. Turns out she could look normal if she really tried.
"I'm Alice. Not from round here."
She shakes her head, looking away. She didn't like talking about where she was from. Her death? That was a different matter. she was incredibly passionate about that.

"So... how did you... you know..."
She glances across at Emily, tilting her head. Her eyes are blank, as ever, but she's clearly not forcing Emily to answer if she doesn't want to. Speaking even just a few words to someone has brought her back to what is more reminiscent of her 'usual' self. I.e. how she'd been before she died.

FantasyWreck · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FantasyWreck** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 1:00 pm

{{Mackenzie (Kenzie) Weller - 22 - FC: Aiden Turner - PDS sufferer}}

His contacts are bugging him again. They didn't hurt so much, but they kept sliding about and blurring his vision. He blinks a few times, trying to correct it. No chance. He gives up, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag as he leans against the mossy brick wall of that old 'abandoned house'. Everyone knew what it was now. Still, it made a good place to go to be alone. Nobody went there now. Not without some sort of mask on.

He peers up, at the lilac-grey clouds that masked the morning haze. It was probably cold. Not that he'd know much about that. The other day he'd accidentally spent about five minutes with his hand on a lighted gas ring. The result wasn't pretty, and as a result his hand was bandaged to the point of it just being a sort of flipper. But still. The ULA were certainly good for things like that...

melancholylouis · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **melancholylouis** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 1:01 pm

Emily smiles at Alice.
"Pleasure. Do you want to-" she gestures to the woods behind her, to Roarton, and turns herself to begin the trek. She's never been particularly comfortable with the way she died. It feels stupid and mortifying and somewhat childish. It's not really a conversation she wants to have whilst looking someone in the eye.
"There was a party, of sorts? I'm really fuzzy on most of the details but..." she trails off as she uses her hands to scrabble up the hill, glances behind her to make sure Alice is still following and if she's even interested in Emily's story or just making small talk. She looks engaged enough, is able to keep up with Emily who is used to the rough terrain of rocks and farmland and sticky mud underfoot.
"Well, alcohol was consumed and then... I guess there was a car? I bled out, never had a chance really. You?"

FantasyWreck · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FantasyWreck** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 1:07 pm

She clambers up, not afraid of getting dirt in her nails. She's dead, after all. She smiles kindly at Emily.
"I'm sorry. Sounds nasty..."
She pauses for a moment before talking again.
"I, um... I was killed by the man I was going to marry."
She chuckles, and it's not a nice sound.
"He strangled me--"
She turns to Emily and gestures a pair of apostrophes in the air.
"Accidentally."
She rolls her eyes.
"But that's men for you, eh?"

She's pretty sure the bloke doesn't even know she's come back. More fool him. One day she'd find him. And scare the hell out of him. It's all he deserves...

melancholylouis · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **melancholylouis** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 1:22 pm

Emily raises an eyebrow.
"Men are disgusting, but your story is very... dramatic. I wouldn't tell anyone in Roarton. They'd never stop gossiping and you'd offend their delicate sensibilities. They'd probably explode."
She propels herself up the last of the hill and uses the tree roots themselves to pull herself up and over the slight rocky overhang. Her hands are filthy and desperately need a good scrubbing and she's chipped a nail as well, which is irritating. The rest of it will snap before the week's end and nails don't grow back. She offers a hand to Emily anyway, should she need it, but really she just wants answers.
Such as, "how on Earth did your beau get away with calling it an accident?"
You can't really blame her. That sort of information might come in handy if she ever gets in trouble with the HVF.

LilyenRenn · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LilyenRenn** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 1:24 pm

A field. Another field. More fields. What does one place need so many f***ing fields for, anyway?

But after a while the field is broken by a road. Roads have cars, cars go places, roads and cars generally lead to civilisation. It’s a start. And it’s a damn sight better than more fields. She’s seen enough fields to last a lifetime. Or two.

She walks alongside the road a while- ‘a while’, in this case, being any amount of time between five minutes and two hours. She pretty much just zones out for it, she’s good at doing that. Probably the reason she’s in this mess in the first place- maybe she wouldn’t have been quite so easy to stab if she’d been paying a little more attention. Will she never learn?

Once again, zoning out proves to be her worst enemy as a grubby jeeps roars past, grazing her with the wing mirror and knocking her aside into the mud. She barely has time to yell an imaginative range of expletives (and as a former English language student, she has many) before the bastard’s roaring off ahead of her. Yeah, don’t check if she’s dead or anything. Dick.

Still, the impact did do the trick of jolting her back into reality. She realises the ground isn’t as muddy as it should be, and that’s because it’s not just ground anymore. It’s a pavement. The fields have given way to grey streets, matching the grey sky and the grey walls and holy f*** is this place grey. Could this place actually be…?

“Hey, are you all right?”

She looks up to the voice, laughing humourlessly at the tall man and his worried face. “That depends… exactly how do you define ‘all right’?”

FantasyWreck · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FantasyWreck** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 1:27 pm

She scrambles up, pulling herself upright with Emily's help. She pulls her bag more securely onto her shoulder before answering.
"Well. My mom told me he said it was when we were..."
She makes a suggestive face.
"You know. Some people are into that. But that's bullshit. I'd been talking to the stableboy. And he thought we were getting too close. So he grabbed me by the throat and squeezed and--"
She shakes her head
"I don't remember anything after that. Just that he hadn't so much as laid a finger on me before..."
She sighs, biting her lip.
"At least I'm sort of alive now. I wasn't all that keen on spending my twenties in a coffin. This is much better."
She tilts her head back, closing her eyes and smiling gently.

FantasyWreck · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FantasyWreck** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 1:33 pm

{{Mackenzie (Kenzie) Weller - 22 - FC: Aiden Turner - PDS sufferer}}

He blearily returns to reality as he sees a girl walk past on the street beside him. In the middle of the road. He squints, and then it's too late. A truck rushes past, sending her, swearing, to the ground.
"Hey, you alright?"
He calls out, rushing over to her. Bastard hadn't even stopped.

"That depends… exactly how do you define ‘all right’?"
He makes a face.
"Well, I mean, you're not dead or anything, are you?"
He's picked up that she's like him. He grins at his own attempt at a joke, holding his hand out to help her up.
"Are you any more dead than you were before?"

melancholylouis · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **melancholylouis** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 1:47 pm

Emily leads Alice along the line of the fence until they come to a break in the metal that has been pulled back to reveal a thin gap, just big enough to shimmy through. "And you win with the whole 'not alive-can't age' thing, yeah?"
Emily follows the path laid out in the woods by hundreds of others, a winding trail through the trees that's long since lost the ability to grow anything, pressed down hard and cold by footfall and life. The snow is thicker here, not melting properly out of direct sunlight, turning slushy and icy. "Careful of tree roots, yeah?" she warns, keeping her wits about her as she listens for signs of any movement that isn't her or Alice.
"Did your mum say anything? When you came back and all, because it sounds mortifying."

FantasyWreck · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FantasyWreck** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 1:58 pm

She grins at Emily's comment of her not ageing. It was true. She stayed beautiful forever. Her version of beautiful, at any rate.
"Yeah, well..."
She shakes her head.
"It's a bit weird. Once I'd gone she got back together with my dad. He was all she had left, really. Him and I didntt get along much, so..."

She shrugs, glancing at the tall trees around them and then down at the crisp white snow.
"I never did go back. But I called her. From the treatment centre. I think she was more shocked than anything..."
She shakes her head, brushing a strand of lank hair back into place.
"I don't mind much. It's quite nice being on your own..."
It wasn't, really. But Emily didn't need to know that.

LilyenRenn · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **LilyenRenn** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 2:01 pm

"Are you any more dead than you were before?"

She glares at him, but begrudgingly takes his hand anyway. "Ha, bloody, ha. Very funny, Eric Morcambe. Got any more where that came from?"

He frowns at her in that way that many do when faced with her unrelenting sarcasm. She sighs, dusting herself off and smiling apologetically. He's the only person who's bothered to check on her since she set out on this damn journey, she should probably be a little nicer to him. "I'm fine, thank you. Kind of feel like chucking eggs at that jeep, but I'm intact. Well," she gestures to her useless right arm, draped in its sling. "No less intact, anyway."

He nods, glancing angrily in the direction the jeep had sped off. "Think I recognise that car. See that wanker Gary Kendal driving it all the time," he looks her up and down, and she feels like she should be self-conscious. Her hair probably looks like a bird's nest, her boots and jeans caked with mud. She probably looks like... well, like she's crawled from a grave. But he smiles mischievously. It's kind of irritating, yet contagious.

"I know where he parks it at night," he continues. "Nice little curb, very vulnerable to organic projectiles. Fancy it?"

She stares a moment, sizing him up. After how her first life ended she knows better than to trust strangers. But maybe she'll allow it, just this once.

Her face brightens, her grin returns. "I like you."

FantasyWreck · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FantasyWreck** on Sat Jan 17, 2015 2:09 pm

{{Mackenzie (Kenzie) Weller - 22 - FC:Aiden Turner - PDS sufferer}}

He grins back.
"Many people do. I'm a likeable man."
He brushes his unwashed hair out of his face with his bad hand, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye again. She'd obviously been living rough for a while. Most people in this godforsaken town tended to be fairly well-groomed.

"Where you from, then?"
He takes a drag of his cigarette, leaning his shoulder against a street sign. He tilts his head as he waits for her answer, just wondering. He was sure the other redeemed would take a shine to this girl. She was just what they were looking for.

In The Flesh

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In The Flesh

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