Announcements: Cutting Costs (2024) » January 2024 Copyfraud Attack » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Member Shoutout Thread » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newcomers » RPG Chat — the official app » Frequently Asked Questions » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Adapa Adapa's for adapa » To the Rich Men North of Richmond » Shake Senora » Good Morning RPG! » Ramblings of a Madman: American History Unkempt » Site Revitalization » Map Making Resources » Lost Poetry » Wishes » Ring of Invisibility » Seeking Roleplayer for Rumple/Mr. Gold from Once Upon a Time » Some political parody for these trying times » What dinosaur are you? » So, I have an Etsy » Train Poetry I » Joker » D&D Alignment Chart: How To Get A Theorem Named After You » Dungeon23 : Creative Challenge » Returning User - Is it dead? » Twelve Days of Christmas »

Players Wanted: Serious Anime Crossover Roleplay (semi-literate) » Looking for a long term partner! » JoJo or Mha roleplay » Seeking long-term rp partners for MxM » [MxF] Ruining Beauty / Beauty x Bastard » Minecraft Rp Help Wanted » CALL FOR WITNESSES: The Public v Zosimos » Social Immortal: A Vampire Only Soiree [The Multiverse] » XENOMORPH EDM TOUR Feat. Synthe Gridd: Get Your Tickets! » Aishna: Tower of Desire » Looking for fellow RPGers/Characters » looking for a RP partner (ABO/BL) » Looking for a long term roleplay partner » Explore the World of Boruto with Our Roleplaying Group on FB » More Jedi, Sith, and Imperials needed! » Role-player's Wanted » OSR Armchair Warrior looking for Kin » Friday the 13th Fun, Anyone? » Writers Wanted! » Long term partner to play an older male wanted »

0
followers
follow

Freddy Bishop

"'After-life' implies I had a life to begin with..."

0 · 297 views · located in The Dungeon

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by NorthernSoul

Description

Image
Name: Frederick (Freddy) Michael Bishop
Age: 28, has been since the 14th October 1981
Species: Ghost

It is the peculiar affliction of the ghost to forever wear the same outfit. Pity then, the ghost that died in the eighties. The early eighties, Freddy is often quick to point out, none of this Wham! shit with floppy blonde hair, white denim and neon leg-warmers was about then. No, it was all depressed young men in black leather trousers, trenchcoats and winklepickers. Which, incidentally, was exactly what he'd been wearing the night he'd died. Not that that was a story that needed to be told. Some of the few ghosts he has met have died fantastic deaths: whilst skydiving, murdered in jealous love-triangles, one had even been trapped under one of the giant steel rollers in one of the old factories on the edge of town. No, Freddy had died as he had lived; with a needle in his arm. Which was odd, because he'd been fairly good at getting the dose right up until then...

Still, never mind. It wasn't as if he needed to do that any more; say what you like about death, it worked better than narcotics anonymous for getting over heroin addiction. He'd been a little grouchier than normal for the first few days and he'd taken great pleasure in freaking out the coppers who'd cleared out the squat he'd been living in by flashing the lights on and off and chucking around a few mugs of tea. But the shakes and the headaches and the retching hadn't come (which made sense, what with the lack of body and all) and he'd got on things after that. Even if he'd learnt how to pick things up with control back in those early days, it wasn't as if he had a vein to inject into...

As it happened, he'd spent the next year or so wandering the streets around that squat in Sheffield, wondering why it had to be him. Why had he been the one to have 'unfinished business' or whatever the hell he was still here for? In life, he'd barely kept it together enough to maintain the vague social circle of addicts, misfits and New Wave fanatics. He had no other friends, hardly any family (the less said about those who did exist, the better) and hadn't planned to achieve anything ground-breaking any time soon. So what was he supposed to do?

Over time, however, he got stronger. He wasn't tied so tightly to the house he'd died in and could venture further into the city without that odd pang beneath his ribs drawing him back again. He could even pick things up now; steal old paperbacks from the local library at night and read them back at the house. It wasn't until eighteen months after he'd died that he'd met another ghost. Admittedly that ghost had been a nine year old boy (he'd kicked his football onto the railway tracks, the rest was high-speed history) and a rabid Sheffield Wednesday supporter but it was still company. Kick-abouts in the park were suddenly the highlight of Freddy's year. The kid had passed on a couple of months later; something about needing to make sure his little brother was alright without him, but it gave Freddy hope. There were other ghosts. And not only that, there were vampires and werewolves too! The former tended to be thoroughly unpleasant (with a notable exception) with an tendency to seek out the kinds of people who wouldn't be missed if they were to, well, go missing. Freddy had been that kind of person once. The latter were more of a rarity and when they did see him, they tended to ignore him, too busy struggling to carry on with their normal lives to have time for a ghost.

It all changed in 1993. The area around Windsor road was beginning to become fashionable and suddenly the terraced house that had been Freddy's squat was suddenly in demand. The peeling blue paint was stripped and repainted, the mouldy carpets were peeled back and binned and the floorboards underneath were polished. Estate agents were actually showing families round! This needed to stop. Freddy had grown fond of the floral seventies wallpaper and rusting formica kitchen, he didn't want the place gutted and filled with yuppy loot. Most of all, he didn't want to be ignored in the place he now thought of as his home.

And so, he did his best to haunt the hell out of the place. You name the horror film, he did it. Blood (well, tomato ketchup) on the walls, lightbulbs smashing, anything vaguely religious stuffed down the toilet. He even took to going to following people around Blockbuster on the off-chance they might rent something he hadn't seen before in order to get a few tips. As a result, no one stayed their longer than a couple of months. The seventies wallpaper stayed and Freddy was left in peace. That was until he gained a few housemates who were exactly the kind he'd been looking for...

So begins...

Freddy Bishop's Story