The Whisperer, from The Multiverse, a roleplay on RPG

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#2011-06-14 16:13:14, as written by Patcharoo

The figure rose slowly, like a spider, back sliding up the door, bottom lip trembling. "Like all good gods He tends to His flock," voice akin to how he first spoke, fear definitely having returned, "But sometimes there are those who must be c-c-culled." His arms almost gracefully rose to either side as he pressed his hands against the walls. It was almost as if he hoped to act as a barrier, keeping the door shut. "But not all of the flock are b-ble-eivers," he says, final word pronounced like a bleating sheep.

Outside the figure approached the door, black in form and slick, hopefully from the rain, but judging by who was the point of the discussion, not likely.

Setting

Wing City

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#2011-06-14 16:28:37, as written by Patcharoo

The figure took one finger and planted it to their skull, twisting their hand as if it was a drill, boring into their temple. "It stops him from getting inssiide. He already got me," they squeaked, "But he need not get you."

There was a sudden rapping on the door, though no voice acompanied it. The figure shivered and pressed themself to the door. "Hu-hurry."

Setting

Wing City

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#2011-06-14 17:06:11, as written by Patcharoo

The figure was there no longer, not in physical form, gone as a blackish goop slipped beneath the door frame and into the house. It slowly congealed back into a humanoid form once more, though it had an unusual touch; the head of the oil-like being was that of a canine, snarling angrily.
But throughout the house the figure seemed to remain, forever just beyond vision, lurking in reflections, beyond windows and in doorways at the end of corridors barely noticed. There was little more they could do here. It was up to Gayle now.

Setting

Wing City

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#2011-06-14 17:31:37, as written by Patcharoo

It would feel like plunging your head into oil. All around the face, the skull, it would feel like liquid filled every orifice. It was not quite like drowning as there was no sense of liquid moving, just the strange surrounding feel of being submersed. The figure was coming towards Gayle's voice now, growling, raising one hand for the woman.

But contrasting to the sheer discomfort and subtle horror that was felt by wearing the mask was an out of place feeling. Distantly there was a sense of Shaded, calmly sitting on the bar stool, body a disgusting abomination to the world, talking in a polite voice and apologising for his misdeeds, the same sense of humanity that made his forced violence almost like a surreal dream. If one were to look closely at the path of the Corruption, they would begin to notice a very subtle trend.

Setting

Wing City

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#2011-06-15 18:39:11, as written by Patcharoo

It would feel like plunging your head into oil. All around the face, the skull, it would feel like liquid filled every orifice. It was not quite like drowning as there was no sense of liquid moving, just the strange surrounding feel of being submersed. The figure was coming towards Gayle's voice now, growling, raising one hand for the woman.

But contrasting to the sheer discomfort and subtle horror that was felt by wearing the mask was an out of place feeling. Distantly there was a sense of Shaded, calmly sitting on the bar stool, body a disgusting abomination to the world, talking in a polite voice and apologising for his misdeeds, the same sense of humanity that made his forced violence almost like a surreal dream. If one were to look closely at the path of the Corruption, they would begin to notice a very subtle trend.

Setting

Wing City

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#2011-06-15 19:00:00, as written by Patcharoo

The corruption thing trudged forth, voice calling from within the wolfish head. 'You know' it answered simply. The extended hand suddenly split in two, forming what almost appeared to be a stethoscope. It was planning to go for her ears, almost as if ignoring the mask entirely. The wolven mouth turned to a snarl, as if a threat for Gayle to remain complacent and just remain still.

Setting

Wing City

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#2011-06-15 19:19:28, as written by Patcharoo

The beast headed creature all but blocked the path straight before Gayle, though it didn't seem to be making much an attempt to cover its sides. One could probably shove past it, with a bit of effort. Almost as if anticipating her motions a soft spoken voice echo'd quietly. "Wait, please. You are safe." The voice was internal, surely, though judging by the direction it came from and the proximity, it was the mask speaking. Still, the other creature seemed to take no notice of any noises, tendrils stretching out to either side like a set of ants jaws waiting to clamp down..

Setting

Wing City

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#2011-06-15 19:33:39, as written by Patcharoo

Down came the black tendrils, slapping for Gayle's hands if she did not move, trying to slip through small gaps in her fingers like liquid, creeping for her skull. The voice would remain calm, reassuring. "Your mind is safe, though, perhaps some magic would not go awry should the creature realise you are protected." The voice was all too familiar, though it had been so long since it had been heard, and another, in fact the one before Gayle, had stolen the name of the owner. Shaded.

Setting

Wing City

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#2011-06-24 15:19:15, as written by Patcharoo

Standing her ground, Gayle realized she had nowhere left to go and could only stand her ground. Squaring her shoulders, she stood as fearlessly as possible, bolstered by the distant sense of Shaded, of the bizarre ‘humanity’ of the being downstairs. “What do you want?” she whispered through a throat that felt clogged by thick oil.

The corruption thing trudged forth, voice calling from within the wolfish head. 'You know' it answered simply. The extended hand suddenly split in two, forming what almost appeared to be a stethoscope. It was planning to go for her ears, almost as if ignoring the mask entirely. The wolven mouth turned to a snarl, as if a threat for Gayle to remain complacent and just remain still.

Setting

Wing City

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#2011-06-24 15:20:18, as written by Patcharoo

Safe? Gayle thought to herself, panicked. This seemed far from safe. Still, seeing as how she was mostly blocked, and really didn’t like her chances of trying to sneak past the snarling creature to begin with, she remained where she was, hands clamped firmly over her ears. Adrenaline coursed through her body as she stood before the figure. “I said no,” she repeated, firmly, as if reiterating something to a child.

Down came the black tendrils, slapping for Gayle's hands if she did not move, trying to slip through small gaps in her fingers like liquid, creeping for her skull. The voice would remain calm, reassuring. "Your mind is safe, though, perhaps some magic would not go awry should the creature realise you are protected." The voice was all too familiar, though it had been so long since it had been heard, and another, in fact the one before Gayle, had stolen the name of the owner. Shaded.

Setting

Wing City

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#2011-06-24 15:34:58, as written by Patcharoo

The feeling of oil would run over her hands, cold to the touch, practically revolting. It would slide for the narrow gaps in all parts of her, caused by her hands, her hair, the little bumps on the skin and the way bones didn't meet up. Slowly it would leak towards her ears. The voice otherwise remained silent, leaving Gayle to focus.

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Wing City

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#2011-06-24 15:55:38, as written by Patcharoo

The water splashed over the figure, causing a surprised yelp to come from them for the moment. They jumped back, slipping on the now wet surface and falling over. It seemed, despite their growling, snarling and viciousness, the wolf headed creature was not fully prepared for any form of resistance.

The setting changes from Wing City to Gypsy Camp

Setting

Gypsy Camp

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Character Portrait: Whisper (Jacquelyn Rose)

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#2011-11-04 04:26:53, as written by Tiko

“It is as you said, we have not touched it,” an elderly gypsy woman explained, as she offered a staff across to Whisper. The item had been carefully bound and tied securely in cloth.

Whisper took the item carefully, offering only a slight nod of her head and a soft, “Thank you.”

The cloth was slid away as her finger tips danced across the cool surface of the object. It gave her a sense of déjà vu but little more.

“Do you require anything else?” the elder woman asked.

Whisper gave a gentle shake of her head and the gypsy woman rested a comforting hand upon her shoulder momentarily before heading out of the back room of the small caravan.

For a time Whisper just sat there in silence, taking in her surroundings and listening to the hushed voices carrying to her from the other room. The carvan was far too enclosed for her to not overhear them. Though, perhaps they too realized that, for though she could hear them, they spoke in their native tongue, of which Whisper knew only a few words. However, of those few words, curse was one she was familiar with, and it was uttered frequently.

As the time droned on, the conversation died out and the participants disbanded until Whisper was left to her solitude and the silence that blanketed the caravan. And still she sat.

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Gypsy Camp

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#2011-11-04 04:35:06, as written by Tiko

The room grew darker as the moonlight outside was blotted out, and the whispers that danced across her mind caused Whisper to withdraw her hand as if burned. The abrupt start and stiffening of her body caused the staff to clatter to the floor at her feet.

It was a strange feeling that settled over her, a feeling of unease without a source. The whispered voices were so familiar... shadows, shadows that danced at the corners of your vision, whispering softly. Always there, always watching, but gone again when you turn to find them.

Bringing her hands up she rubbed at her temple lightly, trying to make sense of her disjointed thoughts. They didn't make any sense to her.

Setting

Gypsy Camp

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#2011-11-04 04:47:30, as written by Tiko

It was several long moments before Whisper gathered her nerve to face her anxiety. Whatever the staff was, it was a link to her past. To find herself she needed to start at the beginning. At least that was what she had been told. Something about to know herself, she first needed to understand the paths she had traveled...

Reaching a hand down, she closed it around the staff firmly this time.

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Gypsy Camp

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#2011-11-04 05:42:09, as written by Patcharoo

Light shone down, the clouds parting as an off-yellow filtered through the air to where Whisper sat. It would be easy to mistake it for the moon once more, but it was not so. To say she was being watched was an understatement. The clouds would, however, close once more, yellow light vanishing. The whispering immediately took up once more, subtle and all around. "-the subject is fear. That's how-" the voices barely raised for a moment before dying down once again. There was the sound of dirt kicking up, someone skidding to a halt on the other side of the caravan, followed by rapid, fearful breathing.

Setting

Gypsy Camp

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#2011-11-04 05:56:05, as written by Tiko

Aside from the subtle shift in the murkiness of the room, the light went largely unnoticed by Whisper. Such changes were easily accounted for by shifts in the clouds and the moonlight outdoors. Instead she closed her eyes and let her fingers play across the staff once more.

However, her concentration was disrupted by a spike of fear and anxiety that filled her thoughts. It wasn't her own though, no this came from another. Perhaps she should have been cautious, but the gypsies had met her with only kindness. Leaning the staff against the wall she rose to her feet and gently parted the curtain that separated the back area of the caravan from the rest.

The caravan had been abandoned, save for her. Forsaking caution further she carefully opened the front door of it and stepped outside. The fear was there in the back of her throat, but beneath it, her own emotions were calm, confused perhaps, but calm.

Closing the door quietly behind her, she hugged her arms around herself against the chill of the night air, her eyes casting about for the source of the her confusion. The gypsies had retired for the night though, and she found only silence, and darkness.

Setting

Gypsy Camp

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#2011-11-04 06:00:49, as written by Patcharoo

Out in the open the fear would likely magnify, then at once dull, as if whoever it had been had just stepped inside the very caravan Whisper had just left. "-its a power that could give you exactly what-" the voice fluttered again from the staff. The sense of fear would magnify as rather literally just beyond the curtain a man was currently perched very much like a gargoyle, head leant forward to stare right at the back of Whisper's head.

They wore a mask, a mask of eyes, three of them staring forward.

Setting

Gypsy Camp

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#2011-11-04 06:13:42, as written by Tiko

Whisper rubbed her arms lightly to ward against the chill. The steady presence of fear that fluttered at her mind didn't seem to be abating, or changing. Her empathy was largely proximity based and so the change in location was lost on her. She lacked the focus necessary to pinpoint its source.

Feeling mildly foolish for standing out in the cold, she opted to return inside. Perhaps the staff was the source, as it had been with the whispers, and there was no one out here at all. Opening the door, she found herself face to face with a mask.

Her heart all but leaped into her throat as she took a startled step back, a hand coming to her chest. “Good heavens, you frightened me,” she managed to utter as she tried to regain her composure. Though, it took only a moment more for the realization to dawn on her, that there was only one entrance into the caravan.

Setting

Gypsy Camp

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#2011-11-04 06:17:14, as written by Patcharoo

The figure immediately jerked backwards, falling from the chair to the floor. They scrambled backwards until they met a wall, back pressed to it. Their nervous voice forced out a stutter of, "S-sorry." Their legs continued to kick as if desperate to get away from Whisper, sheer abject terror rippling through the heart of the man. He began to rise from his frantic leg-flailing.

A hand was offered out, though his entire body trembled, revealing more eyes across his knuckles and arms. In the peace between words his lips could be seen moving, mouthing out two words. Whispering. Watching.

The Whisperer

0 · 642 views · located in The Bluff

a character in “The Multiverse”, originally authored by Patcharoo, as played by RolePlayGateway

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History

So begins...

The Whisperer's Story

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The setting changes from Wing City to Gypsy Camp

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