Q
QuelledHeretic
Guest
Original poster
[This is an intro, as an OOC is not required.
The link to the OOC for any questions or concerns is here: http://space-kitten.org/iwaku/showthread.php?t=2442
The setting is what you make it, but the base area is a completely sealed off neighborhood, suburban perfection that goes for miles. A dark fog begins to sweep over the area, and the people who live in the houses begin to go outside and take notice.]
Rules:
-Keep bad language to a minimum, this is an RP geared toward newer players and by using foul language in place of emotion and reactions, posts become cheap and trivial. You are allowed to use bad language, but try to explain your feelings in detail.
-This is a horror RP, so there will be gore.
-NPCs are perfectly fine, as it's easier to kill an NPC with a creature than it is to kill a player. Only kill your own NPCs unless otherwise decided by the player whose NPCs you wish to kill. -This is a large neighborhood, so entering players may come in at any time without issue.
[-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------]
Father Brandon stepped from his house slowly, looking at the darkened cloud that seemed to be nearing his neighborhood. He let out a small gasp and gently gasped the cross around his neck. Never before had this feeling come over him before, an unrelenting sense of fear. It was as if someone was squeezing his lungs in his chest, keeping him from breathing and making his heart race.
He walked slowly toward the curb, never looking away from the sky, never letting go of his cross. He stopped suddenly and heard the hum of demons nearing him. His belief in his god drew them to him, but he had his faith. This faith did not settle him, as even with the power of his god, he felt helpless and alone.
One step. Then another. Then a sound louder than the scream of Satan himself was heard across the area. The twisted metal and bloodied viewpoint from someone not from the neighborhood, a new player in this world of darkness. The priests body was thrown over his car and smashed on the street behind. The car stopped, but slowly. There was no screeching stop, no rush to help. A horn blared on, fractured parts keeping it going, and a door slowly opened. It creaked and moaned as the man stepped from his vehicle, and a window smashed as he closed it.
The man neared the body of the priest and using his foot, kicked the body over. He could tell the priest was still alive, albeit barely. Stepping on his neck, he collapsed his windpipe and snapped his neck. Grinning slowly, he began to walk toward the house from which the priest came as if nothing happened. He slid his hands in his pockets as he whistled softly and picked up the newspaper from the porch, flipping it open as he shut the door behind him.
The link to the OOC for any questions or concerns is here: http://space-kitten.org/iwaku/showthread.php?t=2442
The setting is what you make it, but the base area is a completely sealed off neighborhood, suburban perfection that goes for miles. A dark fog begins to sweep over the area, and the people who live in the houses begin to go outside and take notice.]
Rules:
-Keep bad language to a minimum, this is an RP geared toward newer players and by using foul language in place of emotion and reactions, posts become cheap and trivial. You are allowed to use bad language, but try to explain your feelings in detail.
-This is a horror RP, so there will be gore.
-NPCs are perfectly fine, as it's easier to kill an NPC with a creature than it is to kill a player. Only kill your own NPCs unless otherwise decided by the player whose NPCs you wish to kill. -This is a large neighborhood, so entering players may come in at any time without issue.
[-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------]
Father Brandon stepped from his house slowly, looking at the darkened cloud that seemed to be nearing his neighborhood. He let out a small gasp and gently gasped the cross around his neck. Never before had this feeling come over him before, an unrelenting sense of fear. It was as if someone was squeezing his lungs in his chest, keeping him from breathing and making his heart race.
He walked slowly toward the curb, never looking away from the sky, never letting go of his cross. He stopped suddenly and heard the hum of demons nearing him. His belief in his god drew them to him, but he had his faith. This faith did not settle him, as even with the power of his god, he felt helpless and alone.
One step. Then another. Then a sound louder than the scream of Satan himself was heard across the area. The twisted metal and bloodied viewpoint from someone not from the neighborhood, a new player in this world of darkness. The priests body was thrown over his car and smashed on the street behind. The car stopped, but slowly. There was no screeching stop, no rush to help. A horn blared on, fractured parts keeping it going, and a door slowly opened. It creaked and moaned as the man stepped from his vehicle, and a window smashed as he closed it.
The man neared the body of the priest and using his foot, kicked the body over. He could tell the priest was still alive, albeit barely. Stepping on his neck, he collapsed his windpipe and snapped his neck. Grinning slowly, he began to walk toward the house from which the priest came as if nothing happened. He slid his hands in his pockets as he whistled softly and picked up the newspaper from the porch, flipping it open as he shut the door behind him.