Astros

Little Buster
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per day
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
Genres
Adventure, Mystery

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Cold... Your feet and hands. Stiff... Your joints and shoulders. It aches... Your whole body. Attacking your recovering consciousness, these sensations signal a headache as your eyelids struggle open. What they find is almost utter darkness. Blinking wearily, you drag your heavy head from side to side. The sensation of rough cloth greets your cheeks and temples. Alerting you to the fact you have a bag on your head. ... Why?

Before you can further explore that question, you freeze. Your gaze is locked on an object... a silhouette in the darkness. Is that? ... You're afraid to consider it. The possibility... it hadn't occurred in the time you had to grasp your surroundings. But... you're not alone. At this revelation your thoughts halt, your senses heighten, a pulse surges from your heart as it seem to skip a beat. Your hairs all stand on end... the coldness in the still air raises goosebumps across your entire body. Your breath... it becomes so loud that you pause mid inhale.

Did... did they hear you? ... Why are they just standing there? ... Who... or W-what are they? ... ... ...

A trembling exhale escapes your clenched throat... You almost gasp for air, but keep dead silent... dead still.

Moments pass... Then bleed into one another as the silhouette remains unmoving. Terror only partially fades to the calmness of rational. As your body slowly relaxes and loses its tension. Your breath returns to normal, but you still suppress its volume. Gazing around from inside the bag you try to make out the rest of the room, but to no avail. Your eyes inevitably return to the figure... it continues to looms before you.

Minutes turn to hours before you are able to summon the courage to act. Assessing your situation with momentary calm. You learn that your legs and arms are bound by rope. Beneath you is cold concrete, and from your limited senses, you gauge around you is an assortment of furniture. Your mouth has not been gagged, and your lips are free to move. Swallowing saliva to wet your dry vocal cords. You dare to speak up, risking a word.

"Hello?"

A voice returns immediately.

"Hello."

You stiffen. ... until you realize it is your own voice. An echo... But oddly somehow different. The ensuing silence does little to comfort you. So, after a moment you speak once more. Eyes still locked on the silhouette.

"Is someone there?"

"Is someone there."

...

...

...

You become slightly aggravated. This is stupid. You are talking to yourself and only making noise. You must get free, and get out of here. Wherever that might be.

You remove your gaze from the silhouette. Scanning the room while you wiggle and pry at your restraints. Ignoring the sting of the rope against your skin. You soon feel the knot loosen a bit on your arms after a few moments. Excitement mixes with haste as you return your sight to where the silhouette is... but... it is gone.

Panicked, the rope chews on your skin as you force a hand free. Grabbing at the sack on your head, you are about to wrench it off... when...




Hello. Fellow basement dwellers and fans of Edgar Allen Poe. Welcome to the interest check for Deliverance.(For those of you who didn't read the title.) A Roleplay I've had in mind for several years, but never really got around to making. Featured above is a sample of what you can expect if you find yourself interested after having wandered into this dark corner of Iwaku. And while I know it no doubt has you on the edge of your seat already. (I know I am.) Some of you may need a more specific and detailed explanation.

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Summary:

To those individuals, I will begin by stating that Deliverance in essence is a survival horror RP. Based on the concept of an older RP I participated in and various gaming titles. Such as Silent Hill, 999(Zero Escape Franchise), and D&D. (More so the map and stat/skill systems.) It is a mixture of different aspects from each, without sharing a common foundation. So while you may can attribute certain details to each franchise, it remains an original concept.(There will be no copying & pasting of scenarios here.)

What this means for the RP is that it will be set in an isolated space. Disconnected or removed from the rest of the world by physical and supernatural means. The setting specifics can be left up to group decision, but the objective will be to find a means to escape, and or uncovering how you all arrived at such a location. If that last sentence wasn't clear enough, opening amnesia is a requisite. The mystery tag also ensures that not everything will be explained, leaving you to piece things together or fill in the blanks with theory.

The horror will make itself known in varying aspects, from supernatural beings to deadly puzzles/traps. Happening upon the remains of past captives or watching as someone is mangled and mutilated while you stand by helpless are givens. And to be clear, character death will be final. However, there will be options available to those removed from the survival pool to still contribute. In a manner, it is a Choose your own Destiny game. Where upon making stupid decisions will get you killed. (The Bad End)

Writing Expectations:

In concept, this RP will require massive writing expectations of all participants. Unlike the standard system of the GM detailing the world and all the actions/outcomes. In Deliverance, the PCs will have far more influence on the course of the story. You will be required to exercise creativity and detail rooms such as your starting point. And the mental state of characters and how they react will direct the course of events in the future. Which may prove bothersome to others with different objectives.

The above IC writing is to be taken as example, so be prepared to write highly detailed and dynamic posts.(Preferably something better than my 7th-8th grade writing.) And that your decisions in writing or lack there of will affect the overall story. (Your Posts/Decisions matter. Really, I'm not trying to sell you a vidya game.)

To set a standard, I would require four paragraphs minimum per post. Posting frequency will be largely sporadic, considering not everyone will be grouped together or acting in sync. However, I expect one post a week bare minimum. Along with being active in the OOC Discord. (Dank Memes don't post themselves.)



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With that all said, who here is interested? I encourage you to ask questions as I feel I have not considered everything worth putting forward with this Interest Check. Due to this, do not be surprised if there are edits made in the future.

If you are interested, please do not simply tell me. Show me. Write something comparable to what I have given you. It can be anything as long as it is in tune with the theme of the RP. I want to see what you intend to bring to this and what about it will keep you committed. I am not looking for lukewarm interest or those with fading interest. I only seek those who can keep a commitment once made and intend to see this RP to the end. As that is my chief aim, to host this RP and see it to a close.

Thank you for your time.
 
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I'm interested, BOI

Here's the sample text.


As the blurry motion of the sack's removal is done, the victim moves her face downward in an attempt to respond to the now bright lights forced upon her irises. Placing her hands on her face for a moment as if to help the sight acclimatize, it is only then that she notices that the sack was tinted black. As her eye grew accustomed to the strong source of light, she started to look around, ever so slowly. The figure previously believed to be present was nowhere to be seen, but there was certainly no lack for destruction around the room. Something felt clear, nobody ever entered this room for a long while... Speckles of dust were illuminated in the air by the powerful white light coming from a couple of chained and jailed windows by the west side of the room. What extended for more than a few meters across south were what the young girl could only guess were once scattered wooden desks, thrown apart, ravaged and torn into bits and pieces of planks across the floor.

"Where... Where am I?" She managed to blurt out as she saw the destroyed apparatus. It was only then that she would notice the pounding migraines assaulting her head. Wincing, she quickly moved her hands to cup her head and rub it in a futile attempt to reduce the pain. After a few seconds of grunting and complaining, X eventually realizes that there's no point in it. Moving her hands to her pockets, maybe she could find her usual pills... But of course she wasn't as lucky. As she realized she no longer had her pills, though, panic finally appears on the girl's features. Her hands darting about her pockets, it was then that an enraged shout would escape her lips. Her phone was gone, her keys were gone... Just... "Just what the hell is going on here!?"

As her shouts remind her of the migraines that are still assaulting her, she grunts and finally manages to get up on her feet. Right now she had to discover what was happening. Since there was no one around, her only choice was to look around the room for clues. Was she really kidnapped? Everything felt like a blur, and all she could remember was getting home after a long day of work... And then nothing else.

Walking around the collapsed room, that almost felt like a ruin, the young girl noticed no signs of recent use. If anything, the place seemed almost desolate. The windows were so dirty that the white light going through it almost felt like fading away, and the ground was... Wet with some sort of substance that was far too black to be considered water. As the girl manages to make her way a few steps away from her original resting point, the migraines become worse, and she quickly reaches for the wall for support. Gritting her teeth, what was once grunts became pained whines.

For what felt like an eternity, she simply stays there, resting against the wall in an attempt to forget the pain, but of course it doesn't go away. When it rests and fades, ever so slowly, she moves again, this time towards what looks to be a nearby wooden frame for a door. With no door there, it is merely a passage towards what seems to be a long hallway, towards the west. As she edges the frame to look to her sides, she notices that the only light in the hallway comes from her room... Everything else is just bland and pure darkness, not even a single flicker of light in sight. "Can't get in here... Need some light... Fuck, why did they have to take away my phone..." Complaining to herself in mutters, the girl turns around to greet the bright room once more. The wooden planks hadn't moved an inch, but something else caught her attention by the south end of the room. A blackboard that extended side to side across south-most the wall of the room.

Still gripping the walls every now and again for support, the girl manages to make her way towards it. Thank the gods that she does, as by the edge of the left end of the blackboard, she finds what seems to be a lighter. Picking it up in a pained haste, her fingers fidget with it in an attempt to create light and it isn't until more than just a couple attempts that she manages to light it. Getting a longer look at it, she notices it's one of those fancy Zippo metal lighters, meaning she doesn't need to keep pushing the button to keep it ignited. "Good... This should be enough light..." She mutters as she turns towards the frame once more.

Taking one last look at the decrepit room, she wonders just where in the world is she. The windows were far too tainted for her to look through, despite the light coming through them. All she could see was the skyline. The cage also seemed to extend outside, further limiting what she could see. "What kind of twisted place would need iron caging inside and outside..." She could take a few guesses... None of them were places she ever wanted to visit.

With a sigh and final grunt of pain, the girl manages to subdue the pain, for now, and make her way towards the exit, wondering just what else awaits her inside this god forsaken hell hole...
 
The faint sound was not immediately discernible and consciousness gradually comes back into being. After a few moments he can hear whatever the sound was, much more clearly as he suddenly realizes he is now fully awake. His breathing is labored and every muscle in his body is incredibly sore, feeling almost as if he had run a fifty mile triathlon. Along with the soreness came the ever present fatigue, he is tired and even moving his fingers seems to sap whatever remaining energy he can muster. As he squirms slightly, the sound of tiny shards of broken glass can be heard beneath him, the ground is cold and grimy. The mysterious sound that had seemingly jolted him back to consciousness, once again assails his ears. But now, he recognizes the sound and it doesn't fill him with any reassurance as to his current predicament. It is laughter, but of the most grotesque and hideous kind. An incessant and winding kind of giggling that causes him to feel more anxious with every passing second.

"What the hell..." he blurts out.

The giggling continues and his urgency begins to over power his fatigue. It is now the rest of his dulled senses seem to kick back in. His hands are tied in front of him, there is a blindfold tied tightly around his eyes and he is on the floor sitting up against an adjoining wall.

"Whose that goddamit? Whose there?"

The raspy giggles didn't stop and it is now that another dormant emotion wells up to the surface...anger. Almost as if by reactionary impulse he rips off the blindfold, his eyes temporarily overloaded by the optical input, he stammers back as his eyes gradually adjust to the dim light , his vision becoming clearer as the seconds pass. Shapes and colors give way to solid forms. A few broken chairs, a filthy tattered rug, a shattered mirror in the corner, large chunks of rotted out dry wall and than what seems to be the source of the incessant laughter. Hurriedly he manages to stand to his feet, looking down he notices that his hands are bound tightly with a pair of handcuffs, but he is otherwise to free to move around. The room is just barely lit with what seems to be faded moonlight spilling in from one of the boarded up windows. But the only thing that has his undivided attention is the medium size figure sitting only a few feet in front of him. The figure sits in a old rocking chair and it is now that he sees that the "figure" is a clown. His heart beating faster and faster he begins to step cautiously towards the thing sitting down. The giggling is unceasing but strangely stays at a consistent pace, never getting any faster or slower. It almost sounds mechanical as it drones on and on.

"Who are you, what am I doing here?" he asks, but illicits no response from the seated figure. Anger once again spills over into his countenance "ANSWER ME!" but still nothing.

He begins to walk closer, rage now completely eclipsing any fear he might've had. As the gap between him and the figure shortens, he stops, his eyes now squinting in a mix of disbelief and disquieted confusion. The figure seems to be inanimate, indeed it is....an inanimate life size doll in the shape of a dilapidated looking clown. The doll is propped up on the rocking chair just sitting. The eerie mechanical giggling resonates out of the doll in an almost mocking sort of tone. Again, as if by pure instinctive reaction, he savagely kicks the doll off it's perch, which sends it crashing into a far wall. The head dislodges and the droning laughter fades out and stops.

"Just what in the goddamn hell is going on?"
 
Drip....Drip...Drip...
Each drip was louder than the last. Each drip woke the young man up a little more than before, until his eyes fluttered open. His head pounding, vision blurry, and unsure exactly where he was. The smell of the room was foul, as if someone left rotten meat out on a kitchen counter for a week. The room was dead quiet, except for the occasional...
Drip.
Blinking his eyes a few more times he could make out some objects in the room. A wooden chair with blood stains? An operating table? Why were the nailed to the ceiling? No. They weren't nailed to the ceiling, he was tied upside down. He squirmed some realize in his tired daze, being tied upside down in a mysterious room wasn't normal. Not in the slightest. He rubbed his eyes and called out.

"Hello? Where the fuck am I? Is this a fucking joke!"
He chuckled nervously, hoping a family member or friend would come out of the shadows with a tape recorder. As he called out, he noticed he wasn't the only thing hanging from the ceiling. Around him, half a dozen pigs hung from meat hooks. Gutted from top to bottom, their blood dripped down into a funnel that sat beneath each of the pigs corpses. Each funnel had a tube that funneled it into the center of the room. Right below the hanging man, into a barrel.
"Wha-What the hell?"
He squirmed some realizing that below him, was another funnel. As he squirmed, the rope that kept him suspended in the air made a weakening sound, as if whatever was holding it in the ceiling was loosened. He stopped squirming and look for something to grab ahold of realizing the rope was ready to snap.
Crack!

The man went headfirst, down into the bucket of blood. The thick pork blood entered his mouth, and down his throat as he gasped for air as he tried to yell. He squirmed in the bucket, realizing he was just big enough to fit in the bucket, but not small enough to move around freely. The stench of iron filled his nose. He tried to move his arms, but he couldn't get a grip on the side of the bucket to try and pull himself out.
He squirmed frantically, trying everything in his power to stop himself from drowning. He could feel himself slipping out of conciseness, time seemed to slow for a moment as he realized he was going to die.
Drown in a fucking barrel of pigs blood.

With one last jolt of effort, he sent his weight into the side of the bucket, and to his satisfaction he felt the barrel fall to the side. He hit the ground hard, and knocked what little air he still had in his lungs out of him. Crawling out of the bucket, he threw up on the floor. A mixture of puke, and what he hoped was pigs blood left his mouth into a puddle, that mixed in with the barrel of blood that now laid in a puddle in the room. Shakily standing, he walked slowly towards the door. Hopefully it lead to a way out of this hellish nightmare.
 
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While I had my doubts, I am very glad to see the amount of interest from you three. It makes me all the more excited to be your host. :bunny:
 
You know i'm in :D
 
I'm not too certain how the typical interest check functions, but personally I'm going to take the last ten days of silence as a sign. With only half of the roster required to host things I'm considering abandoning this RP for a later time. I will give it another two weeks for the sake of fairness to those who showed interest.

@TheQueensGuard @Chris_Reaper @Yzmael

Thanks again for your contributions.
 
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If experience is anything to go by, if a thread hasn't gotten more interest by now, this is as good as it's probably gona get. My suggestion is just to use what you have here. Because unless your Harry Potter or Star Wars most of these people won't show any interest. Not exactly a think outside the box group on this site.
 
If experience is anything to go by, if a thread hasn't gotten more interest by now, this is as good as it's probably gona get. My suggestion is just to use what you have here. Because unless your Harry Potter or Star Wars most of these people won't show any interest. Not exactly a think outside the box group on this site.
Fair enough. The remaining twelve days I'll slowly but surely put this thing together. I'll send Discord invites Wednesday or Thursday.
 
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Given the inevitable lack of interest and investment following this post. I will be postponing this RP as originally planned.