【кετรยεкí】ℓσsт ιsℓαη∂【Matthias】

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Rowlet, May 20, 2014.

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  1. [rainbow]I. Roleplay Overview[/rainbow]
    • Twenty years ago, a new energy source is discovered on a remote island. Researchers have named it XH, or extra-hydrate. A series of mysterious deaths occurred since XH was discovered. What's happening? Character A travels to the island, recruited as a researcher. Character B is a security officer, hired to patrol the base. However, what is Character B's real identity? True purpose? After a horrific incident occurs, a terrifying discover is made; zombies. Character B, along with other security guards, protect Character A and other researchers. Unfortunately, a string of unfortunate events leave them stranded on the island.

      Will they be able to survive? What happened if Character A fell for Character B?
    • Original Male Character x Original Male Character
    • ☒ Type: Original
      ☒ I became fascinated with the idea of Character B being submissive. Character A is going to be dominant.
    • ☠ No Godmodding
      ☠ All IW Rules apply.
      ☠ nly кετรยεкí & Matthias are allowed to post here.
  2. "Cause of death: Unknown. Autopsy will be held at 3 PM on the 4th of June, 2152." Dmitri stopped the recording device, setting it down on the desk in front of him, before dropping his face into his hands with a sigh. Why did this have to happen to him? The cold corpse of the teenage boy lay on the autopsy table across the room, his presence almost an accusation. From all prior investigation, the boy appeared to be completely healthy. No historical health problems that would have caused him issues, at least if his mother was telling the truth, no obviously fatal wounds, barely even any bruising. He was perfectly healthy. Well, apart from being dead, obviously. The only suspicious injury was what almost looked like a bite mark on his collarbone, but there was no way that that could have been fatal. If anything, the only thing it showed was that he might have been into something kinky.

    Dmitri let out a huff, running hands through his hair and standing up. He needed a coffee break. A person could only sit in a morgue for so long before they started going insane. A change of scenery would do him some good. He pushed open the door leading to the hallway. Already he felt better. The morgue was freezing, as was necessary to preserve the bodies. At least the hallways were a reasonable temperature, even if the air conditioning in the building meant they were significantly cooler than the tropical weather outside. Come to think of it, maybe he could got for a stroll on the beach. A little fresh air probably wouldn't do Deme any harm, even if it meant he would have to wear his sunglasses again.

    He walked into the small lounge that had originally been a laboratory, but was converted once the scientists realised that the other four laboratories would suffice, and that they were slowly going insane without quick access to coffee. Mostly for the latter reason. "Good afternoon," he murmured to the lone person who stood in the lounge. It appeared to be one of the security guards. Dmitri didn't really know who it was, and honestly he didn't care. All of the security guards had passed careful background checks, so if the company thought they were safe to be around, Dmitri would think that too. "Want some coffee?" he asked, noticing the pot was empty. If he was the only one who wanted some, he would just use the instant mix - despite it tasting like water - rather than brewing an entire pot, but if the guard wanted some, he would make enough for everyone.

  3. A young man walked inside the small lounge. He wore a black, 3/4 quarter-sleeved muscle tee, dark green camo-cargo pants, and a standard dark blue security officer jacket, zipped open to reveal his shirt underneath. He sauntered across the lounge and sat down in front of a small table. A sigh escaped his lips. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back. His mind recalled the recent report. A mere teenager? A small frown marred his lips.

    "Want some coffee?"

    Iori lifted his head. His eyes peered at the young scientist. He recognized the prodigy. He was apart of the researchers that specialized in XH. An eyebrow raised in response. "I'm fine," he murmured softly, a faint Romanian accent circulating through his tone. He rose from his seat and walked towards the water dispenser. He grasped a plastic cup and filled it. He sipped the water. "I don't like coffee," he admitted. He turned and leaned against the wall. He observed the tall researcher. His expression remained neutral. He wondered if the man discovered the source. For the last few months, a series of mysterious deaths plagued the small island. Citizens would suddenly collapse. The cause of death was unknown. Unbeknownst to Dmitri, there was more to it.

    "How is the research? Have you made progress?" he inquired politely.

    A part of him was curious. However, it didn't matter. He wasn't interested in the research. His purpose was protecting the base, nothing more. He couldn't afford any distractions.
  4. Watery coffee it would be, then. Dmitri opened one of the small cabinets hanging above the sink, digging through it to find the instant coffee mixes. 'Classic chocolate' was written on the small packet. Dmitri glared at it suspiciously. Was this coffee, or was it hot chocolate? Who the fuck put chocolate in coffee, anyways. He opened it, giving it a small sniff. Definitely coffee mixed with chocolate. Ew. Why would someone do that. Dmitri found the concept repulsive. He hated chocolate, but, oh well. He really did need a caffeine boost right now. He was about to fall asleep on his feet.

    Only when he had set the kettle to a boil did he realise the other man had asked a question. "The research is a fucking mess," he spat, surprised at the sudden burst of rage that overcame him. Deme was frustrated out of his mind with the lack of progress being made. "How on earth can someone just drop dead? No health issues, no signs of cardiac arrest or anything, not even any wounds apart from a slightly scratch on his neck, and if it had been infected enough to kill him, it would have looked infected. It looks like it's healing just fine. Was. Was healing just fine." For a researcher who worked mainly with corpses, Dmitri had a surprisingly strong hatred of death. It creeped him out, and was always certain to upset him. The death of the young was the worst. Deme believed nobody should die before they had a full, healthy life, and those who did perish only ever helped remind him of his own youth, and how close to death he could come any day.

    He poured water into the styrofoam cup holding the instant coffee mix, grimacing at the muddy brown colour. It looked disgusting. Taking a sip, Deme realised with a scowl that the appearance was not the only disgusting thing. "Goddamnit, why can't we stock some good instant coffee here? This tastes digusting."

  5. "The research is a fucking mess."

    An eyebrow raised in response. Based from his reaction, the young researcher was frustrated. It didn't surprise him, however. From what he heard, there was no progress. The scientists are having difficulties deciphering the cause of death. He ignored Dmitri's outburst. Iori lifted his Styrofoam cup and sipped his water. He observed the young man silently. It seemed he wasn't satisfied with his instant coffee. He would prefer a freshly brewed cup if he drank that type of beverage. However, it didn't matter. Iori hated the taste of coffee. Tea was a healthier substitute. "I could drive you to the marketplace so you can purchase a better brand. A break from your research would suffice," Iori offered politely.

    He turned and poured himself another cup of water. He didn't care about the young man's situation. He initiated the offer since the Vice Director asked him to purchase groceries for tonight's dinner. Doctor Fukanaga was an older, eccentric man. He had a knack for connecting with his peers. However, he possessed a habit of forcing others out of their comfort zone. As a result, he deemed it was necessary for Iori to be on grocery duty. The young security guard rarely traveled to town. He took his job seriously. He didn't have time to mingle with the locals. Most of the citizens hated the research facility. They aren't exactly friendly. A few minutes later, Iori crushed his cup and tossed it in the trash. He walked towards the exit.

    "If you wish to come, follow me," Iori announced.

    He sauntered out of the lounge and walked towards the door that led to the parking lot. He jammed his hands in his jacket pockets. His expression remained unreadable. He wasn't the type to convey his emotions.
  6. Dmitri pulled his thick hair into a ponytail, debating whether he should come. While it wasn't encouraged for the researchers to leave the lab, especially with the amount of murder victims appearing, there was nothing that strictly said he couldn't leave. Besides, some fresh air would do him a lot of good. Being trapped inside a building for ten hours a day with only corpses for company wasn't good for anyone's health, mental or physical. Besides, the guard was offering to drive. So why not go?

    He dumped the remnants of the sludge that had been filling the cup down the sink, and dropped the cup itself into the trashcan. "I'll come along. I'll be there in a minute," he said to the guard.

    Dmitri followed the man out of the breakroom, heading towards the parking lot. On the way, he ducked into his office - read: closet. They weren't great at giving the researchers enough space, hence why Dmitri spent most of his time in the morgue. He dropped his lab coat across the back of his chair, picking up his wallet from the desk. It contained money and his ID, two things which tended to be fairly helpful, especially for someone like Dmitri. Somehow, he seemed to always be the one ending up in the high security areas by accident. He was authorised to enter them, but only if he had his ID.

    "Thanks for the ride," he panted, having jogged to catch up with the security guard. While Dmitri wasn't exactly out of shape, he wasn't in shape either, and running, or really doing anything, took a decent amount of energy. It probably didn't help that he hadn't slept in the past twenty-four hours, having been so obsessed with trying to figure out how the teen had died. "I hope it's not a hassle for you?"
  7. "I hope it's not a hassle for you?"

    Iori didn't notice Dmitri made a quick detour before joining him in the parking lot. He guided the young researcher to a black SUV. He opened the driver's door, climbed inside, and buckled up. He fished out a set of keys, selected one, and inserted it into the ignition. The vehicle roared with life. "Mr. Fukanaga entrusted me with grocery duty. I would of left without you if you declined," he replied. After Dmitri was secured inside the SUV, Iori shifted the gears to drive and drove out of the parking lot. The radio station was set on a random channel. Iori wasn't the type to care about music during driving. The research facility was located up the mountain, isolated from the town down below.

    It took him fifteen minutes to arrive at Aozora, the town. He navigated through the small town and parked behind a truck next to the sidewalk. Iori killed the ignition and unbuckled his seat belt. He was completely silent during the trip. He wasn't much of a conversationalist. He stepped out of the SUV, shutting the door behind him. He locked the vehicle and walked around, heading towards the grocery store. It was located a block from his parking spot. Iori didn't bother waiting for Dmitri. He was his driver, not companion. A few locals glowered at him, noticing his security jacket. He ignored their stares, however.

    "Ah, Nightroad-san. Welcome," a kind, old woman announced. She was one of the few that was kind to Iori when he was forced to travel inside the town. He presented the woman a small, polite smile.

    "Thank you Mrs. Fubuki," he acknowledged. He bowed to her respectively and brushed past the old woman, selecting a cart and walking inside. He fished out a list from his pocket. His eyes scanned the contents. He turned left, walking towards the meat section.
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