Learning curve test dump

[Folksy]

[warning=red]his RP will be filled with some sensitive subject matter. Rape, gore, racism, to name a few. This is your trigger warning. Don't join if you think this stuff will bother you. If you have a content question, again, HMU[/warning]
[bg=#89712a]

Southern Gothic

​

This Rp takes place a little off the coast of southern Georgia, in the swampy town of Cross Cove on Cross Island. It's not really an island, technically it's still attached to the mainland by swampy marshlands. The place was mostly populated by lethargic-looking church-going people who've lived there for generations, and a couple rich busybodies who'd contracted extravagant beach houses only to move in and realize that Cross Cove is the ugliest, stinkiest, and darkest strip of the Eastern coast and the fact that it was "untouched" wasn't because it was undiscovered by big motel and hotel tycoons, but because no one in their right mind would vacation there. The year was 1965 and while the rest of the country was slowly trying to heal the wound that was racism, Cross Cove was letting it fester.

Cross Cove has very little notable history, except for it once being the home of a very famous and very notable voodoo queen Mae Wilder who was a slave at the Oakview plantation and who supposedly cast a curse on the Chaplin family that many locals still believe to be real. Cross Cove has other interesting stories, but none that the rest of the world takes note of or even knows. You will tell another story of Cross Cove, one that likely won't be notable to the rest of the world, but is extremely notable to the residents of the hell called Cross Cove. The story starts like this:

Someone's been kidnapping women. The women range from thirteen to forty-two but they all have one thing in common: they've been mostly black. Ten women in total have been abducted and haven't been found. More recently, there have been two deaths. One, an eighteen-year-old white girl found washed up on the bank of the marsh. She was the reverend's daughter. The other one was a girl of unknown age and race found in the woods, burnt to a black dryness, tied to a post amit a bunch of scorched logs. Local police could not identify the body and the coroner's said that the fire was not the cause of death, but rather a bullet through the head killed the girl.

You'll play a friend or family member of one of the girls killed or one of the girls still missing. Each of you will've been brought to Cross Cove in your own way. If you're the reverend's daughter's friend (and you have to play a friend for her), you probably live in town. If you want to be the burnt girl's friend or family, pm me for info. If you play one of the missing girl's friends, you were probably contacted by the police, or you live in town. Your goal will be to either find your friend/family member, or to find out who killed her. It's obvious the police aren't looking into the issue as much as they should, so it's time to take things into your own hands. Some of you will come into town with clues about the whereabouts to your friend/family member, some of you will come into town with secrets. Some of you will have clues intertwined with your secrets, but your best bet will be to work together.

[/bg]

 

[Folksy]

Pentecostal Church & Cemetery:
There are about three churches on Cross Cove, but only one that has enough sway in the community to be of note. And that is Pentecostal Church. It's known for the sign out front that has always said: "Let the dead bury the dead," and it's tight-knit group of believers who meet on weeknights, lights off, sneaking in through the back way to perform snake handling in the church basement. Everyone knows it's a felony. Everyone knows it's happening. No one will say anything. The church itself is an impossibly old building, one of the oldest churches still standing in the US, if the records are correct. The floors creak -letting everyone know when you leave or enter the service, so don't move- and the air smells like mildew and old books. There is a wooden pulpit, an old pipe organ, and pews that hurt your back. Most people go to here even if they are not believers, but church services have been temporarily closed; Reverend Jacob Glere is in mourning for his daughter and refuses to hold service. Even the midnight tests of faith have been neglected. People are starting to worry about his well-being.

To the back and the left of the church is the cemetery. It's the only cemetery on Cross Cove, and almost all the inhabitants of Cross Cove think Mae Wilder rests there and comes out at night. People say they see her, sitting in the corner of the lot, carving things into various gorey objects. Other than the occasional teenager or -God forbid- wandering tourist, people are generally very respectful of this place. It's important to the people of Cross Cove. It's almost always completely silent. People only whisper and birds don't chirp. Don't enter unless you have a reason.

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/15/62/71/15627131ee9d1172921527a21b220546.jpg[.img][/center]



The Marsh:
[center][img]https://sleepycoffeeandfables.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/img_0475.jpg​

The marsh is a mingling of salt a freshwater, skilled fisherman, and a number of sinister animals. It's mostly too shallow to navigate, unless you know what you're doing. Mostly you only find well-seasoned boatmen on it and the shore. This is where the reverend's daughter was found.

Neighborhoods:
Excluding the uncommon old plantation house or newly commissioned lavish beach house, most of the neighborhoods in Cross Cove are the same cozy houses with big southern-porch, sand-resistant siding over and over again in a row. Most streets are nestled among the moss-covered live oaks and orange floodlight light posts. In the day, kids ride bikes around on the cracked sidewalk and people off work or unemployed like to sit on their porch, drinking a cold drink, reading a book maybe. In the daytime, neighborhoods are a sleepy, safe sort of place many people would love to retire in.

At night, the neighborhoods of Cross Cove are normally still safe. You might have once seen a few people walking around at night, going home, taking a stroll through the picturesque scene. But now . . . there is no movement on the streets at night. People are too scared of being grabbed up and never being seen again. In all likelihood, the neighborhoods are probably still safe to walk at night, but to the paranoid population of Cross Cove, well, better safe than sorry.

Downtown:
A short, walkable line of salt-damaged, faded buildings, ending in the peir. The buildings included in this once-cheery line are: a hardware store, a bar where the bartender has memorized everyone's drink, a failing knick-knack store, a drugstore, a dark green bank, a hotel with bright yellow walls inside, a dance studio, the county law office, and a couple other nondescript buildings for some purpose or another. The street looks like it should constantly be abandoned, but is uncharacteristically always full of people.


Lighthouse & Pier:
The pier is right off of the downtown mainstreet, like an extension of mainstreet out onto the ocean. There are very few beaches on Cross Cove, and the peir is no exception; it steps out onto the ocean past a rocky shore. There is no way to get to the water over the rocks (there's a fence, but the rocks are too slippery to walk on anyway) so the only access you have to the water is on the pier. There are a few vendors in the area who consistently sell boiled peanuts, hotdogs, and cold drinks. Most days, there are a gaggle of locals fishing or crabbing off the side of the pier. It's a picturesque spot and a great meeting place.

If you're looking at the pier from mainstreet, the lighthouse is just to the left. It's a short stubby little thing with a seemingly weak bulb, but it does the job. Every Time a cargo ship heading up to Savannah passes, they blare their horns to salute the pitiful thing, and it instills the locals with pride. The lighthouse isn't actually run by a family anymore; the coast guard runs it and every time the team comes down once a week to clean the windows and tend to it a little bit, the old locals get nostalgic for the time when a family lived at the cabin at the base.

Oakview Plantation:
Oakview is a touchy subject for most of the residents of Cross Cove. See, before the civil war, Oakview was a very successful cotton plantation. The pride of Cross Cove, it was owned by the rich Chaplain family who boasted of having been descendants of the first American settlers. The actual main house was the picture of southern elegance and affluence. The Chaplain family often held large and lavish parties for their friends and their friend's friends and their friend's friend's friends. All the white people in town with something nice enough to wear came, and despite the gap in wealth, the whole town seemed to love the Chaplain family. But there are rumors that back then the Chaplains would brutally torture their slaves. Of course, no one back then gave a shit. Nowadays, the Chaplains still live in Oakview and they still own most of the old farmland their predecessors had. They don't make nearly as much as the slaveholding Chaplains did before the Civil War, but they do still have much of the old fortune. Some people are still very wary of the family, rumors fly about them all the time: they're cursed, or they still practice the terrible torture methods that used to be conducted in the basement, stuff like that. But still, they supply jobs to anyone who can work on the fields and they even run a charity for school kids or something like that, so no one has ever said anything to their face.

 

[Folksy]

Pentecostal Church & Cemetery

There are about three churches on Cross Cove, but only one that has enough sway in the community to be of note. And that is Pentecostal Church. It's known for the sign out front that has always said: "Let the dead bury the dead," and it's tight-knit group of believers who meet on weeknights, lights off, sneaking in through the back way to perform snake handling in the church basement. Everyone knows it's a felony. Everyone knows it's happening. No one will say anything. The church itself is an impossibly old building, one of the oldest churches still standing in the US, if the records are correct. The floors creak -letting everyone know when you leave or enter the service, so don't move- and the air smells like mildew and old books. There is a wooden pulpit, an old pipe organ, and pews that hurt your back. Most people go to here even if they are not believers, but church services have been temporarily closed; Reverend Jacob Glere is in mourning for his daughter and refuses to hold service. Even the midnight tests of faith have been neglected. People are starting to worry about his well-being.

To the back and the left of the church is the cemetery. It's the only cemetery on Cross Cove, and almost all the inhabitants of Cross Cove think Mae Wilder rests there and comes out at night. People say they see her, sitting in the corner of the lot, carving things into various gorey objects. Other than the occasional teenager or -God forbid- wandering tourist, people are generally very respectful of this place. It's important to the people of Cross Cove. It's almost always completely silent. People only whisper and birds don't chirp. Don't enter unless you have a reason.

The Marsh

The marsh is a mingling of salt a freshwater, skilled fisherman, and a number of sinister animals. It's mostly too shallow to navigate, unless you know what you're doing. Mostly you only find well-seasoned boatmen on it and the shore. This is where the reverend's daughter was found.

Neighborhoods

Excluding the uncommon old plantation house or newly commissioned lavish beach house, most of the neighborhoods in Cross Cove are the same cozy houses with big southern-porch, sand-resistant siding over and over again in a row. Most streets are nestled among the moss-covered live oaks and orange floodlight light posts. In the day, kids ride bikes around on the cracked sidewalk and people off work or unemployed like to sit on their porch, drinking a cold drink, reading a book maybe. In the daytime, neighborhoods are a sleepy, safe sort of place many people would love to retire in.

At night, the neighborhoods of Cross Cove are normally still safe. You might have once seen a few people walking around at night, going home, taking a stroll through the picturesque scene. But now . . . there is no movement on the streets at night. People are too scared of being grabbed up and never being seen again. In all likelihood, the neighborhoods are probably still safe to walk at night, but to the paranoid population of Cross Cove, well, better safe than sorry.

Downtown

A short, walkable line of salt-damaged, faded buildings, ending in the peir. The buildings included in this once-cheery line are: a hardware store, a bar where the bartender has memorized everyone's drink, a failing knick-knack store, a drugstore, a dark green bank, a hotel with bright yellow walls inside, a dance studio, the county law office, and a couple other nondescript buildings for some purpose or another. The street looks like it should constantly be abandoned, but is uncharacteristically always full of people.

Lighthouse & Pier

The pier is right off of the downtown mainstreet, like an extension of mainstreet out onto the ocean. There are very few beaches on Cross Cove, and the peir is no exception; it steps out onto the ocean past a rocky shore. There is no way to get to the water over the rocks (there's a fence, but the rocks are too slippery to walk on anyway) so the only access you have to the water is on the pier. There are a few vendors in the area who consistently sell boiled peanuts, hotdogs, and cold drinks. Most days, there are a gaggle of locals fishing or crabbing off the side of the pier. It's a picturesque spot and a great meeting place.

If you're looking at the pier from mainstreet, the lighthouse is just to the left. It's a short stubby little thing with a seemingly weak bulb, but it does the job. Every Time a cargo ship heading up to Savannah passes, they blare their horns to salute the pitiful thing, and it instills the locals with pride. The lighthouse isn't actually run by a family anymore; the coast guard runs it and every time the team comes down once a week to clean the windows and tend to it a little bit, the old locals get nostalgic for the time when a family lived at the cabin at the base.

 

[Folksy]

[accordion | 100]

 

[Folksy]

Title

Content

Title

Content

 

[Folksy]

Pentecostal Church & Cemetery The Marsh Neighborhoods Downtown Lighthouse & Pier Oakview Plantation

• 
  There are about three churches on Cross Cove, but only one that has enough sway in the community to be of note. And that is Pentecostal Church. It's known for the sign out front that has always said: "Let the dead bury the dead," and it's tight-knit group of believers who meet on weeknights, lights off, sneaking in through the back way to perform snake handling in the church basement. Everyone knows it's a felony. Everyone knows it's happening. No one will say anything. The church itself is an impossibly old building, one of the oldest churches still standing in the US, if the records are correct. The floors creak -letting everyone know when you leave or enter the service, so don't move- and the air smells like mildew and old books. There is a wooden pulpit, an old pipe organ, and pews that hurt your back. Most people go to here even if they are not believers, but church services have been temporarily closed; Reverend Jacob Glere is in mourning for his daughter and refuses to hold service. Even the midnight tests of faith have been neglected. People are starting to worry about his well-being.
  
  To the back and the left of the church is the cemetery. It's the only cemetery on Cross Cove, and almost all the inhabitants of Cross Cove think Mae Wilder rests there and comes out at night. People say they see her, sitting in the corner of the lot, carving things into various gorey objects. Other than the occasional teenager or -God forbid- wandering tourist, people are generally very respectful of this place. It's important to the people of Cross Cove. It's almost always completely silent. People only whisper and birds don't chirp. Don't enter unless you have a reason.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  The marsh is a mingling of salt a freshwater, skilled fisherman, and a number of sinister animals. It's mostly too shallow to navigate, unless you know what you're doing. Mostly you only find well-seasoned boatmen on it and the shore. This is where the reverend's daughter was found.
• 
  Excluding the uncommon old plantation house or newly commissioned lavish beach house, most of the neighborhoods in Cross Cove are the same cozy houses with big southern-porch, sand-resistant siding over and over again in a row. Most streets are nestled among the moss-covered live oaks and orange floodlight light posts. In the day, kids ride bikes around on the cracked sidewalk and people off work or unemployed like to sit on their porch, drinking a cold drink, reading a book maybe. In the daytime, neighborhoods are a sleepy, safe sort of place many people would love to retire in.
  
  
  
  
  At night, the neighborhoods of Cross Cove are normally still safe. You might have once seen a few people walking around at night, going home, taking a stroll through the picturesque scene. But now . . . there is no movement on the streets at night. People are too scared of being grabbed up and never being seen again. In all likelihood, the neighborhoods are probably still safe to walk at night, but to the paranoid population of Cross Cove, well, better safe than sorry.
• 
  A short, walkable line of salt-damaged, faded buildings, ending in the peir. The buildings included in this once-cheery line are: a hardware store, a bar where the bartender has memorized everyone's drink, a failing knick-knack store, a drugstore, a dark green bank, a hotel with bright yellow walls inside, a dance studio, the county law office, and a couple other nondescript buildings for some purpose or another. The street looks like it should constantly be abandoned, but is uncharacteristically always full of people.
• 
  The pier is right off of the downtown mainstreet, like an extension of mainstreet out onto the ocean. There are very few beaches on Cross Cove, and the peir is no exception; it steps out onto the ocean past a rocky shore. There is no way to get to the water over the rocks (there's a fence, but the rocks are too slippery to walk on anyway) so the only access you have to the water is on the pier. There are a few vendors in the area who consistently sell boiled peanuts, hotdogs, and cold drinks. Most days, there are a gaggle of locals fishing or crabbing off the side of the pier. It's a picturesque spot and a great meeting place.
  
  
  
  
  If you're looking at the pier from mainstreet, the lighthouse is just to the left. It's a short stubby little thing with a seemingly weak bulb, but it does the job. Every Time a cargo ship heading up to Savannah passes, they blare their horns to salute the pitiful thing, and it instills the locals with pride. The lighthouse isn't actually run by a family anymore; the coast guard runs it and every time the team comes down once a week to clean the windows and tend to it a little bit, the old locals get nostalgic for the time when a family lived at the cabin at the base.
• 
  Oakview is a touchy subject for most of the residents of Cross Cove. See, before the civil war, Oakview was a very successful cotton plantation. The pride of Cross Cove, it was owned by the rich Chaplain family who boasted of having been descendants of the first American settlers. The actual main house was the picture of southern elegance and affluence. The Chaplain family often held large and lavish parties for their friends and their friend's friends and their friend's friend's friends. All the white people in town with something nice enough to wear came, and despite the gap in wealth, the whole town seemed to love the Chaplain family. But there are rumors that back then the Chaplains would brutally torture their slaves. Of course, no one back then gave a shit. Nowadays, the Chaplains still live in Oakview and they still own most of the old farmland their predecessors had. They don't make nearly as much as the slaveholding Chaplains did before the Civil War, but they do still have much of the old fortune. Some people are still very wary of the family, rumors fly about them all the time: they're cursed, or they still practice the terrible torture methods that used to be conducted in the basement, stuff like that. But still, they supply jobs to anyone who can work on the fields and they even run a charity for school kids or something like that, so no one has ever said anything to their face.

 

[Folksy]

Pentecostal Church & Cemetery The Marsh Neighborhoods Downtown Lighthouse & Pier Oakview Plantation

• There are about three churches on Cross Cove, but only one that has enough sway in the community to be of note. And that is Pentecostal Church. It's known for the sign out front that has always said: "Let the dead bury the dead," and it's tight-knit group of believers who meet on weeknights, lights off, sneaking in through the back way to perform snake handling in the church basement. Everyone knows it's a felony. Everyone knows it's happening. No one will say anything. The church itself is an impossibly old building, one of the oldest churches still standing in the US, if the records are correct. The floors creak -letting everyone know when you leave or enter the service, so don't move- and the air smells like mildew and old books. There is a wooden pulpit, an old pipe organ, and pews that hurt your back. Most people go to here even if they are not believers, but church services have been temporarily closed; Reverend Jacob Glere is in mourning for his daughter and refuses to hold service. Even the midnight tests of faith have been neglected. People are starting to worry about his well-being.
  
  To the back and the left of the church is the cemetery. It's the only cemetery on Cross Cove, and almost all the inhabitants of Cross Cove think Mae Wilder rests there and comes out at night. People say they see her, sitting in the corner of the lot, carving things into various gorey objects. Other than the occasional teenager or -God forbid- wandering tourist, people are generally very respectful of this place. It's important to the people of Cross Cove. It's almost always completely silent. People only whisper and birds don't chirp. Don't enter unless you have a reason.
  
  
  
• 
  The marsh is a mingling of salt a freshwater, skilled fisherman, and a number of sinister animals. It's mostly too shallow to navigate, unless you know what you're doing. Mostly you only find well-seasoned boatmen on it and the shore. This is where the reverend's daughter was found.
• 
  Excluding the uncommon old plantation house or newly commissioned lavish beach house, most of the neighborhoods in Cross Cove are the same cozy houses with big southern-porch, sand-resistant siding over and over again in a row. Most streets are nestled among the moss-covered live oaks and orange floodlight light posts. In the day, kids ride bikes around on the cracked sidewalk and people off work or unemployed like to sit on their porch, drinking a cold drink, reading a book maybe. In the daytime, neighborhoods are a sleepy, safe sort of place many people would love to retire in.
  
  At night, the neighborhoods of Cross Cove are normally still safe. You might have once seen a few people walking around at night, going home, taking a stroll through the picturesque scene. But now . . . there is no movement on the streets at night. People are too scared of being grabbed up and never being seen again. In all likelihood, the neighborhoods are probably still safe to walk at night, but to the paranoid population of Cross Cove, well, better safe than sorry.
• A short, walkable line of salt-damaged, faded buildings, ending in the peir. The buildings included in this once-cheery line are: a hardware store, a bar where the bartender has memorized everyone's drink, a failing knick-knack store, a drugstore, a dark green bank, a hotel with bright yellow walls inside, a dance studio, the county law office, and a couple other nondescript buildings for some purpose or another. The street looks like it should constantly be abandoned, but is uncharacteristically always full of people.
• 
  The pier is right off of the downtown mainstreet, like an extension of mainstreet out onto the ocean. There are very few beaches on Cross Cove, and the peir is no exception; it steps out onto the ocean past a rocky shore. There is no way to get to the water over the rocks (there's a fence, but the rocks are too slippery to walk on anyway) so the only access you have to the water is on the pier. There are a few vendors in the area who consistently sell boiled peanuts, hotdogs, and cold drinks. Most days, there are a gaggle of locals fishing or crabbing off the side of the pier. It's a picturesque spot and a great meeting place.
  
  
  
  
  If you're looking at the pier from mainstreet, the lighthouse is just to the left. It's a short stubby little thing with a seemingly weak bulb, but it does the job. Every Time a cargo ship heading up to Savannah passes, they blare their horns to salute the pitiful thing, and it instills the locals with pride. The lighthouse isn't actually run by a family anymore; the coast guard runs it and every time the team comes down once a week to clean the windows and tend to it a little bit, the old locals get nostalgic for the time when a family lived at the cabin at the base.
• Oakview is a touchy subject for most of the residents of Cross Cove. See, before the civil war, Oakview was a very successful cotton plantation. The pride of Cross Cove, it was owned by the rich Chaplain family who boasted of having been descendants of the first American settlers. The actual main house was the picture of southern elegance and affluence. The Chaplain family often held large and lavish parties for their friends and their friend's friends and their friend's friend's friends. All the white people in town with something nice enough to wear came, and despite the gap in wealth, the whole town seemed to love the Chaplain family. But there are rumors that back then the Chaplains would brutally torture their slaves. Of course, no one back then gave a shit. Nowadays, the Chaplains still live in Oakview and they still own most of the old farmland their predecessors had. They don't make nearly as much as the slaveholding Chaplains did before the Civil War, but they do still have much of the old fortune. Some people are still very wary of the family, rumors fly about them all the time: they're cursed, or they still practice the terrible torture methods that used to be conducted in the basement, stuff like that. But still, they supply jobs to anyone who can work on the fields and they even run a charity for school kids or something like that, so no one has ever said anything to their face.

 

[Folksy]

Pentecostal Church & Cemetery The Marsh Neighborhoods Downtown Lighthouse & Pier Oakview Plantation

• There are about three churches on Cross Cove, but only one that has enough sway in the community to be of note. And that is Pentecostal Church. It's known for the sign out front that has always said: "Let the dead bury the dead," and it's tight-knit group of believers who meet on weeknights, lights off, sneaking in through the back way to perform snake handling in the church basement. Everyone knows it's a felony. Everyone knows it's happening. No one will say anything. The church itself is an impossibly old building, one of the oldest churches still standing in the US, if the records are correct. The floors creak -letting everyone know when you leave or enter the service, so don't move- and the air smells like mildew and old books. There is a wooden pulpit, an old pipe organ, and pews that hurt your back. Most people go to here even if they are not believers, but church services have been temporarily closed; Reverend Jacob Glere is in mourning for his daughter and refuses to hold service. Even the midnight tests of faith have been neglected. People are starting to worry about his well-being.
  
  
  
  
  To the back and the left of the church is the cemetery. It's the only cemetery on Cross Cove, and almost all the inhabitants of Cross Cove think Mae Wilder rests there and comes out at night. People say they see her, sitting in the corner of the lot, carving things into various gorey objects. Other than the occasional teenager or -God forbid- wandering tourist, people are generally very respectful of this place. It's important to the people of Cross Cove. It's almost always completely silent. People only whisper and birds don't chirp. Don't enter unless you have a reason.
  
  
  
• 
  The marsh is a mingling of salt a freshwater, skilled fisherman, and a number of sinister animals. It's mostly too shallow to navigate, unless you know what you're doing. Mostly you only find well-seasoned boatmen on it and the shore. This is where the reverend's daughter was found.
• 
  Excluding the uncommon old plantation house or newly commissioned lavish beach house, most of the neighborhoods in Cross Cove are the same cozy houses with big southern-porch, sand-resistant siding over and over again in a row. Most streets are nestled among the moss-covered live oaks and orange floodlight light posts. In the day, kids ride bikes around on the cracked sidewalk and people off work or unemployed like to sit on their porch, drinking a cold drink, reading a book maybe. In the daytime, neighborhoods are a sleepy, safe sort of place many people would love to retire in.
  
  At night, the neighborhoods of Cross Cove are normally still safe. You might have once seen a few people walking around at night, going home, taking a stroll through the picturesque scene. But now . . . there is no movement on the streets at night. People are too scared of being grabbed up and never being seen again. In all likelihood, the neighborhoods are probably still safe to walk at night, but to the paranoid population of Cross Cove, well, better safe than sorry.
• A short, walkable line of salt-damaged, faded buildings, ending in the peir. The buildings included in this once-cheery line are: a hardware store, a bar where the bartender has memorized everyone's drink, a failing knick-knack store, a drugstore, a dark green bank, a hotel with bright yellow walls inside, a dance studio, the county law office, and a couple other nondescript buildings for some purpose or another. The street looks like it should constantly be abandoned, but is uncharacteristically always full of people.
• 
  The pier is right off of the downtown mainstreet, like an extension of mainstreet out onto the ocean. There are very few beaches on Cross Cove, and the peir is no exception; it steps out onto the ocean past a rocky shore. There is no way to get to the water over the rocks (there's a fence, but the rocks are too slippery to walk on anyway) so the only access you have to the water is on the pier. There are a few vendors in the area who consistently sell boiled peanuts, hotdogs, and cold drinks. Most days, there are a gaggle of locals fishing or crabbing off the side of the pier. It's a picturesque spot and a great meeting place.
  
  
  
  
  If you're looking at the pier from mainstreet, the lighthouse is just to the left. It's a short stubby little thing with a seemingly weak bulb, but it does the job. Every Time a cargo ship heading up to Savannah passes, they blare their horns to salute the pitiful thing, and it instills the locals with pride. The lighthouse isn't actually run by a family anymore; the coast guard runs it and every time the team comes down once a week to clean the windows and tend to it a little bit, the old locals get nostalgic for the time when a family lived at the cabin at the base.
• Oakview is a touchy subject for most of the residents of Cross Cove. See, before the civil war, Oakview was a very successful cotton plantation. The pride of Cross Cove, it was owned by the rich Chaplain family who boasted of having been descendants of the first American settlers. The actual main house was the picture of southern elegance and affluence. The Chaplain family often held large and lavish parties for their friends and their friend's friends and their friend's friend's friends. All the white people in town with something nice enough to wear came, and despite the gap in wealth, the whole town seemed to love the Chaplain family. But there are rumors that back then the Chaplains would brutally torture their slaves. Of course, no one back then gave a shit. Nowadays, the Chaplains still live in Oakview and they still own most of the old farmland their predecessors had. They don't make nearly as much as the slaveholding Chaplains did before the Civil War, but they do still have much of the old fortune. Some people are still very wary of the family, rumors fly about them all the time: they're cursed, or they still practice the terrible torture methods that used to be conducted in the basement, stuff like that. But still, they supply jobs to anyone who can work on the fields and they even run a charity for school kids or something like that, so no one has ever said anything to their face.

 

[Folksy]

Pentecostal Church & Cemetery The Marsh Neighborhoods Downtown Lighthouse & Pier Oakview Plantation

• There are about three churches on Cross Cove, but only one that has enough sway in the community to be of note. And that is Pentecostal Church. It's known for the sign out front that has always said: "Let the dead bury the dead," and it's tight-knit group of believers who meet on weeknights, lights off, sneaking in through the back way to perform snake handling in the church basement. Everyone knows it's a felony. Everyone knows it's happening. No one will say anything. The church itself is an impossibly old building, one of the oldest churches still standing in the US, if the records are correct. The floors creak -letting everyone know when you leave or enter the service, so don't move- and the air smells like mildew and old books. There is a wooden pulpit, an old pipe organ, and pews that hurt your back. Most people go to here even if they are not believers, but church services have been temporarily closed; Reverend Jacob Glere is in mourning for his daughter and refuses to hold service. Even the midnight tests of faith have been neglected. People are starting to worry about his well-being.
  
  
  
  
  To the back and the left of the church is the cemetery. It's the only cemetery on Cross Cove, and almost all the inhabitants of Cross Cove think Mae Wilder rests there and comes out at night. People say they see her, sitting in the corner of the lot, carving things into various gorey objects. Other than the occasional teenager or -God forbid- wandering tourist, people are generally very respectful of this place. It's important to the people of Cross Cove. It's almost always completely silent. People only whisper and birds don't chirp. Don't enter unless you have a reason.
  
  
  
• 
  The marsh is a mingling of salt a freshwater, skilled fisherman, and a number of sinister animals. It's mostly too shallow to navigate, unless you know what you're doing. Mostly you only find well-seasoned boatmen on it and the shore. This is where the reverend's daughter was found.
• 
  Excluding the uncommon old plantation house or newly commissioned lavish beach house, most of the neighborhoods in Cross Cove are the same cozy houses with big southern-porch, sand-resistant siding over and over again in a row. Most streets are nestled among the moss-covered live oaks and orange floodlight light posts. In the day, kids ride bikes around on the cracked sidewalk and people off work or unemployed like to sit on their porch, drinking a cold drink, reading a book maybe. In the daytime, neighborhoods are a sleepy, safe sort of place many people would love to retire in.
  
  At night, the neighborhoods of Cross Cove are normally still safe. You might have once seen a few people walking around at night, going home, taking a stroll through the picturesque scene. But now . . . there is no movement on the streets at night. People are too scared of being grabbed up and never being seen again. In all likelihood, the neighborhoods are probably still safe to walk at night, but to the paranoid population of Cross Cove, well, better safe than sorry.
• A short, walkable line of salt-damaged, faded buildings, ending in the peir. The buildings included in this once-cheery line are: a hardware store, a bar where the bartender has memorized everyone's drink, a failing knick-knack store, a drugstore, a dark green bank, a hotel with bright yellow walls inside, a dance studio, the county law office, and a couple other nondescript buildings for some purpose or another. The street looks like it should constantly be abandoned, but is uncharacteristically always full of people.
• 
  The pier is right off of the downtown mainstreet, like an extension of mainstreet out onto the ocean. There are very few beaches on Cross Cove, and the peir is no exception; it steps out onto the ocean past a rocky shore. There is no way to get to the water over the rocks (there's a fence, but the rocks are too slippery to walk on anyway) so the only access you have to the water is on the pier. There are a few vendors in the area who consistently sell boiled peanuts, hotdogs, and cold drinks. Most days, there are a gaggle of locals fishing or crabbing off the side of the pier. It's a picturesque spot and a great meeting place.
  
  
  
  
  If you're looking at the pier from mainstreet, the lighthouse is just to the left. It's a short stubby little thing with a seemingly weak bulb, but it does the job. Every Time a cargo ship heading up to Savannah passes, they blare their horns to salute the pitiful thing, and it instills the locals with pride. The lighthouse isn't actually run by a family anymore; the coast guard runs it and every time the team comes down once a week to clean the windows and tend to it a little bit, the old locals get nostalgic for the time when a family lived at the cabin at the base.
• Oakview is a touchy subject for most of the residents of Cross Cove. See, before the civil war, Oakview was a very successful cotton plantation. The pride of Cross Cove, it was owned by the rich Chaplain family who boasted of having been descendants of the first American settlers. The actual main house was the picture of southern elegance and affluence. The Chaplain family often held large and lavish parties for their friends and their friend's friends and their friend's friend's friends. All the white people in town with something nice enough to wear came, and despite the gap in wealth, the whole town seemed to love the Chaplain family. But there are rumors that back then the Chaplains would brutally torture their slaves. Of course, no one back then gave a shit. Nowadays, the Chaplains still live in Oakview and they still own most of the old farmland their predecessors had. They don't make nearly as much as the slaveholding Chaplains did before the Civil War, but they do still have much of the old fortune. Some people are still very wary of the family, rumors fly about them all the time: they're cursed, or they still practice the terrible torture methods that used to be conducted in the basement, stuff like that. But still, they supply jobs to anyone who can work on the fields and they even run a charity for school kids or something like that, so no one has ever said anything to their face.

 

[Folksy]

-All Iwaku rules (duh)
-No Godmoding, mary sues, metagaming, OP characters, Instakills, making the RP all about your character, and all that other annoying shit we all hate.
-Cussing is allowed, obviously^.
-Posts must be at least two paragraphs. Now I know sometimes we all get those times where there is just /nothing/ to react to, so if it's one of those times I'll give you a pass, but other than that: two paragraphs at least.
-Please create a brand new OC for this RP, don't recycle an old one and try to fit a square peg in a round hole.
-No limit on number of characters, just make sure they're all good and you give them each enough love and support <3
-If you get bored, or IRL shit comes up, that's fine! Just let me know so we can make your character's death part of the story. I will not be upset or offended.
-If you do ghost, I'll probably kill off your character in some gruesome way once I've decided you are really gone (so post in the OC and OOC regularly)
-Characters will be accepted in one fell swoop on a quality basis (so not a first come first serve)
-FCs must be realistic and /somewhat/ fitting with the time setting.
-I encourage coded CS, but if you're shit at code like me, HMU and I will set you up with the same code I used on my characters.
-I'm super open to colab/plot/relationship ideas, so if you got any . . . HMU.
-BE NICE: I swear to God if you are harassing anyone else in the ooc I will not hesitate to report your ass.
-This RP is kind of character led. You are in charge of what happens. I will swoop in a give everyone a push when necessary but make shit happen!

 

[Folksy]

[warning=red]This RP will be filled with some sensitive subject matter. Rape, gore, racism, to name a few. This is your trigger warning. Don't join if you think this stuff will bother you. If you have a content question, again, HMU[/warning]
[bg=#89712a]

Overveiw

• Southern Gothic
  
  

  

  ​

  
  
  This Rp takes place a little off the coast of southern Georgia, in the swampy town of Cross Cove on Cross Island. It's not really an island, technically it's still attached to the mainland by swampy marshlands. The place was mostly populated by lethargic-looking church-going people who've lived there for generations, and a couple rich busybodies who'd contracted extravagant beach houses only to move in and realize that Cross Cove is the ugliest, stinkiest, and darkest strip of the Eastern coast and the fact that it was "untouched" wasn't because it was undiscovered by big motel and hotel tycoons, but because no one in their right mind would vacation there. The year was 1965 and while the rest of the country was slowly trying to heal the wound that was racism, Cross Cove was letting it fester.
  
  Cross Cove has very little notable history, except for it once being the home of a very famous and very notable voodoo queen Mae Wilder who was a slave at the Oakview plantation and who supposedly cast a curse on the Chaplin family that many locals still believe to be real. Cross Cove has other interesting stories, but none that the rest of the world takes note of or even knows. You will tell another story of Cross Cove, one that likely won't be notable to the rest of the world, but is extremely notable to the residents of the hell called Cross Cove. The story starts like this:
  
  Someone's been kidnapping women. The women range from thirteen to forty-two but they all have one thing in common: they've been mostly black. Ten women in total have been abducted and haven't been found. More recently, there have been two deaths. One, an eighteen-year-old white girl found washed up on the bank of the marsh. She was the reverend's daughter. The other one was a girl of unknown age and race found in the woods, burnt to a black dryness, tied to a post amit a bunch of scorched logs. Local police could not identify the body and the coroner's said that the fire was not the cause of death, but rather a bullet through the head killed the girl.
  
  You'll play a friend or family member of one of the girls killed or one of the girls still missing. Each of you will've been brought to Cross Cove in your own way. If you're the reverend's daughter's friend (and you have to play a friend for her), you probably live in town. If you want to be the burnt girl's friend or family, pm me for info. If you play one of the missing girl's friends, you were probably contacted by the police, or you live in town. Your goal will be to either find your friend/family member, or to find out who killed her. It's obvious the police aren't looking into the issue as much as they should, so it's time to take things into your own hands. Some of you will come into town with clues about the whereabouts to your friend/family member, some of you will come into town with secrets. Some of you will have clues intertwined with your secrets, but your best bet will be to work together.

Overveiw

[/bg]

Overveiw

• 
  

 

[Folksy]

[warning=red]This RP will be filled with some sensitive subject matter. Rape, gore, racism, to name a few. This is your trigger warning. Don't join if you think this stuff will bother you. If you have a content question, again, HMU[/warning]
[bg=#89712a]

Overveiw

• Southern Gothic
  
  

  

  ​

  
  
  This Rp takes place a little off the coast of southern Georgia, in the swampy town of Cross Cove on Cross Island. It's not really an island, technically it's still attached to the mainland by swampy marshlands. The place was mostly populated by lethargic-looking church-going people who've lived there for generations, and a couple rich busybodies who'd contracted extravagant beach houses only to move in and realize that Cross Cove is the ugliest, stinkiest, and darkest strip of the Eastern coast and the fact that it was "untouched" wasn't because it was undiscovered by big motel and hotel tycoons, but because no one in their right mind would vacation there. The year was 1965 and while the rest of the country was slowly trying to heal the wound that was racism, Cross Cove was letting it fester.
  
  Cross Cove has very little notable history, except for it once being the home of a very famous and very notable voodoo queen Mae Wilder who was a slave at the Oakview plantation and who supposedly cast a curse on the Chaplin family that many locals still believe to be real. Cross Cove has other interesting stories, but none that the rest of the world takes note of or even knows. You will tell another story of Cross Cove, one that likely won't be notable to the rest of the world, but is extremely notable to the residents of the hell called Cross Cove. The story starts like this:
  
  Someone's been kidnapping women. The women range from thirteen to forty-two but they all have one thing in common: they've been mostly black. Ten women in total have been abducted and haven't been found. More recently, there have been two deaths. One, an eighteen-year-old white girl found washed up on the bank of the marsh. She was the reverend's daughter. The other one was a girl of unknown age and race found in the woods, burnt to a black dryness, tied to a post amit a bunch of scorched logs. Local police could not identify the body and the coroner's said that the fire was not the cause of death, but rather a bullet through the head killed the girl.
  
  You'll play a friend or family member of one of the girls killed or one of the girls still missing. Each of you will've been brought to Cross Cove in your own way. If you're the reverend's daughter's friend (and you have to play a friend for her), you probably live in town. If you want to be the burnt girl's friend or family, pm me for info. If you play one of the missing girl's friends, you were probably contacted by the police, or you live in town. Your goal will be to either find your friend/family member, or to find out who killed her. It's obvious the police aren't looking into the issue as much as they should, so it's time to take things into your own hands. Some of you will come into town with clues about the whereabouts to your friend/family member, some of you will come into town with secrets. Some of you will have clues intertwined with your secrets, but your best bet will be to work together.

Overveiw

[/bg]

Overveiw

• 
  [tab=Settings]

 

[Folksy]

[warning=red]This RP will be filled with some sensitive subject matter. Rape, gore, racism, to name a few. This is your trigger warning. Don't join if you think this stuff will bother you. If you have a content question, again, HMU[/warning]
[bg=#89712a]

Overveiw

• Southern Gothic
  
  

  

  ​

  
  
  This Rp takes place a little off the coast of southern Georgia, in the swampy town of Cross Cove on Cross Island. It's not really an island, technically it's still attached to the mainland by swampy marshlands. The place was mostly populated by lethargic-looking church-going people who've lived there for generations, and a couple rich busybodies who'd contracted extravagant beach houses only to move in and realize that Cross Cove is the ugliest, stinkiest, and darkest strip of the Eastern coast and the fact that it was "untouched" wasn't because it was undiscovered by big motel and hotel tycoons, but because no one in their right mind would vacation there. The year was 1965 and while the rest of the country was slowly trying to heal the wound that was racism, Cross Cove was letting it fester.
  
  Cross Cove has very little notable history, except for it once being the home of a very famous and very notable voodoo queen Mae Wilder who was a slave at the Oakview plantation and who supposedly cast a curse on the Chaplin family that many locals still believe to be real. Cross Cove has other interesting stories, but none that the rest of the world takes note of or even knows. You will tell another story of Cross Cove, one that likely won't be notable to the rest of the world, but is extremely notable to the residents of the hell called Cross Cove. The story starts like this:
  
  Someone's been kidnapping women. The women range from thirteen to forty-two but they all have one thing in common: they've been mostly black. Ten women in total have been abducted and haven't been found. More recently, there have been two deaths. One, an eighteen-year-old white girl found washed up on the bank of the marsh. She was the reverend's daughter. The other one was a girl of unknown age and race found in the woods, burnt to a black dryness, tied to a post amit a bunch of scorched logs. Local police could not identify the body and the coroner's said that the fire was not the cause of death, but rather a bullet through the head killed the girl.
  
  You'll play a friend or family member of one of the girls killed or one of the girls still missing. Each of you will've been brought to Cross Cove in your own way. If you're the reverend's daughter's friend (and you have to play a friend for her), you probably live in town. If you want to be the burnt girl's friend or family, pm me for info. If you play one of the missing girl's friends, you were probably contacted by the police, or you live in town. Your goal will be to either find your friend/family member, or to find out who killed her. It's obvious the police aren't looking into the issue as much as they should, so it's time to take things into your own hands. Some of you will come into town with clues about the whereabouts to your friend/family member, some of you will come into town with secrets. Some of you will have clues intertwined with your secrets, but your best bet will be to work together.
  
  [tab=Settings]

[/bg]

 

[Folksy]

[warning=red]This RP will be filled with some sensitive subject matter. Rape, gore, racism, to name a few. This is your trigger warning. Don't join if you think this stuff will bother you. If you have a content question, again, HMU[/warning]

Overveiw

• Southern Gothic
  
  

  

  ​

  
  
  This Rp takes place a little off the coast of southern Georgia, in the swampy town of Cross Cove on Cross Island. It's not really an island, technically it's still attached to the mainland by swampy marshlands. The place was mostly populated by lethargic-looking church-going people who've lived there for generations, and a couple rich busybodies who'd contracted extravagant beach houses only to move in and realize that Cross Cove is the ugliest, stinkiest, and darkest strip of the Eastern coast and the fact that it was "untouched" wasn't because it was undiscovered by big motel and hotel tycoons, but because no one in their right mind would vacation there. The year was 1965 and while the rest of the country was slowly trying to heal the wound that was racism, Cross Cove was letting it fester.
  
  Cross Cove has very little notable history, except for it once being the home of a very famous and very notable voodoo queen Mae Wilder who was a slave at the Oakview plantation and who supposedly cast a curse on the Chaplin family that many locals still believe to be real. Cross Cove has other interesting stories, but none that the rest of the world takes note of or even knows. You will tell another story of Cross Cove, one that likely won't be notable to the rest of the world, but is extremely notable to the residents of the hell called Cross Cove. The story starts like this:
  
  Someone's been kidnapping women. The women range from thirteen to forty-two but they all have one thing in common: they've been mostly black. Ten women in total have been abducted and haven't been found. More recently, there have been two deaths. One, an eighteen-year-old white girl found washed up on the bank of the marsh. She was the reverend's daughter. The other one was a girl of unknown age and race found in the woods, burnt to a black dryness, tied to a post amit a bunch of scorched logs. Local police could not identify the body and the coroner's said that the fire was not the cause of death, but rather a bullet through the head killed the girl.
  
  You'll play a friend or family member of one of the girls killed or one of the girls still missing. Each of you will've been brought to Cross Cove in your own way. If you're the reverend's daughter's friend (and you have to play a friend for her), you probably live in town. If you want to be the burnt girl's friend or family, pm me for info. If you play one of the missing girl's friends, you were probably contacted by the police, or you live in town. Your goal will be to either find your friend/family member, or to find out who killed her. It's obvious the police aren't looking into the issue as much as they should, so it's time to take things into your own hands. Some of you will come into town with clues about the whereabouts to your friend/family member, some of you will come into town with secrets. Some of you will have clues intertwined with your secrets, but your best bet will be to work together.
  
  [tab=Settings]

 

[Folksy]

 dsbsadsjak

ssasasa

 

[Folksy]

[fieldbox="Southern Gothic, #002600, dashed, 10, Cinzel"]

It's only eighty-five degrees outside, but it's so humid that it feels more like a hundred. The cicadas scream around you. You can't see them through the thick canopy of hanging moss and oak branches, but they make their presence known. You can also hear your heartbeat. It's so loud you think it's going to fly out of your chest, that anyone nearby can hear the BABOOM BABOOM BABOOM of a body running on adrenaline. You are willing your heart to quiet the fuck down when you notice the cicadas have stopped. A nauseating scent wafts in front of you. It's a deadly mixture of death and swamp. Any normal person might have been spooked and left, but you're on a mission. Every death, every jinx, every little bit of appalling detail brings you closer to solving the death of your friend. [/fieldbox]​

[warning=red]This RP will be filled with some sensitive subject matter. Rape, gore, racism, to name a few. This is your trigger warning. Don't join if you think this stuff will bother you. If you have a content question: HMU[/warning]

Overveiw

• Southern Gothic
  
  

  

  ​

  
  
  This Rp takes place a little off the coast of southern Georgia, in the swampy town of Cross Cove on Cross Island. It's not really an island, technically it's still attached to the mainland by swampy marshlands. The place was mostly populated by lethargic-looking church-going people who've lived there for generations, and a couple rich busybodies who'd contracted extravagant beach houses only to move in and realize that Cross Cove is the ugliest, stinkiest, and darkest strip of the Eastern coast and the fact that it was "untouched" wasn't because it was undiscovered by big motel and hotel tycoons, but because no one in their right mind would vacation there. The year was 1965 and while the rest of the country was slowly trying to heal the wound that was racism, Cross Cove was letting it fester.
  
  Cross Cove has very little notable history, except for it once being the home of a very famous and very notable voodoo queen Mae Wilder who was a slave at the Oakview plantation and who supposedly cast a curse on the Chaplin family that many locals still believe to be real. Cross Cove has other interesting stories, but none that the rest of the world takes note of or even knows. You will tell another story of Cross Cove, one that likely won't be notable to the rest of the world, but is extremely notable to the residents of the hell called Cross Cove. The story starts like this:
  
  Someone's been kidnapping women. The women range from thirteen to forty-two but they all have one thing in common: they've been mostly black. Ten women in total have been abducted and haven't been found. More recently, there have been two deaths. One, an eighteen-year-old white girl found washed up on the bank of the marsh. She was the reverend's daughter. The other one was a girl of unknown age and race found in the woods, burnt to a black dryness, tied to a post amit a bunch of scorched logs. Local police could not identify the body and the coroner's said that the fire was not the cause of death, but rather a bullet through the head killed the girl.
  
  You'll play a friend or family member of one of the girls killed or one of the girls still missing. Each of you will've been brought to Cross Cove in your own way. If you're the reverend's daughter's friend (and you have to play a friend for her), you probably live in town. If you want to be the burnt girl's friend or family, pm me for info. If you play one of the missing girl's friends, you were probably contacted by the police, or you live in town. Your goal will be to either find your friend/family member, or to find out who killed her. It's obvious the police aren't looking into the issue as much as they should, so it's time to take things into your own hands. Some of you will come into town with clues about the whereabouts to your friend/family member, some of you will come into town with secrets. Some of you will have clues intertwined with your secrets, but your best bet will be to work together.
  
  [tab=Settings]

 

[Folksy]

[bg=COLOR 1]

YOUR CHARACTER'S NAME

Basics

Name:


Gender:


Age:


Orientation: The sexual kind


Religion:


Appearance: Height, weight, eye color, body type, race, hair, I leave it up to you. Also at least 3 pictures

Persona

Personality: Self explanatory, at least two paragraphs


Quirks/Habits: 2+


Likes: 3+


Dislikes: 3+


Fears: 2+


Skills: 3+

Background

Bio: Should include: Who your character knew that brought them into this story, how your character grew up, what brought them here, etc etc. IMPORTANT: Be thinking of some kind of secret your character has. Do NOT put it in the bio, PM me instead.

Family:


Relation: Which girl brought your character into the fold, whether it be one of the kidnaped girls, the white girl, or the burnt and shot girl (PM me so I can fill you in). If your relation is to a kidnapped girl, give a brief description here with age, a very short bio, and maybe a picture.

​

​

[/bg]

​

 

[Folksy]

[fieldbox="Southern Gothic, #002600, dashed, 10, Cinzel"]

It's only eighty-five degrees outside, but it's so humid that it feels more like a hundred. The cicadas scream around you. You can't see them through the thick canopy of hanging moss and oak branches, but they make their presence known. You can also hear your heartbeat. It's so loud you think it's going to fly out of your chest, that anyone nearby can hear the BABOOM BABOOM BABOOM of a body running on adrenaline. You are willing your heart to quiet the fuck down when you notice the cicadas have stopped. A nauseating scent wafts in front of you. It's a deadly mixture of death and swamp. Any normal person might have been spooked and left, but you're on a mission. Every death, every jinx, every little bit of appalling detail brings you closer to solving the death of your friend. [/fieldbox]​

[warning=red]This RP will be filled with some sensitive subject matter. Rape, gore, racism, to name a few. This is your trigger warning. Don't join if you think this stuff will bother you. If you have a content question: HMU[/warning]

Overveiw Basics Persona Background

• Southern Gothic
  
  

  

  ​

  
  
  This Rp takes place a little off the coast of southern Georgia, in the swampy town of Cross Cove on Cross Island. It's not really an island, technically it's still attached to the mainland by swampy marshlands. The place was mostly populated by lethargic-looking church-going people who've lived there for generations, and a couple rich busybodies who'd contracted extravagant beach houses only to move in and realize that Cross Cove is the ugliest, stinkiest, and darkest strip of the Eastern coast and the fact that it was "untouched" wasn't because it was undiscovered by big motel and hotel tycoons, but because no one in their right mind would vacation there. The year was 1965 and while the rest of the country was slowly trying to heal the wound that was racism, Cross Cove was letting it fester.
  
  Cross Cove has very little notable history, except for it once being the home of a very famous and very notable voodoo queen Mae Wilder who was a slave at the Oakview plantation and who supposedly cast a curse on the Chaplin family that many locals still believe to be real. Cross Cove has other interesting stories, but none that the rest of the world takes note of or even knows. You will tell another story of Cross Cove, one that likely won't be notable to the rest of the world, but is extremely notable to the residents of the hell called Cross Cove. The story starts like this:
  
  Someone's been kidnapping women. The women range from thirteen to forty-two but they all have one thing in common: they've been mostly black. Ten women in total have been abducted and haven't been found. More recently, there have been two deaths. One, an eighteen-year-old white girl found washed up on the bank of the marsh. She was the reverend's daughter. The other one was a girl of unknown age and race found in the woods, burnt to a black dryness, tied to a post amit a bunch of scorched logs. Local police could not identify the body and the coroner's said that the fire was not the cause of death, but rather a bullet through the head killed the girl.
  
  You'll play a friend or family member of one of the girls killed or one of the girls still missing. Each of you will've been brought to Cross Cove in your own way. If you're the reverend's daughter's friend (and you have to play a friend for her), you probably live in town. If you want to be the burnt girl's friend or family, pm me for info. If you play one of the missing girl's friends, you were probably contacted by the police, or you live in town. Your goal will be to either find your friend/family member, or to find out who killed her. It's obvious the police aren't looking into the issue as much as they should, so it's time to take things into your own hands. Some of you will come into town with clues about the whereabouts to your friend/family member, some of you will come into town with secrets. Some of you will have clues intertwined with your secrets, but your best bet will be to work together.
  
  [tab=Settings]
• [b]Name:[/b] [b]Gender:[/b] [b]Age:[/b] [b]Orientation:[/b] The sexual kind [b]Religion:[/b] [b]Appearance:[/b] Height, weight, eye color, body type, race, hair, I leave it up to you. Also at least 3 pictures
• [b]Personality:[/b] Self explanatory, at least two paragraphs [b]Quirks/Habits:[/b] 2+ [b]Likes:[/b] 3+ [b]Dislikes:[/b] 3+ [b]Fears:[/b] 2+ [b]Skills:[/b] 3+
• [b]Bio:[/b] Should include: Who your character knew that brought them into this story, how your character grew up, what brought them here, etc etc. IMPORTANT: Be thinking of some kind of secret your character has. Do NOT put it in the bio, PM me instead. [b]Family:[/b] [b]Relation:[/b] Which girl brought your character into the fold, whether it be one of the kidnaped girls, the white girl, or the burnt and shot girl (PM me so I can fill you in). If your relation is to a kidnapped girl, give a brief description here with age, a very short bio, and maybe a picture.

 

[Folksy]

https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/southern-gothic-wip.148792/https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/southern-gothic-ooc-wip.148794/https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/southern-gothic-wip.148793/

 

[Folksy]

https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/southern-gothic-wip.148792/