Separate names with a comma.
Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Shishi, Sep 4, 2012.
And now we begin role playing!
Here is my character
Twelve years old
Feel free to create your character and then we'll get to it!
Name: Jessica Rowland (00379)
Age: Looks to be about 11 years old
Appearance: Jessica has long red hair that reaches her waist. Her captors don't seem inclined to want to cut it off either. Her eyes are of a startling green color, similar to the color of emeralds. She has a pretty face with somewhat high cheek bones, but there is still some baby fat pudge to her. Her figure is thin of course and it looks like she's very weak.
Powers: Able to conjure up fire.
Alright. I shall begin our roleplay I suppose!
Ezekiel stared out at the sky blankly through the bars on his window, face as blank as it normally was with his blond hair curling around his neck and ears in a slightly obnoxious manner. He might have to ask the caretakers to give him a haircut. He turned at a soft sounds by the door and perked, wondering if maybe it was a caretaker and stood, eyes shimmering a little with slight excitement then drooped as after several minutes keys did not jingle in the handle, or the beep of the electronic key card lock giving access. He sighed softly and sat down in the only chair he was allotted and stared out at the world outside his lonely room once again.
They had her handcuffed before they brought her here to this facility. Jessica was taken away from her parents without much reason and was told she would never see them again. Her mother while she cried, did nothing to stop the caretakers from taking her away. Jessica would later understand that it wasn't because her mother didn't love her anymore, it was because resistance was futile. So they took her, and sent her here to be watched and observed.
They stopped her in front of a door, a wrought iron door. There were two men with her, and the one who wasn't holding onto her pulled out a card and slid it against the card reader. Jessica watched it, remembering what it looked like in case she had to retrieve it or perhaps fashion one. The girl didn't cry, instead she was angry. As the door to Ezekiel's cell swung open, Jessica became confused. She figured they would have put her in a cell where she would be alone. Perhaps they had run out of cells to put their captors into?
Hastily removing her handcuffs, the girl was shoved inside. Jessica's cheek skipped painfully against the floor, groaning as she rose to her knees. Her red hair curtained over her face and she turned her head away from Ezekiel, not wishing to meet his face.
"... Hello," she said through gritted teeth.
Ezekiel jumped and turned at the racket behind him, looking up as the door slammed shut. Then he spotted the little girl on on the floor in front of him and stood ubrubtly, a little scared when she seemed to just ooze anger and irritation. But she wasn't moving in a way to attack him, so he relaxed a little.
"Hello..." He murmured, eyes sparkling a little as the fear faded to be replaced by excitement. "Did they hurt you?" He asked gently, going closer and crouching.
The girl was still facing away from him, but a hand was raised which she placed her upon her arm. Quietly she turned towards the boy, the one who would be her cell mate for god knows how long. She examined him, her eyes roaming from his face and then to his clothes. Swallowing, she spoke in soft tones.
"I think I have a bruise here," and tilted towards where her hand was. "They weren't careful when they brought me in here." Suddenly her eyes flashed with anger, but she didn't lash out. "Did they take you from your parents too?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't remember." He stood and held out a hand to help out. "I've always been in this room." He gestured at the crayon covered walls and floor that had several pictures taped to the wall as well that slowly grew better and more artistic. "I don't know why they even brought you to my room. I don't really know why I'm here or what this place is... wait... does that mean you have parents? Like the people outside? You haven't been in this place your whole life?" He looked excited by the fact, face allowing a twitch of a smile and eyes widening with happiness and seeming to sparkle a bit.
As Ezekiel spoke, Jessica's eyes roved around the room, taking in the drawings. She noted that some of the paper was wrinkled and others were new drawings. She also noted how some drawings were better than others in composition and shading. It told her that this person lived her for a very long while... And Ezekiel's words confirmed her suspicions. Carefully she stood, arms out in front, but with her fists clenched. Her eyes never left the boy's face, as if he were suddenly an alien. The question about parents almost had the girl running for the door, but the look of happiness in his eyes told her otherwise. Perhaps he was a normal person... Perhaps.
"I... Yes, I live with my mom. My dad lives somewhere else, but I don't see him much," she answered in hesitant tones. "I lived in the city for all of my life, but they told me this is my new home. W-What about you, where are your parents?"
Ezekiel frowned. "I don't have any. At least I think I don't..." He shuffled a little. "What's it like having a mom? What's the outside like?" He glanced towards his window. "It looks so fun and nice out there... Do you get to play with the other kids? Does your mom hug you and kiss you when you hurt yourself?" His voice slowly filled with longing and sadness. "This is actually the first time I've spoken to some one since I've come here."
They clothed Jessica in nothing less than rags. It was a large beige colored sheet that reached down to her knees, and the sleeves extended slightly past her wrists. The garment was also far too big for her, but at least it was comfortable. The fabric wasn't itchy and not too hot - a cheap but cozy alternative to pj's. Her fingers quickly bunched the fabric together in her palm - a sign of nervousness. What was done here? Why did this boy not know what a parent was?
Her head was starting to spin from the many questions the boy kept pouring out, questions that wouldn't exist from any child if Jessica were back home. But then... She had to remember that she wasn't back home anymore, she was here in this prison. Her upper lip started to quiver, but she bit the inside of her cheek to stop the movement. She wasn't going to cry, not now.
Stiffly, she sat down, hands folded neatly in her lap.
"My mom's a wonderful person. I don't know why they would have taken me away from her, she does everything for me. She used to read to me bed time stories and tuck me into bed, she goes to work so can she pay for the food and our apartment. And when I'm having trouble with homework, she helps too even when she's tired. She loves me."
The last bit was said wholeheartedly and without hesitation. Jessica exhaled, keeping her gaze upon the boy's face. She wanted to measure his expressions and gauge his sanity.
"The outside is nice I suppose. Me and my friends go to parks and play together or we'd watch a movie. It smells bad sometimes, because of the pollution. And yes... Whenever I get hurt my Mom takes care of me." Swallowing she continued. "H-How long have you been here?"
"I've been here my whole life." He murmured, looking again at the window with longing. "I've never left this room... The park outside wasn't there until last year... it was just a field..." He turned back and smiled at her, which was only a faint quirk of the lips. "I wonder why you were taken from your mom?" He murmured, tugging at the white hem of his scrub-like shirt. "Were there others?"
Green eyes followed Ezekiel's gaze towards the window, fixating upon the park that the boy spoke of. Jessica couldn't place the park, perhaps she had never been to this part of the city. Honestly she didn't know where exactly she was; the care takers had placed a blind fold over the girl's eyes when she arrived here. When he turned and she saw that upward curve of his lips, Jessica returned the gesture.
"I-I think I know why I was brought here. And no there weren't any others, it was just me."
Holding a timid hand out in front, Jessica's eyes narrowed upon a spot in the middle of her palm. The area sparked and ignited, a small fire bursting into life before them. It crackled merrily and Jessica turned to look at her cell mate. "I hid it from everyone but maybe someone saw me do it and reported it. My mom told me to never show it anyone..."
Ezekiel stared in surprise. "You... how can you do that?" He wondered, coming closer. "It's so cool..." Hr murmured, staring closely at the flame, even reaching out and touching it, pulling away before he was burned by it's heat. "I wonder why they'd put you in with me then? I don't mind... but I can't do anything like that. i can just draw good." He looked over at his doodles then back to the flame, slightly entranced by the dancing red and yellow.
"I've always been able to do this," said the girl, cradling the plume of fire close to her chest. Jessica looked up at the boy, eyes glassy. "Maybe they ran out of room or something. Have you seen the rest of the kids here?"
She probably already knew the answer to that question. But still, how was it that a kid like him who spent his entire life here without parents turn out to be so normal? Even Jessica knew that he must have suffered some sort of damage or stagnate growth. Glancing back towards the boy's crayon drawings, she pursed her lips. "Are there cameras around here?" She asked, worried.
"I've never seen any others here." He murmured. "But they don't watch me in here with cameras." He said softly. "Why would you worry about cameras? Do you not want them to see?" He asked softly, biting his lip and looking around. "I'm really happy you're here though..." He murmured.
She rose, the ball of flame going out as her attentions were turned towards examining the room. Turning around slowly, Jessica squinted towards the various corners, her mind elsewhere. But there were no cameras, to her relief. Still, the care takers might have put microphones in the room and those could be easily hidden. She sat down, crossing her arms over her chest protectively.
"I don't like being watched," she muttered, green eyes upon the floor. "Do they watch you?"
Jessica blinked, realizing something. "I never got your name, did I?"
Ezekiel shrugged. "I don't know if they watch me. I just get food three times a day around the same time..." He mumbled. "I'm Ezekiel." He walked over and picked up his box of crayons and sat on the floor, grabbing a piece of paper from a large stack of blank, crisp white paper, like ones you'd find in a printer, and began drawing expertly. With crayons it was a bit difficult, but he made rather precise pictures now. "What's your name?"
"Jessica, Jessica Rowland," came the girl's polite reply.
She hesitated before sitting next to Ezekiel, but figured that since they were going to be cell mates for quite a while, the girl would have to get used to him. Delicate fingers grabbed a sheet of paper from the stack and she took a crayon from the box he dumped out. She chose her favorite color, red, and started doodling an amateur looking flower. It became rather obvious to her that she was a poor artist, but Jessica never was one for art. She enjoyed sports.
But how was she going to do any of that now?
"Do you get exercise?" She asked, looking up from her drawing. "I used to play soccer a lot but I don't think these people are gonna let me... I really wonder what they want to do with us."
Ezekiel shook his head at her question. "I've never been allowed out of this room." He paused as she spoke of soccer and then wondered aloud. "I do too... Maybe we've been bad or something? Or there's a law?" He bit his lip. "I don't get it... I can't do anything but you can make fire..."