CLOSED SIGNUPS The Promise We Made That Day

Fox of Spades

all gummed up inside
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both. It should be a give and take sort of thing.

I tend to be more aggressive if I'm GMing or if it's a 1x1.
Favorite Genres
Give me fantasy. Modern, medieval, urban, whimsical, dark, anything goes! If magic and strange wonderland-esque adventures are involved, I'll most likely hop on that train! I'm also a huge sucker for adventuring and questing. Steampunk and post-apocalyptic RPs are cool too, and slice of life (if executed well enough) is also something I enjoy.

I try to be open to different genres but those are pretty much my favorites.
Genre You DON'T Like
Romance-centric stories, it's okay as a side dish but it can't be the main course.

Fox of Spades

all gummed up inside
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both. It should be a give and take sort of thing.

I tend to be more aggressive if I'm GMing or if it's a 1x1.
Favorite Genres
Give me fantasy. Modern, medieval, urban, whimsical, dark, anything goes! If magic and strange wonderland-esque adventures are involved, I'll most likely hop on that train! I'm also a huge sucker for adventuring and questing. Steampunk and post-apocalyptic RPs are cool too, and slice of life (if executed well enough) is also something I enjoy.

I try to be open to different genres but those are pretty much my favorites.
Genre You DON'T Like
Romance-centric stories, it's okay as a side dish but it can't be the main course.
Prologue: The Winds of Change


May 29, 7:30 PM

Local police officers have been patrolling the area for almost a week, but despite their efforts, no clues regarding the disappearance of Howard Brown have been found. The local librarian was last seen by his colleagues on the 23rd of May. According to the library's staff, Mr. Brown had left early - sometime around 3:15pm - because he was feeling unwell. They called a cab for him, and when he failed to show up to work the following morning, alerted his neighbor. Mrs. Holland went to check on Mr. Brown but found that his house was completely empty.

No one has seen Mr. Brown since his disappearance on the 23rd. The officers working on his case suspect that foul play was involved - most likely an abduction or a possible homicide. The mayor's office released a statement asking residents of Oakwoods to stay alert, be vigilant, and avoid wandering the streets at night. If any of you listeners have information regarding Mr. Brown's whereabouts please contact 202-555-0167.

This has been an update from Radio 9, your source for all local news. Now for the weather—

Silence.




"You hear that, Mori?" Freddy frowned. "Possible homicide. It's a sign. We should proooobably go home."

"Freddy's right, we should... we should go home," Anna added as she eyed the tiny signal bars on her phone's screen.The radio broadcast had gone silent, and she was left with nothing but an ominous 'no signal.' She didn't like this - not one tiny bit. Mori had suggested that as the journalism club, it was their duty to investigate Mr. Brown's disappearance and report their findings to the student body. Anna had argued that since the school year had just ended, they were free from their obligation to report the truth. Mori said it was an invalid excuse, and that was the reason the three of them were standing right outside of Mr. Brown's house on a Friday night and in the middle of the pouring rain.

Anna, who'd make the wrong choice of coming in a hoodie, huddled underneath her umbrella. The house before them was surrounded by a white picket fence. They could climb it easily enough, but Flynn would throw a fit if he found out she was trespassing in the name of journalism. Also, she would rather not break any laws simply because Mori had told them to.

"Mori." Anna reached for the sleeve of her friend's shirt as if holding on would provide some sort of comfort. "We'll get in trouble."

Anna's worried demeanor was enough to bring up the fear Freddy had been trying to suppress. Stricken by the severity of what they were about to do, he nodded vigorously as if he were a bobble head on the dashboard of someone's car. "Mhm, the news reporter lady did say the police already searched the area." He looked like a crumpled plastic bag in his over-sized yellow raincoat. "It's also really cold," he said, sulking. Earlier in the day, they'd posted on their Twitter page about their plans to investigate Mr. Brown's abandoned home. Now that they were standing before it though, he was honestly scared of both what awaited them inside and what would happen to them if they entered the premises without permission. "If you guys want, I can call Alfonse and ask him to prepare hot chocolate? We can always come back in the morning?"

Unfortunately, something in the pit of Freddy's stomach told him that Mori would insist on them ploughing onward. He waited for her decision.



Middle of Nowhere - Highway to Grenfall


"Oh no," Flynn sighed as he popped open the hood of Ottermore's red delivery van. The part-time pizza deliver boy had parked alongside the highway in the middle of nowhere, and there wasn't a single soul or another car in sight. The nearest streetlamp was a good several meters away, and everything was just... eerie. It was also raining and he was pretty much soaked to the bone.

Flynn frowned. The van had been making weird noises ever since he pulled into the highway, and now, a grey plume of smoke was rising from within the vehicle's hood. Flynn reached for the engine but jerked back his hand when he felt it was hot to the touch. Maybe the rain would cool it down a little? Still, this was bad, someone in Grenfall was expecting 18 boxes of pizza in roughly fifteen minutes or so.

He wasn't going to make it there in time.

To Walter (Boss)
> Good evening, Walt. The van kind of broke down again, I think the engine overheated. Really sorry, but I might not be able to deliver the pizzas to the address on time. I'll try to see if I can do anything about it.
To Aislyn and Friday

> Hey, guys! Is the BBQ starting already? The van broke down again >-< I'm kind of stuck in the middle of nowhere right now. I promise I'll do my best to catch up. Tell Dan I'm really sorry about being late. Have fun guys.
Oh, A! Make sure Frifri doesn't eat anything weird.
Flynn placed his phone back into his pocket and narrowed his eyes at the smoking engine. He was good at driving, but fixing up cars, he was kind of clueless when it came to that. It would take a miracle to figure out what was wrong and fix it. Still, if he wanted to make it back to the barbecue in time he had to try. He looked at the engine again and his expression soured. He had no idea what was wrong with it.
 
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Fox of Spades

all gummed up inside
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both. It should be a give and take sort of thing.

I tend to be more aggressive if I'm GMing or if it's a 1x1.
Favorite Genres
Give me fantasy. Modern, medieval, urban, whimsical, dark, anything goes! If magic and strange wonderland-esque adventures are involved, I'll most likely hop on that train! I'm also a huge sucker for adventuring and questing. Steampunk and post-apocalyptic RPs are cool too, and slice of life (if executed well enough) is also something I enjoy.

I try to be open to different genres but those are pretty much my favorites.
Genre You DON'T Like
Romance-centric stories, it's okay as a side dish but it can't be the main course.
Collab by Fox of Hearts Fox of Hearts and Fox of Spades Fox of Spades


Mr. Brown's House



“No sweat! We are journalists. We’re protected, I think. You know, First Amendment or something. I’m sure Alfonse can think of ideas if it comes to that.” Mori flashed her two fraidy cats her toothiest grin before flashing them a victory sign. “So chill, okay? ‘Sides it might be a homicide. There’s no bleeding corpse visible and the murderer would’ve bailed. It’s gonna be fine. Just us being on the scene and getting an exclusive. Doing it before those vultures from Grenfall pick the place clean.”

Nudging the president of their club forward, she walked jauntily behind him giving him no chance to retreat. The fence before them was only a temporary barrier to their investigation. She nodded at Freddy and motioned for him to boost her up.




Freddy dug his heels into the ground but was still no match for Mori. It looked like they were really doing this. He gulped hesitantly then gave Anna a look - the same look he always gave her when they were about to do something reckless in the name of the news.

Anna merely shrugged in response, knowing as well as he did that Mori had an iron will that could not be easily bent.

"Um, we're technically student journalists." He also wasn't sure Mori had her facts right. "And the rain might have made the fence slipper." And she was wearing a skirt. "Are you sure about this? Alfonse makes great hot chocolate."

“I’m sure we can get some leniency being student journalists.” Mori huffed. She wasn’t willing to concede the point just yet. Not unless Fred threw some concrete evidence her way. She waved away his other concerns. They were a rehash of what was said earlier. She motioned for him to give her a leg up again. Her face already morphing into her “no nonsense” glare. She crossed her arms. “The longer we stand here the wetter we’d get. Hurry up, Fred!”
Looks like there was no changing Mori's mind. Freddy hooked his fingers together and held out his palm so Mori could use it to get over the fence. He really hoped no one would catch them because they looked beyond suspicious. It didn't help that his raincoat was a bright yellow.

Her grumbling stopped when her ears picked up a familiar ping. She grabbed her phone from inside her jacket pocket and stared. She clicked on the Twitter icon quickly. “Looks like someone’s interested in our investigation,” she cheered.

"Hey, Mori. Maybe check Twitter later?" Freddy chided. "It's kind of dangerous to do it in mid-air. And we kind of look like criminals."



Daniel's House



The end-of-the-year junior barbecue had been a bit of bust from the get-go. The original plan was to rent out the gazebo at the park and grill their would-be dinner in the great outdoors. It would have been a joint end-of-the-year activity with the science club and they would have jump-started their summer vacation with games, food, and stargazing. Unfortunately, those plans came to an end when it began to pour early in the afternoon. It was nighttime now, and the rain had yet to stop. This was the reason, Daniel and several of the other trackies were fixing up his living room. Dan's parents were nice enough to agree to the last-minute change in venue, and they were frantically cooking the ribs and pork skewers in his kitchen oven as they waited for the rest of the juniors to arrive. He was determined to see the plans through.

"Guys? Everything going okay in the kitchen... and you're watching a movie."

Dan narrowed his eyes at his girlfriend and the resident cricket of the track and field team.

"Nico? Ange? You guys in the kitchen? The rest of the juniors are going to be here in a few minutes."

They'd already managed to rearrange the kitchen - plenty of plastic chairs were brought in, and an air mattress and several blankets had been plopped in front of the TV so people could play video games or watch a movie - but they were nowhere near finished with the dinner preparations. Dan's parents had ordered a few boxes of cake for everyone before they left for a wildlife conference at Goldshore, and now it was just him and a few members of the track and field team.


"Mhm, you've got a nice collection, Dan!" Aislyn grinned up at her boyfriend from where she was seated on the floor. She and Friday had rifled through his DVD collection and were now watching The Blob. Something about an alien that liked to eat people and take on their shape. Weird but entertaining. She and Friday were slacking off when her phone began to buzz.
"Flynn says he'll be a little late. OTs van broke down again." Aislyn frowned a little as she typed up a reply. "It's raining reaaaly hard."
To Flynn
You gonna be okay, Barker? It's raining pretty bad. We'll save you a plate tho, so you better catch up, or else Friday and I are going to drag you out for 6am runs EVERYDAY.
Dan looked somewhat gutted. He was counting on Flynn to help with the preparations - Flynn was obviously the most responsible of his friends - but now it looked like he would have to carry the weight of the party-planning on his own shoulders. "Hey A, tell him to stay in his car. It's really cold out. Won't be fun to start summer vacation with the flu."

"Yes, mom," came the somewhat teasing reply.
To Flynn
Btw Dan says to stay in your car and turn up the heat. You can't get sick before the summer festival!


The red headed bug clutched Dan’s sofa cushion tighter. His eyes went round as he watched the alien creature move. “It reminds me of your Dad’s egg jelly,” he commented to Aislyn. “It’s all wobbly and filled of stuff. There was an egg inside I think. Weird salad jelly.” He nodded absentmindedly as he put his head on her shoulder. His mind happily oblivious to the fact that the boyfriend was close by. Friday’s eyes flicked to the phone in A’s hand. “H-hey! I see Flynn! Where’s he?” Bug was clearly not paying attention to her exchange with Dan earlier.

Angelique poked her head out the kitchen door. The question she wanted to ask Dan disappeared the moment she heard about Flynn. “Oh gee! That van’s ancient. They should scrap it.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m offering to pick up Wyatt and Whitley. Want me to check on Flynn on the way?”

"Nope, Flynn's being all stubborn. He said he has a big delivery to make so he's trying to fix the van." Aislyn shrugged. As far as she knew, Flynn didn't know how to fix cars. Maybe Walt taught him one summer or something. It made sense since he was the one driving their van most of the time. "And Whitley and Wyatt?" Aislyn arched an eyebrow at Ange's statement. Last she checked, Whitley wouldn't want to be caught dead with her brother. Heck, Whitley would so much as wave at her or Bree if Stacey was somewhere nearby. She found the idea of both the twins coming to the end-of-the-year party a little hard to believe.

"I invited everyone from class," Dan added. "And Wyatt's nice."

"I know. His sister, not really." Aislyn rolled her eyes.

Dan chuckled a little, both because he liked how A always showed how she felt, but also because he was a little worried she'd act icy toward Whitley when she actually arrived. As host, he had to make sure everything went smoothly.

Of course, it didn't go as smoothly as he hoped. Dan crashed into both Aislyn and Friday when his best friend practically tackled him from behind. Soon, he was sprawled out on the blankets with Aislyn and Friday as Nico asked about accompanying Ange to pick up the Barnes.

"Nico," he sighed. "Are the ribs done? We need to finish the preparations."

“Ribs?” Nico asked with a slow blink.

Billows of black smoke began pouring from inside the kitchen. There was a strong smell burnt bbq sauce in the air. “Holy! Be back, Dan! Gotta stop those fire alarms!” There was a lot of yelling and scuffling from inside the kitchen. Someone had tried to stop Nico from opening the windows, but no one seemed fast enough. The sound of heavy rain filled the house.

Ange shook her head and left the sighing to Dan. He was getting pretty good at sighing at the appropriate moments. She pitied him for being the Co-Captain of the Track and Field group to her chaotic boyfriend. “You have a point, K girl. I’ll just check in on, Wyatt.” Her fingers danced around her neon colored keyboard. Occasionally, she’d throw in several emojis and a GIF. Her conversation with Wyatt moved so quickly that it was hard for an outsider to keep up. “Whitley might not be joining. Heard Stacey wanted to throw a party today. Coincidence, huh?” Her lips quirked into a wry smile. “Sorry Dan, we might have too much food now. You know how the class usually divides themselves if Queen Bee wants to organize her get together.”

Nico jumped back into the living room looking slightly drenched. He waved his arms around energetically. “Soooooooo we lost part of the ribs thanks to the rain. The skewers are still good. The spaghetti ... let’s say we didn’t manage to remove the pot in time. They’re swimming in rainwater too.” He took a swift gulp of air. “I think pizza might be a good backup plan." He tried to give his friend a reassuring grin. Maybe offer to pay for the pizza and clean up the mess. Anything to make up for the disaster. He admitted he ought to have keep a sharper eye on things considering he was the better cook out of the lot in the kitchen. A was their best cook but she wasn’t helping out.

Dan felt the beginning of migraine coming up. Slowly, he brought up a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Why? He just wanted to do his duties as class president and end the semester with a small celebration. Dan was just about to let out a sigh when he felt two arms wrap around his waist. Aislyn was resting her chin on his shoulder. "Hey, we got this. We'll have the kitchen cleaned up in no time." She gave Nico the evil eye of course, implying that he better get moving if he wanted to live. He got the hint. She pulled away from Dan then took Friday by the arm. "We'll have kitchen cleaned up in no time. Right, buggo?" She didn't wait for him to reply and dragged away.

Dan managed a smile. Well, at least Aislyn was good at whipping people into shape.

“Of course!” Friday responded. He didn’t even bother to pause the movie. He simply let A drag him away. His movement brimming with enough restless energy to match Nico’s. The merry chirps stopped after the two entered the kitchen. Everything was a mess. Friday exchanged a glance with Aislyn before looking hopelessly at the rest of the trackies. They couldn't let Dan see this, he’d flip if he saw the state of the floor and counters. The rain seeping in was making everything worse. Friday chirped nervously as he shut the windows. There was still a faint smell of smoke. "Actually, A! You and Dan just relax. We’ll be done soon. Trist is ordering the pizza already. She said she has coupons.”

Aislyn immediately realized what Friday was implying. This was the beginning of Operation Keep Dan Out of the Kitchen.

"Yeah! I'll help him clean up." Quickly, Aislyn left the kitchen. "Oh yeah, no pizza since Flynn is stranded. Order tacos instead!"

"Is everything okay in there?" Dan asked when she emerged from the kitchen.

"Yessir! Friday's got it under control. Let's go clean the living room."
 
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Cartoonicat

Future Crazy Cat Lady
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Fine doing both (: I tend to be a little aggressive with my playing style if given free-reign, though.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Scifi, Action, Romance, LGBT, Horror, Mystery, Paranormal. I'm sure there are more, I'm just too lazy to look everything up.
Genre You DON'T Like
Modern/Slice of Life (some exceptions to this), Furry. Might be more? Can't think of them, though. Run it by me and we'll talk.

“Maybe, like, some sort of fog machine with colors?” Whitley suggested, turning over onto her stomach. She grabbed a pillow and wrapped her arms around it, smooshing the cellphone between its cushy fabric and her cheek. “People like colors and-”

Knock, knock, knock!

“God, freakin’- One sec, Stace…” She pressed the mute button and groaned a petulant “What do you want, Wyatt!?” for the umpteenth time that night. Would it kill him to leave her alone?

Her twin opened the door and glanced around her room awkwardly as if searching for what to say. It irritated her; did he interrupt her phone call just to gawk?

Before she could snap again, he gestured to the stairs behind him. “I’m heading to Dan’s party if you want to ride with me.”

“I’m not going to Dan’s party,” she said. “Stacey’s throwing a get-together tonight.”

“I can still drive you.”

Whitley shook her head, “I can’t show up in your clunky van, it’s gross.”

Wyatt frowned, “It’s our clunky van. Mom and Dad already left for date night-”

“What? But they were going to drive me!” The way he simply shrugged was infuriating. Knowing Wyatt, he probably reveled in the idea of taking her to Stacey’s party, the little stalker. “Fine,” she said. “Fine, you can drive me, but you’re still not invited to the party.”

Another shrug and then Wyatt was out the door, footsteps thudding his descent downstairs. Whitley threw on a girlish top and donned a few sparkly accouterments before following him, phone glued to her ear.


The car ride, as always, was quiet. Whitley sat in the seat next to him, legs curled underneath her and elbows propped against her knees, like some sort of preschooler who didn’t know how to sit in a chair properly. He doubted she sat like that in front of Stacey - or really anyone else outside the Barnes household. Wyatt tried thinking up subjects that might catch her interest enough to talk to him but maneuvering in the heavy downpour kept him distracted. From the cupholder, his phone lit up once, twice, several times.

“Whit,” he said. “Whit, hey, can you check my-”

His sister grabbed the phone and swiped the passcode in without prompting - Wyatt had no problem with her knowing his password - before making a face. “Angelique.”

“What’d she say?”

After a moment Whitley mumbled out a, “Wondering if you needed a ride.” She tapped the keyboard. “I responded ‘no’. Anything else?”

“Uh…” Now was his chance! He had an opening, a perfect start to a conversation. He just had no topic. “How’s school-”

“Stop!” She yelled, prompting him to slam the breaks. Whitley twisted in her seat with a frown. “You passed Stacey’s house.” Threw off her seatbelt and grabbed her purse, as well as several plastic bags of decorations. Just as Wyatt mumbled an apology and rolled into reverse, she opened the door. Stepped onto the curb with a half-hearted “Drive safe” and let the door thunk shut.

Wyatt watched her ascend the driveway. Dropped his head against the headrest with a groan. He stayed like that for a good minute, absently hoping Whitley - or even Peter - would appear in the passenger seat and accompany him to Dan's place. When nothing happened, he changed gears and pulled down the street.

***

Fifteen minutes later Wyatt stepped onto a driveway himself, alone but feeling better from the rainy drive. If Whitley didn’t feel like talking, that was okay. He’d try again tomorrow. For now, he had a party to attend.

Peeking his head in the unlocked front door, Wyatt searched for his gaggle of friends weaving in and out of the decorated kitchen. He smiled at the first person he saw. Gestured towards the door. “I think the thunder drowned out my knocking,” he searched for a place to store his soaked umbrella. “Who all is here?”
 
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Xyvian

Moving Shadow
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Speed of Light, Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both
Favorite Genres
Fantasy
Collab by Fox of Hearts Fox of Hearts and Xyvian Xyvian




Brownies. This wasn’t supposed to be a difficult recipe - Butter, Flour, Sugar, Eggs, Cocoa Powder. Yet somehow, she’d forgotten the all important chocolate chips. Blake cursed at herself under her breath. It wasn’t like her to forget anything, but with the party happening, her stress-levels were far worse than usual. She paced back and forth, staring at the first batch of brownies in front of her - They smelled delicious. They looked delicious. But she forgot chocolate chips! How was anyone supposed to enjoy them now? She kept gazing over the brownies. Would they be okay? But Ange was supposed to arrive soon and by the time the chocolate treats had finally cooled, she would be here and there’d be no time for a second batch. Hesitating, Blake pulled out her phone, staring over the contacts list. Who would be best to ask for ingredients but Ange herself. She’d have to apologise up and down though.

To Ange
Messed up the brownies - Need chocolate chips. And four eggs. And sugar. Butter too.
Sorry, I really messed up.
If you could pick those up on your way, I’d really appreciate it. Thank you and sorry again.

With a click, the message was sent and Blake put her phone to the side, her attention brought back to the brownies. Well she might as well take them out and get to cleaning. Everything needed to be squeaky clean and ready for the next batch before Ange arrived, after all.

To Blake
It’s gonna be fine. Will be over in in 20 minutes. No news from Wyatt. We have plenty of time.
How many grams of choc chips, sugar or butter? Don’t make me second guess myself.

Angelique dimmed her phone screen. A new message notification popped up but she ignored it. She gave Nico a searching look. He pointed to Dan’s back and mouthed “can’t go”. She nodded. Nico needed to stay and soothe his best friend as much as possible. Giving Dan a little space wasn’t always the best solution. Not when the guests were starting to arrive. She reached over and gave her boyfriend a quick hug. She tapped Aislyn on the shoulder and clapped Dan on the back as she passed both in quick succession.

“Blake’s waiting. No idea wher - oh hey, Wyatt!” Ange replied.

She was about to ask why he took so long to reply when her eyes strayed back to her phone. Ooops, she thought. She grinned apologetically. “Sorry bud, hurricane Nico happened.”

She waved her hand in the general area of the kitchen. The smell of burnt bbq sauce hung like incense smoke at the temple. “Sorry you’re gonna have to help with,” she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Damage control.”

Raising her voice again, she clapped him on the shoulder. “I don’t know if they ordered yet. We need a main to go with whatever didn’t drown in the rain water. You have the apps right? GrabFood, GrubHub, Seamless … not sure what delivers here aside OTs.”

Just listing down the apps made her realise how out of touch their town was. Most places here still have their own delivery people. She couldn’t recall any of their local eateries displaying food delivery company logos. Save the new Subway and their delivery takes forever because of it. It was even more humbling to think that Subway opening in their town was the most exciting event in recent months. It’s such a lonely community. They were growing but it would be a few more years before they evolve into a proper suburb. Maybe when that happens data connectivity wouldn’t be so spotty.

The only upside to this was their thriving farmer’s market. Cheap, wholesome ingredients because they were surrounded by farms. The rent situation was pretty good too based on what she heard. Many fledgling businesses came here to escape the rocketing rental in Grenfall. More and more shop houses were beginning to fill up. Places that had lay empty for years. Heck, there was even a comic and film company that opened recently. A two-man show consisting of a single dad and a new college grad. She guessed that’s the new economy. Everyone striking out on their own.

She manuveured him away a missed puddle on the floor. Her cocoa brown eyes locked onto the nearest track person. She tilted her head towards the mess. She let go of Wyatt’s shoulder after that. She started for the door again. “I’ll go get Blake and dessert.”

She grinned. “It’s nice to see her contributing.”


To Blake
Stepping out of the car. Get the door for me? The rain’s so bad. Don’t step outside.
There’s so much mud.

Angelique’s poofy hair deflated in the chilly rain. Fake tear tracks created from rain washed away some of her foundation but her mascara survived. Cold as she was, Ange was in a pretty good mood. She managed to grab a few great discounts at the supermarket. It was heaven sent. Snacks, fizzy drinks, the nice stuff, that Dan would appreciate. She hoped that would cheer the poor guy up. Humming, she tapped her foot in time to the music playing from her AirPods. Blake’s ingredients weighed down the plastic bag in her right hand. Her left hand had a plastic bag filled with frozen treats that needed to camp in her friend’s freezer until they were ready to leave.

“See! 5 minutes to spare. No speed ticket nothing. We’ll be fine,” she greeted.

The dishes had been done, but before Blake could even take a moment, her phone buzzed in her pocket, after quickly scanning the message, she’d opened the door for her friend who greeted her before rushing in to take cover from the rain. Not that Blake minded, but it was making the floor all wet. Eleanor would have a fit. She closed the door behind her before eyeing the two bags that Angelique was carrying before catching on. Some of those good were frozen and needed to stay in the freezer. Well it was the least she could do since she was already going to keep her friend waiting for a new batch of brownies.

“Sorry again, about all this,” After half hour of preparing, baking and this time mixing in the chocolate chips, the brownies were completely prepared, taken out and cooling slightly on a stand as Blake tidied up for the second time that evening. “I made the first batch really nicely too but then the chocolate chips weren’t in there but the recipe said I needed 125 grams of chocolate chips, but I used those yesterday when baking the chocolate chip cookies but-- Gah…” Blake cut off her ramble - It was common for her to interrupt herself when she went on a tangent like this. She shook her head.

“Nevermind. Thank you, Ange,” Blake let herself smile somewhat, setting the last messy plate down in the dishwasher before closing it. “Now, let’s get these brownies put away so we can still make the party,”


With the two of them working together, the brownies were soon cut up into small squares and placed inside a tupperware. And once sure she had everything - Her journal, her phone, both the brownies and cookies, Blake helped transport her baked goods and the frozen treats back to the car, and with the empty house locked up till whenever her mother would come back, the blue-haired girl got into the passenger seat, ready to get to the party. The drive was uneventful, and both arrived.

“Hello, everyone,” Blake spoke softly as she gently knocked on Dan’s front door as she entered. She gave a light smile as she held the two tupperware boxes in her other hand. “Sorry for the wait… I made a mistake with the brownies, but I fixed it, thanks to Ange,” The blue haired girl smiled as she looked towards Angelique then at the lack of people. “Oh, I guess everyone else is in the kitchen… But it’s probably better if I don’t go in there because of--” Blake cut herself off, before she could accidentally spill the beans on the kitchen situation - Thanks to Ange, she’d at least been pre-warned of the cooking chaos going on. “Uh because I’ve been in the kitchen too much lately! And you know what they say, too many cooks spoil the broth… Ahah…” The girl gave a nervous giggle as she scratched the back of her head.
 
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Warden

Memes in a Bottle
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences
The night sky was a deep, sullen blue-black as it wept rippling sheets of rain. It was the perfect time for anyone to curl up in a kitchen, buried under a thick comforter, and press their cheek against the foggy window glass as a kettle whistled in the background. ‘Course, that would be if you weren’t coming back from another supply run in Grenfall.


Moving back to this shithole was a mistake.

He knew something was up with the stupid house. It was his childhood home, sure, which was probably why Mama Rosales felt so strongly about it… but houses weren’t that cheap unless they were haunted. That or they were one fart away from collapsing, foundations and all. Lo and behold… Let’s have a rundown, shall we? Termites. A hell of a lot of them. The previous owners—the ones who bought the house—also made a lot of “modern” changes: gouged out the garden for a swimming pool, now drained and crammed high with broken knickknacks; took out the bricks and installed a fragile plaster job on the kitchen counters; and cemented over the wooden veranda. Again, probably because of the termites. He had to concede that one. Lastly, it was also clear as day that they had a teenage daughter a couple of years into her teens, because his room had been redone in this godawful pink-and-orange wallpaper and she wrote “Brenda <3 Jake” with a glowstick on the ceiling. How did he find out? Turned off the lights, collapsed on the bed after a day’s hard work, and opened his eyes.

Damn Brenda. Damn Jake, too. That was half his fault.

Ah, but the worst was what it did to his younger siblings. They had their own thing going—Carlos was in this dorky game club, and Pops was running high as a spelling bee champion—then boom. Pack up your bags, we’re leaving. The move tore them root and stem out of their environment. Just like it did when he was their age. And you wonder why your kids don’t have any friends.

Nuria let go of the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding in and steered the truck onto the curve leading back to Oakwoods. The chatter from the radio was cut off by static, and he gave it a look of unbridled annoyance. Great, another broken thing that needed fixing. His finger pressed one button after another. Nothing. That better just be bad signal.

The raindrops pelted against the truck’s hood in a deafening rhythm. Nuri narrowed his eyes, trying to see past the water, when he spotted a strange sight. A delivery truck broke down on the side of the muddy road, and the miserable idiot who drove the rust bucket was standing right in front of the hood. Even from this distance he looked as though someone just kicked him in the balls. Heh.

Wait a minute.

“’s that…”

He did a crap job of keeping up with his past friends—if they could be called that. They shared their nursery and kindergarten years together, which really didn’t amount to shit when you consider most of the class thought orange juice was God’s gift to mankind. Asides from Suni, the other faces were pretty much a blur. But he knew that one, drenched as it was in the rain. Flynn.

... He was taller in person. The pictures didn’t really show that and the last one was over two months ago.

Nuri stepped on the brakes and the truck screeched to a halt. The headlights shone at the stranded boy for a prolonged amount of time. Then, slowly, the vehicle shifted over to Flynn’s side of the road.

What was the police going to do, arrest him? There was nobody around.


(And maybe he would have considered how creepy this looked, stopping and swerving towards a person stranded in the middle of nowhere, but imagination had never been Nuri’s strong suit.)


The dark green truck rolled to another stop, and the driver’s window went down after a couple of seconds.

“Hey, Flynn,” Nuri said, leaning over and unhitching the lock to the passenger’s side, “Hop in.” He leaned back against the driver's seat and stretched his arms over his chest, waiting. That was an invitation, clear as any he could give, but hey. Maybe the dude actually enjoyed getting soaked.
 

Fox of Spades

all gummed up inside
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both. It should be a give and take sort of thing.

I tend to be more aggressive if I'm GMing or if it's a 1x1.
Favorite Genres
Give me fantasy. Modern, medieval, urban, whimsical, dark, anything goes! If magic and strange wonderland-esque adventures are involved, I'll most likely hop on that train! I'm also a huge sucker for adventuring and questing. Steampunk and post-apocalyptic RPs are cool too, and slice of life (if executed well enough) is also something I enjoy.

I try to be open to different genres but those are pretty much my favorites.
Genre You DON'T Like
Romance-centric stories, it's okay as a side dish but it can't be the main course.

Okay, okay, he could fix this. He was used to fixing other people's problems for them - Friday and Aislyn came to mine - and had a lifetime's worth of training under his belt at the ripe age of 18. How hard could fixing an engine be? Squinting, Flynn poked his head under the hood once more. Bad idea, everything smelled like smoke and the engine of the beat-up delivery van was still hot-to-the-touch despite the harsh rain.

"This is... not good."

Slowly, Flynn pulled away from the vehicle and sighed. Walt wasn't going to make him pay for the pizzas - assuming he couldn't deliver them - but he still felt bad. He'd garnered a rather good reputation at work and with Ottermore's customers and he didn't want to disappoint. Still, there was nothing he could do. It was time to text Aislyn and tell her that he was probably going to miss Dan's party.

Flynn was just about to call it quits and head back to the van to dry up when some pickup truck swerved from one lane to the next in what he could only describe as a reckless u-turn. He'd jolted upright at the sound of rubber skidding across asphalt, and when Flynn noticed the truck was - without a doubt - pulling up beside him, he brought a hand to his chest in mild concern.

Probably a lost driver who wanted directions. Proooobably.

Warily, Flynn eyed the old pickup truck, from its slightly cracked windshield to the black tarpaulin that had been thrown over the its back. The truck came to a halt, and Flynn went from eyeing the tarp to eyeing the driver - piercings, shaggy hair, and a black leather jacket.

Hey, Flynn.

The guy knew his name.

Hop in.

If things hadn't been shady enough, they were now.

"Um, thanks,"
Flynn hesitated. "It's nothing to worry about, I've got things under control. The engine just overheated so I'm waiting for it to cool down. I've got a pizza delivery to make, and my boss won't be too happy if I leave the van behind." He would have rambled on and on if he hadn't noticed the other boy's face. The first pangs of familiarity struck before he finally connected an old friend's name to the imposing young man before him: Nuri. Yeah, that was him alright. Flynn felt the blood rushing to his face. Now that he stared harder, he saw it clear as day.

"You scared me," he laughed. "It's been what? Six years?"

They were both getting drenched but Flynn didn't quite care anymore. Even after Nuri had left, they'd kept in contact through the phone at first, and then through the internet. Their online interactions petered out around two months ago, and standing face-to-face with Nuri made him feel somewhat guilty. The laughter from earlier gave way to a more somber smile. "It's really good to see you again, Nuri. What brings you back to Oakwoods?" Realizing that the more he talked, the more soaked they get, Flynn stopped himself from asking more questions.

"Oh, right, Sorry. We can catch up later." He emphasized the 'later' as if to ensure Nuri wouldn't just up and disappear for another six years. "Thanks for the offer, unfortunately," he nodded his head at the parked van. "I can't leave it behind." Flynn crinkled his nose in mild annoyance then finally relented. "You wouldn't happen to have a way with engines, would you?"
 
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AkikoYukito

Cat Lady of Questionable Sanity
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I play both Passively and Aggressively. I love to come up with ideas and twists for a story and manipulate a situation, but I also love a partner who can come up with ideas. I have no problem yielding to my partners' ideas or mashing ideas together.
Favorite Genres
Action-adventure, adult characters, age difference, alternate universe fandom, anime, crime drama, cyberpunk, darker themes, drama, dubious consent, dystopia, eastern, edo, epic quest, fairy tale, fantasy, feudal, futuristic, grimdark, heian, high fantasy, low fantasy, magic, modern, modern fantasy, modern scifi, mutants, paranormal, post-apocalyptic, psychological, romance, scifi, supernatural, urban fantasy.
Genre You DON'T Like
Atompunk; battle systems; clockpunk; cosmic horror; creepypasta; dieselpunk; fandom: cartoons, games, movies, next-gen characters, prequel, real people, shows, spin-off; historical, mindfuck, slice of life, sports, steampunk, tabletop, zombies.

"Hm.. Let's see. We've got the flashlight, rain coat, rain boots, umbrella... what else do we need?" Jorie stood in front of her bed, brown eyes focused in a pensive gaze at the items she'd splayed across her brightly-colored comforter. There was a moment of silence as she awaited a response before she looked to her shoulder. There sat a doll, the same doll she'd been holding onto for the greater part of her life: Mr. Puck. His little face framed by messy, mousy brown hair beamed up at her as it always had, his large eyes never offering so much as a hint to his secrets. The only movement the doll made was to shift as Jorie's black hair brushed against him as it slid over her shoulder. He made not a sound.

"Oh, right! Cell phone! Thanks, Mr. Puck!" She retrieved the device from where it lived on her desk and tossed it onto the bed. It bounced and clattered in collision with the flashlight. "I still feel like I'm missing something.. Oh, well!" A jaunty exclamation accompanied by a careless smile. Jorie moved to stand in front of her closet, trying to choose between the many dark-colored shirts and sweaters and vibrant pants. She picked a raven-black sweater and pink leggings.

"Jorie?" A soft voice came from the other side of the bedroom door with a subsequent gentle rapping of knuckles. The door opened on a woman of short dark hair and brown eyes. "Aren't you going to Daniel's party? It's getting late; you don't want to miss it." Her mom was surprised to see her daughter still in her pajamas.

"Yeah, I'm going. I was just getting dressed."

"Well, I was going to go on to bed; it's been a long day. If you want me to give you a ride..."

"No, no; it's fine. You go to bed. I was gonna walk, anyway."

Jorie's mother eyed her curiously a moment before taking a step back from the doorway. "Alright, but you dress properly for the weather; and be careful. Your dad is still at the conference and Jae's out for the night. Don't stay out too late." She pulled the door shut with a muffled "good-night" and shuffled down the hall.

"Good night~" Jorie called back, waiting to hear her parents' bedroom door shut before hastily getting dressed. The truth was that she had little intention of going to Dan's party. It wasn't that she didn't want to go; and maybe she might try to make it before it ended, but she had other plans. She was going to Mr. Brown's house to meet up with the Journalism club, which wasn't so much a journalism club as a paranormal-mystery-seeking club. She caught wind of her friends' intentions to have a look around the place after the librarian went missing and thought it would be a fun excursion.

She left shortly after that, making a point to jump in all the big puddles. That was a while ago.

***

As Mori poised herself to climb the fence, the bushes on the inside of the white picket fence rustled, a sound difficult to hear over the steady pattering of the downpour. A dark figure rose up from the greenery, arms raised.

"BOO!" Jorie shouted, laughing. It hadn't been her initial intention to jump out and try to scare them, but it was a novel idea that came to her on a whim and she couldn't resist. It helped that her raincoat was a dark color and could blend easily with the darkness.

"What took you guys so long to get here? I've been waiting forever." She pushed her way out of the bushes and unlocked the gate.
"Why don't you just come in, instead of trying to climb it?"
 

Fox of Spades

all gummed up inside
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both. It should be a give and take sort of thing.

I tend to be more aggressive if I'm GMing or if it's a 1x1.
Favorite Genres
Give me fantasy. Modern, medieval, urban, whimsical, dark, anything goes! If magic and strange wonderland-esque adventures are involved, I'll most likely hop on that train! I'm also a huge sucker for adventuring and questing. Steampunk and post-apocalyptic RPs are cool too, and slice of life (if executed well enough) is also something I enjoy.

I try to be open to different genres but those are pretty much my favorites.
Genre You DON'T Like
Romance-centric stories, it's okay as a side dish but it can't be the main course.
Mr. Brown's House





Boo

"We're not breaking in I promise!" Freddy.

"We're sorry, we're going to leave immediately!" Anna.

Instead of coming face-to-face with an officer of the law, both juniors were greeted by the sight of Jorie in the bushes. Not exactly something anyone wanted to see in the darkness of the night, but it was much better than the any of the alternatives.

Freddy's heart was still racing, but he - thankfully - didn't drop Mori face-first into the asphalt. Their eager leader was seemingly unshaken by Jorie's greeting, and quickly hopped over the fence. "Jorie, you're not the police." A small blessing. "Still! You shouldn't do that. Mori might have fallen down and... and you really scared Anna!" He puffed up his chest to try and seem braver, as the only boy on their "investigation" he felt it was some sort of duty to keep his friends safe, even if Mori was less fazed by it all than he was.

"You didn't tell us you were already inside," Freddy added. "You can always send a text, you know? How'd you get in?"

"Hi, Jorie!" Anna greeted from behind Freddy. "Glad you could make it. Thanks for opening the gate!"

"It does save us a lot of trouble," Freddy said.

"Mhm, though this still kind of feels like a bad idea." Anna was a bit more relaxed now that there were four of them, but investigating a missing man's house still felt very wrong. Of course, that never stopped them from snooping around in the past. "Have you heard the latest news update? The police think it was either an abduction or a homicide. Mori doesn't believe it, what do you think Jorie?"

As the girls conversed by the gate, Freddy made his way inside and began walking toward to porch.The house looked like it had been abandoned for awhile - the rocking chair outside had fallen onto its side and several of Mr. Brown's plants seemed to have withered up and died. "Signs of a struggle?" Freddy arched up his eyebrows at Mori. "How are we supposed to get inside? We can't use force, or the neighbors might call the police." He couldn't believe he'd said those words out loud, Freddy felt like a proper criminal and he didn't like it. "We should make this quick."



Daniel's House





Something strange was happening. Dan didn't know what yet, but Aislyn seemed intent on keeping him out of the kitchen. Even after Wyatt arrived, she'd re-direct, re-decorate, and keep him busy with questions about school. It was the start of summer vacation and this was the most interested in school she'd ever been. "Hey, A?" Dan narrowed his eyes. "I feel like Nico messed up and you guys are covering for him again."

"Pshh, what? That's a hundred percent wrong."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh, it's just a little rainwater. They've got it all under control, Dan."

Dan narrowed his eyes even more, but when Aislyn started to give him the puppy-dog pout, he relented. "Okay, okay, Nico's a handful at times, but I'm sure he can handle mopping up the floor."

"Friday's there to help too," Aislyn added.

Dan stopped himself from frowning. Friday and Nico fixing up his kitchen didn't sound ideal at all. "Actually, I should check on them."


"No, as the host, you should focus on greeting the guests!" Aislyn gestured to Wyatt with the saddest jazz hands ever. "Look, you haven't even said hello to Wyatt yet. He's just standing there are all bored." Sorry Wyatt, gotta take one for the team!

"Oh hey, Wyatt. Sorry, we were busy decorating and I didn't notice you coming in."

Aislyn allowed herself to relax a little. Good, good, Wyatt would keep Dan busy andddd Ange was back with Blake. "Wait, don't go in—" She didn't have to say more, as soon as Blake entered the kitchen, she practically backpedaled out of there like a pro. Aislyn, not wasting any time, ran to Blake's side and wrapped her arms around the girl's shoulders. "I'm sure the brownies taste awesome, Blake. You should definitely take a break from the kitchen, you don't wanna tire yourself out so easily." She led Blake toward the couch and locked eyes with her.

We need to keep Dan out of the kitchen.

She tried to convey the message with long staring and an even more intense nod. Hopefully Blake understood.

"So, um, Dan's got a really good movie collection. Frifri and me were looking through 'em earlier. You guys wanna check it out? You might recognize some of the movies, Wyatt. And Blake," please understand. "I'm sure you want to sit back and rest a bit."

Dan lit up when his girlfriend mentioned his movie collection. She usually wasn't too interested in space monsters. "That's a good idea! We can get some movies running while we wait for the rest." Dan paused to lift up his phone and show them Stacey's facebook post. "Though I think we're going to be the only one's here. Stace is throwing some sort of party too." Dan shrugged. He didn't like large gatherings anyway, the get-together was merely something he planned because it was customary for the class president to hold some sort of end-of-the-year gathering. If he was being honest, not having the rest of the class over, was a big relief. Thank you, Stacey.

"Anyways, Wyatt. I managed to get ALL of Star Trek on DVD." Dan placed both hands on Wyatt's shoulders and beamed. "Even the 1966 episodes. We could watch that? I also have The Twilight Zone and recently got a copy of all four Annihilation books!"

Aislyn sat down beside Dan and allowed herself to melt into the couch. Thank you, Wyatt!
 

Xyvian

Moving Shadow
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Speed of Light, Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both
Favorite Genres
Fantasy

"Y-Yes, of course..." Blake allowed herself to be ushered away from the kitchen and towards the couch. Aislyn was doing a good job at keeping Dan away from the nightmare kitchen, from what she could tell, having the situation under control. Though it was then her hot headed friend gave her a look, an intense stare down, followed by a nod. Blake glanced at the kitchen, then Daniel before she finally caught on - She'd just been roped in to helping keep Dan away from the ongoing chaotic cleanup crew. And before she could say as much, Aislyn was quick to suggest a movie, mentioning that Blake would want to rest.

"Well, I could probably handle a movie... Wait. Oh you don't mean rest like sleep. Rest like take it easy. Note to self: Don't actually fall asleep during the movie..." Blake nodded in agreement with her friend before turning her attention to the movie collection. As expected of Dan, it had a lot of Sci-Fi movies, movies that she would get lost and confused watching due to the sheer scope of what usually happened within the story. But, the visuals, they could often be pretty. And she was now on damage control duty, thanks to Aislyn. Plus, they needed to wait for the others - Though as she listened, Dan pointed out that Stacey Meyers was also holding a party. Ah, so that's why Whitley wasn't here yet. Not that it wasn't unusual for her to be far away from wherever Wyatt was. Blake couldn't help but frown as she remembered the distance between the twins, the sadness apparent in her expression. She wasn't good at hiding her feelings, after all.

Thankfully, the topic quickly changed from Stacey Meyers to movies once more. She listened as Dan suggested they watch all of Star Trek, almost excitedly so, mentioning The Twilight Zone as well as a book series Blake had not heard of before. She saw Aislyn drop into the couch beside Dan, clearly exhausted from keeping Dan out of sight of the kitchen. The blue-haired girl hesitated a bit before sitting on the other couch and speaking up.

"I've never seen Star Trek before. And Twilight Zone might be a bit too much for me... Sorry," Blake picked up a nearby cushion, hugging it to her chest as she leaned back into the sofa. "And well, I've heard nothing but good things about Star Trek, so maybe... Maybe we should just watch that if it's so good?" She wasn't lying - Blake had heard a lot of sci-fiction talk from Dan as well as Wyatt, and amongst it, Star Trek had been highly praised. And well, she trusted Wyatt's judgement when it came to stories. "Only if you guys want to of course, it's not just my decision, I-I was just throwing it out there that I've never seen it before and you both talk about it when we are gaming and I was curious but I didn't really know where to start when watching it, and I know I'll get lost if I watch it on my own--" Blake quickly pushed the cushion over her face, shutting herself up from rambling any further. Just a simple 'yes, let's watch that' would suffice! No need to blabber.

"Sorry..." Her apology was muffled by the cushion, which she let drop into her lap though she quickly looked away, cheeks slightly pink in colour. She knew her friends were used to her rambles by now, but still... It embarrassed her when she caught herself doing it.
 

Warden

Memes in a Bottle
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
No Preferences

Nuri watched Flynn fumble over an excuse out from the corner of his eye, calloused fingers unhooking like talons and drumming against the inside of one arm. He didn’t miss how pale Flynn’s face was, or how he had a hand pressed to his chest as though he played the wilting wallflower from a historical drama. As more and more seconds ticked past, Nuri began to realize that… Hey. Maybe Flynn didn’t recognize him. Or, this wasn’t his childhood friend and he just drove over to greet a random dude who happened to have the same hair color.

Aw, hell. This was embarrassing. Either way, the guy said no and that was that. What? It wasn’t as if he could get any wetter from the rain.

“If you say so.” He straightened up in his seat and shifted gears. The truck hummed louder in response. Nuri was one thought away from stepping on the gas and bolting out of there when the other man leaned in, then laughed. Wait. He was right? His expression unfroze. The rain splattered through the open window, drenching the door and the passenger’s side, but Nuri allowed himself a quick smile.

“Seven, give or take a couple of months,” he amended with a shrug. Cool as a cucumber. Not like he cried like a wuss for weeks after the move. Flynn—damn, he looked so weird—went on to ask other questions about his home life, an effort soon shelved when the rain kept wailing on him. Nuri snorted and ignored the not-so-subtle hint thrown his way. “Good choice.”

The truck window went up again and the engine stilled, though a low hum showed that it was still running. A moment later, Nuri got out of the vehicle with a large orange umbrella. Judging from the price tag still dangling from the handle, it was one of the many things he bought during his supply run in Grenfall’s many depots.

“You really have a thing for waterworks, huh?” Nuri said as he rounded past the front of the pickup truck to Flynn’s side. His voice was deep and rough, but his tone was teasing—an image further reinforced when he offered his childhood friend a crooked smile, quickly withdrawn. The last time they saw each other, as in really, physically saw each other had the both of them sobbing like wrecks as the moving truck sped farther away. At least, he did. Couldn’t see through the tears. “And OT’s? Damn. Old place still runnin’, huh. The sauce still good?”

He wordlessly handed over the umbrella and peeled his jacket off a muscular arm as they approached the pizza truck. This thing would be right at home in a museum; the only thing missing from the look was an old-timey poster of a housewife with perfect curls and ruby-red lips. Nuri used his jacket to whip away the smoke and steam coming out of the hood, eyes keen for the source of the malfunction. The heat coming from the engine told him it was gonna be a shit idea to touch it for any reason, so he hid his right fist under layers of leather and prodded at the metal with his knuckles.

The silence stretched for a while, only broken by a couple of mumbled curses as Nuri leaned closer into the smoke. Finally, he stepped back and gestured Flynn closer.

“Did you hear anythin’ odd while you were driving? Like a knocking on the metal? Look,” he pointed at a set of mechanisms half-hidden under the radiator, then quickly extended his arm to keep the other boy from getting too close to the engine. “Clutch’s all worn out. Keeps the fan manually connected to the radiator, ‘specially in old models like this. Now the fan’s loose, can’t work properly.” With a tut, Nuri leaned back and shrugged on his leather jacket once more. “Nothing I can do ‘bout it. Needs a replacement.”

His eyes flashed with a spark of anger as he considered another thing. “And don’t even think of driving the damn thing, Flynn,” Nuri scowled as he looked down at said individual, “if you don’t want to end up in at the bottom of a ditch. Call a tow truck and let your boss—er, Walt, right? Let him handle the rest. I’ll drive you where you need to go.”

Without waiting for Flynn to accept the offer, Nuri glanced back at the aged delivery truck and sneered.

“Knowin’ Oakwoods, the only thief you have to watch out for anyway is Rex, and this thing doesn’t look like it has enough lunch money. Hah!”
 
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Cartoonicat

Future Crazy Cat Lady
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Fine doing both (: I tend to be a little aggressive with my playing style if given free-reign, though.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Scifi, Action, Romance, LGBT, Horror, Mystery, Paranormal. I'm sure there are more, I'm just too lazy to look everything up.
Genre You DON'T Like
Modern/Slice of Life (some exceptions to this), Furry. Might be more? Can't think of them, though. Run it by me and we'll talk.

Daniel's House



In a flurry of greetings and instructions from Aislyn, Wyatt made his way around the more disastrous areas of the party and tried remedying what had gone wrong. While a natural problem solver, he fumbled trying to discern a quick fix for the spoiled food. He caught a few suggestions of just ordering pizza but, if Flynn’s car had broken down, would delivery even be plausible?

Unless they got it themselves.

Before taking damage-control into his own hands and cleaning the dishes, he retrieved his phone. Pulled up the text message thread between him and Peter Meyers with a swipe of his thumb.

To Peter:
Hey. I have an excuse for you to leave the party. Can you bring a few pizzas and those big bags of assorted one-serving snack packages to Dan's place? Let me know when you get this.

Stashing his phone away, Wyatt felt a little better about the food crisis. Peter proved reliable throughout the years; the two often went out of their way for each other. Plus, he doubted Peter wanted to hang around Stacey and Rex for the whole night. Running an errand for a friend would cover him leaving just fine.

A quarter through washing dishes, Wyatt held up the dirty dish scrub caked in burnt BBQ sauce and broken strings of spaghetti. He frowned. “I wonder where they keep their extra cleaning supplies…” After fumbling through the kitchen cabinets and drawers to no avail, he stepped out of the kitchen, hands wet and slightly sudsy, and wandered towards the nearest closet only to get dragged into the spotlight by Aislyn.

“Huh? But I’ve been-” Oh. Oh. Aislyn knew he'd been cleaning, but Dan didn’t, and now it was a game of keeping him out of the kitchen lest he pop a blood vessel at the remaining mess. “-Here. I’ve been here. Don’t worry about it; hosting a party seems… hectic.” The smell of freshly made brownies cut through the chaos long enough for Wyatt to note Ange and Blake had arrived. He hadn’t eaten dinner that night, figuring he’d eat at Dan’s, so the temptation of chocolate was strong. “Hey, can I have one of those-”

Before Wyatt could grab a brownie, two hands planted themselves on his shoulders. His head whipped to face Dan. What was happening?

Sci-fi was happening.

“Even 1966? Annihilation? While definitely impressive, TV paled in comparison to a good ol’ paper book - especially a complete boxset. Dan was speaking his language, loud and clear. “That’s incredible! I’m still waiting for the library to order the rest of the saga so I can read them during my shifts.”

Amidst talking movies and books, Blake spoke up, her voice a subtle reminder that Wyatt and Dan were not the only ones in the room. His smile faltered, guilty for getting so wrapped up in Nerd Talk that he forgot his surroundings, but she didn’t seem to have noticed; Blake was too busy rambling. Wyatt’s smile softened as she pulled the pillow up to her face. The image reminded him vaguely of Whit, back when they were kids and she struggled to make conversation without going red in the face.

“Star Trek sounds good,” he said. Glanced at Dan for confirmation. “The Original Series isn’t as visually appealing as The Next Generation but I find it more satisfying to start with Roddenberry’s original vision and see how humanity has progressed since. Deep Space Nine is good, too. Then again…” he scratched his head, brows scrunching, “...we’ll probably only get through a few episodes before the night’s over, regardless of what we choose, so it doesn't matter that much.” Crossed his arms, his tousling having fluffed up a section of brown hair on the side.

Wyatt looked in Blake’s direction. “Would you rather watch something more modern, or do you not mind dated costumes and ideology?” He and Dan had already seen the entire show from start to finish, movies included, so it was only fair to ask Blake how she wanted to be introduced. It was a different process for everyone.
 

Xyvian

Moving Shadow
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Speed of Light, Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both
Favorite Genres
Fantasy

When her words interrupted the two friends, Blake felt almost guilty for stopping the sci-fi talk with her own ramble. Stupid Blake, read the room why don't you. She was no good at this damage control thing, but Aislyn had given one of her scary stares and now she was roped into making sure things went smoothly. As out of control as the kitchen situation was, maybe it would be better if she helped out there - She was a part of the cooking club, and was fairly used to the chaotic moments from there. Why would this one be any different? Though Nico was involved. And Friday. Okay, the more she thought about it, it made more sense to stay out here. She fidgeted somewhat, before realising that Wyatt was now talking to her and not Dan. She listened, intently, making a note of the differences - So the older one wasn't as visually appealing but was better? Hm.

"W-Well..." She hesitated between the two choices Wyatt had given her. "Umm, I well... I usually get lost when watching Science Fiction films, they use a lot of confusing terms so I always like it when there's strong visuals but if I watch the modern episodes now, I might not be able to appreciate the older episodes... But I might get confused if we watch the older episodes - You said they were from 1966 - Which means they are quite old and might be really different from what I'm used to," There she went again, talking their ears off, only this time it was at least relevant to the discussion. "I worry I might not understand what's going on, then I might have to bug you with questions," When she was confused, she made it always a point to ask, but interrupting them during a TV show was far different from asking why she couldn't progress in a video game. "But... I'll trust your judgement. You said the Roddenberry's version is more satisfying to start with, so I'll pick that. I'll just try to keep my questions to myself. Or in my journal. Maybe the show will answer them later. But if it doesn't, I can then look it up later - Or no, no that'll lead to spoilers," Blake shook her head, her mind going a mile a minute. She was getting ahead of herself.

"I-I'll just... watch and find out. If I keep debating about it with myself, we're not even going to finish one episode. Oh but how long is one episode? Twenty minutes? Sixty Minutes-- Ah, j-just put the show on!" Blake covered her face with the pillow again. Gosh, was it really so difficult to pick? She peered out from behind the cushion, shyly glancing at both Wyatt and Dan. She couldn't manage this task, and she was already freaking out internally over picking a TV show. "W-What I mean to say is... I'm fine, we can watch the older episodes, that makes more sense," See, was that so hard to say? Well given that she was still partially buried into a couch cushion, yes, yes it was. But she'd given at least a fairly normal answer. The blue-eyed girl turned her gaze away to stare at the TV screen, just hoping to move past it.
 

Cartoonicat

Future Crazy Cat Lady
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Fine doing both (: I tend to be a little aggressive with my playing style if given free-reign, though.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Scifi, Action, Romance, LGBT, Horror, Mystery, Paranormal. I'm sure there are more, I'm just too lazy to look everything up.
Genre You DON'T Like
Modern/Slice of Life (some exceptions to this), Furry. Might be more? Can't think of them, though. Run it by me and we'll talk.

Stacey’s Party​




Standing at the door, umbrella shielding her from the rain, Whitley spared a moment to collect herself before twisting the handle. The jeans she wore were a bit snug but they elongated her legs. The lacey tank she’d chosen wasn’t her favorite, but Stacey said it was her color. Whitley was pretty sure her heels would don blisters by the end of the night, but the wedges made her tall, elegant-looking. They were worth it, right?

“Worth it,” she reminded herself and stepped into the multi-story home with too many rooms to count. Neon lights and deep bass music hit her like a truck, reminding her of Hollywood nightclub scenes. No wonder Stacey got so many guests at such short notice; most people could only dream of attending such a party.

The dollar store decorations she’d bought on a whim seemed pretty lame right about then, so she ended up stashing them in a random broom closet. Upon closing the door she nearly collided with an unfamiliar twenty-something drunk off her ass and stumbling for the closest bathroom. After pointing the stranger in the right direction, Whitley secured herself a spot more or less out of the way.

Big parties weren’t really her scene. The lights, the music, the people… it was all so overwhelming. All Whitley wanted at this point was a shot of vodka and to hide out in Stacey’s room, a place strictly off-limits to guests. Maybe after checking in with-

“Peter,” the verbal slip got lost in the party music, but she could see him clear as day. Beautiful blonde hair and bright blue eyes, looking like a damn fine model chatting with guests at the end of the hall where the first floor opened into a massive living room. Whitley’s hands grew clammy almost instantly. Swallowing, she stepped bravely towards him - only to bolt into the nearest side room once his head swiveled in her direction. Whitley let out a long exhale.

She could try to enjoy the party for a little bit. Probably.

But first, vodka.
 

Fox of Hearts

Call me MsNoMer

“The path from the gate to the garden isn’t paved. We would leave an obvious trail …” Mori shrugged. “I figured walking among the grass would be better. The lawn is overgrown. But whatever. You guys do what you think is best.”

“Soooo Jorie, where’s Mr. Puck? He wouldn’t want to miss this adventure.” She dug her hands into her pockets and began stepping away from the rest.

What else was there to say? “Hello” seemed a bit unnecessary at this point. She nodded without really paying attention to the ongoing side chatter. Her mind focused on the house ahead. She was first to mount the steps and by-pass the yellow police tape.

A triumphant grin flashed across her face as she spotted the door was left ajar. This made things so much easier! The thought that someone else might be here crossed her mind, but it was given any consideration. She was sure they would have heard something by now if the person was still around.

“What are you waiting for? The door’s open. It’s gonna be easy peasy from here on. Just looking for clues. Letters … email passwords …… ebank password and that token ………….. maybe handphone? No, not that. They would have taken it.”

She pressed the flashlight widget on her handphone, dimmed it then held it above her head. Dust was everywhere. The sofa set was underneath dust covers. This latter observation made Mori quirk an eyebrow. Mr Brown lived here, didn’t he? He certainly had a weird way of getting comfortable.

“I expected either a neat freak or a slob. This is … it’s like he didn’t even make an effort to live in his home. Who the heck would cover their furniture with dust covers? The frickin’ TV cord is still wrapped up in plastic.”

She waved her friends over from where she stood in the corner of the sitting room. A large flat screen tv sat on the cabinet. The dust layer on it was thin. Two week’s worth at most. The date stamped on the abandoned box on the floor was May 14.

“Are you taking notes, Fred? New TV set not used. House not lived in. It’s like he didn’t expect to stay here long. That Russian spy theory on the Oakwoods reddit forum gains some credibility, eh? Not my favourite theory but … ” She tilted her head quickly when she heard metal hinges buckling.

BOOOM!

Dust rained down on the group. It mixed with the water drying on their skin to form a itchy, gunky batter. Mori sneezed lightly. Her hand immediately grabbing Anna’s. She squeezed it as a way of reassuring her shaking friend. Dark eyes turned to the source of the sound - the doorway leading to an even darker hallway.

“Kitchen,” she announced recalling the layout of the house from the blue prints they found in the library. “Heavy furniture,” she added as an afterthought. “Like a cupboard fell over. You heard the plates, right?”

Guess they weren’t alone after all!

Her eyes shone with excitement. After hugging Anna briefly and thumping Fred on his back, she started walking towards the doorway. She pressed a finger to her lips and motioned for them to follow. That was the last they saw before she turned off the light.
 

AkikoYukito

Cat Lady of Questionable Sanity
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I play both Passively and Aggressively. I love to come up with ideas and twists for a story and manipulate a situation, but I also love a partner who can come up with ideas. I have no problem yielding to my partners' ideas or mashing ideas together.
Favorite Genres
Action-adventure, adult characters, age difference, alternate universe fandom, anime, crime drama, cyberpunk, darker themes, drama, dubious consent, dystopia, eastern, edo, epic quest, fairy tale, fantasy, feudal, futuristic, grimdark, heian, high fantasy, low fantasy, magic, modern, modern fantasy, modern scifi, mutants, paranormal, post-apocalyptic, psychological, romance, scifi, supernatural, urban fantasy.
Genre You DON'T Like
Atompunk; battle systems; clockpunk; cosmic horror; creepypasta; dieselpunk; fandom: cartoons, games, movies, next-gen characters, prequel, real people, shows, spin-off; historical, mindfuck, slice of life, sports, steampunk, tabletop, zombies.

"Hehe~ Sorry. I just couldn't help myself." Jorie grinned, making her apology seem a lot less like an apology and more like an admission of guilt. Clearly, she took pleasure in their reactions. She stepped aside so they could enter, making sure not to close it completely. It would be easier to get out if they didn't have to fumble with the mechanism that kept the gate shut.

"Oh! That must be what I forgot! I was gonna text Mori. Oh, well~Too late, now." Another cheery smile as she jumped into a puddle on the path with a wet sloshing of her boots. "Whaddaya mean? I just reached over and opened it from the inside. You know I can't climb fences. I can't even walk in shoes with laces." After a few more purposeful splashes in puddles, Jorie caught up to them.

"Mr. Puck's right here." She pulled back her hood a bit to reveal the little doll sitting on her shoulder. "I could never deprive him of such an experience." Her tone was like that of a proud parent as she planted her fists on her hips, chin high. A subsequent giggle caused whatever seriousness there was to fizzle away. The club knew well, or ought to have known, that she never went anywhere without Mr. Puck, especially when there was the possibility of the paranormal. He was, after all, paranormal himself or so Jorie often insisted; as such, it just felt right that he ought to be included.

Ascending the porch, Jorie followed Mori past the police tape. From her pocket she pulled the large maglite she brought, turning the face cap to adjust the size and brightness of the beam. It was odd that the door was ajar when the house was still an active crime scene; however, this fact alone wasn't enough to deter the senior from this adventure. She shone the light on the couch, hidden under a dust cover and then the television, the cord of which was still wrapped, as Mori pointed them out. Curiouser and curiouser.

"Perhaps he didn't? Maybe this house was nothing more than a front, a facade? Perhaps Mr. Brown didn't really live here, or he never had any intentions of actually staying." Jorie thought aloud. It was purely conjecture, but it was something for the "journalism club" to publish. Who bought a new television to put in an old dusty house with covered furniture?

"Pfft! I think it's more likely he got involved in some federal crime like money laundering than Russian --" Jorie was cut off by, what in that silence seemed like, an explosion. A chill shot up her back and the hair on her arms stood on end. She didn't bother with the dust clinging to her wet raincoat but rubbed her nose to keep from sneezing. She started in the direction of the sound, turning off her flashlight as she got close to the kitchen door. Her hand tightened on the barrel, near the tail cap, preparing to weaponize the flashlight as a club if need be.


Jorie peeked around the door frame into the kitchen before following Mori through. There wasn't so much a need for a light, as there was dim light in the kitchen coming from the windows and the open refrigerator. In the dingy orange light she could could see liquid on the floor that could have been milk or juice as well as a number of broken eggs. The china cabinet was on the floor, bits of broken dishes scattered around it. The door of the microwave was ajar, the light inside having turned off; and one eye of the electric stove top was glowing red. There was no one there as far as she could see, but she did hear an odd noise. What was that? The flapping of wings, perhaps? Her eyes fell at last on the open window.

"If someone was here, I think they may be gone now. The window's open." Jorie whispered. "Watch out for the egg shells and the glass." If there was indeed still someone there, even if they were just outside that window, the last thing they wanted to do was give themselves away by stepping on something crunchy. That was always how it happened in horror movies.
 
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Fox of Spades

all gummed up inside
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both. It should be a give and take sort of thing.

I tend to be more aggressive if I'm GMing or if it's a 1x1.
Favorite Genres
Give me fantasy. Modern, medieval, urban, whimsical, dark, anything goes! If magic and strange wonderland-esque adventures are involved, I'll most likely hop on that train! I'm also a huge sucker for adventuring and questing. Steampunk and post-apocalyptic RPs are cool too, and slice of life (if executed well enough) is also something I enjoy.

I try to be open to different genres but those are pretty much my favorites.
Genre You DON'T Like
Romance-centric stories, it's okay as a side dish but it can't be the main course.

Nuri's scolding was a little surprising, but if anything, it conveyed concern.

Flynn grinned quietly to himself. His childhood friend looked and acted differently sure, but it was clear that he was still the same ol' thoughtful and protective Nuri. It was nostalgic in a way, and it brought Flynn back to days of tag by the outskirts of woods and sharing crayons in art class. He found himself wondering about what had happened in the sever year gap between his friend's departure and return.

"Don't worry, I wasn't planning to. It would be a hazard to other drivers." Flynn clamped a hand on Nuri's shoulder, gave it a friendly squeeze in appreciation. "Thanks for taking a look at the engine. I didn't hear anything, the van just kind of broke, but it's old and Walt's been talking about getting a new one for ages. The van's old as heck, but yeah, sauce is still good." Flynn grinned brightly. "Still the best pizza place in Oakwoods."

It was around then that Nuri offered to drive him.

Flynn arched up his eyebrows. "You sure you want 18 boxes of pizza in your car? It's going to smell like anchovies for days. Not that I'm complaining of course, thank you! Walt and the customer will appreciate it." Flynn didn't waste any time. He rushed to the back of the van and began unloading a rather surprising tower of pizza boxes. "Hey, we can't put it past Rex to steal all this pizza. He used to steal lunch from third graders. He left for college a year ago, but you never know."

It took quite a bit of effort on both their parts, but eventually, they managed to pack the pizza into Nuri's jeep.

Flynn ended up in the front seat with a terrifying amount of pizza boxes on his lap. "You sure you'll be able to drive okay with all these boxes in here? I was going to drop them off at Grenfall." He waited for a confirmation from Nuri, and when that was done went on to ask the question that had been on his mind since he first realized he'd come face-to-face with his childhood friend. "So how have you been?" It was asked in a friendly enough tone. Flynn was usually good at small talk and generally just being polite, but there was a stilted nature to their conversation. It fluctuated between playful and tense, and as much as Flynn tried, he didn't quite know how to get rid of the latter. There was definitely some guilt there. He and Nuri had been through the wringer together as kids - thanks to their crappy fathers - but after Nuri moved away, they just kind of slowly faded out. Of course, those feelings were far too serious for a reunion. "Must be weird being back in Oakwoods, huh?"




Everything was going just according to plan.

Aislyn swung an arm around Blake's shoulders before promptly pulling back so she could ruffle the girl's hair. "Don't worry about it, Blake. Honestly, most of this stuff flies over my head too." Aislyn grinned at Dan and Wyatt. "We can be confused together, besides, Dan loves answering questions. Trust me, he could talk about this stuff for daaaays. Plus, we've got Wyatt here too!"

"Yes, you really don't have to worry about anything, Blake," Dan answered with a friendly smile. "Aislyn's right, I enjoy questions."

"Mhm, sometimes, when we're watching movies he'll end up explaining everything instead. He gets really into it." A little annoying when she wanted to see for herself what was about to happen, but Dan was adorable when he was excited. Right now, it seemed like he'd forgotten about them the moment he started nerding out about different timelines with Wyatt. "See, it's already happening."

"Hm, you guys call me?" Dan asked.

"Nope!" Aislyn was now sitting beside Blake. "We're all good, carry on!"

Once both boys were distracted, Aislyn's smile faded just a little. "Guys, we'll be right back! Blake and I just need to talk to Ange about something." Aislyn took Blake by the hand, but instead of going toward Ange, they left for the hallway leading to the house's entrance. "Thanks for the help back there. The kitchen? Is it that bad? Have Friday and Nico made any progress?"


***


Once the girls had vanished, the smile on Dan's face disappeared too. He narrowed his eyes at Wyatt and grabbed his friend by the shoulders. "Aislyn roped you into distracting me, huh?" He sighed. "She asked me about math homework, Wyatt. It's summer vacation, and this is the most she's ever cared about Mr. Grantham's class. It's bad isn't it? They've broken all of mom's favorite pyrex containers and burnt the cabinets?"

His parents were going to kill him.

He was going to kill Nico.

Removing his hands from Wyatt's shoulders, Dan stood up and began making his way toward the kitchen. As much as he wanted to stay oblivious and watch movies with his friends, It was time to face the music. The sooner he found out how bad it was, the more time he'd have to come up with some explanation. Still, he was pretty sure he was going to be grounded for most of the summer.




Anna gulped at the sight of the yellow police tape - tampering with a crime scene was against the law. Maybe Freddy and Jorie didn't know that, but she was sure Mori knew. They'd spent hours poring over newspaper articles in their club room, and this was just the kind of information one ran into in pursuit of strange news stories. "Mori," Anna's voice quivered slightly as she spoke. "I don't think we should go in there." But just as soon as she'd said it, her friends - following after Mori - disappeared into the half-open door.

Flynn could never learn about this or she'd never hear the end of it.

Slowly, Anna followed after them. What awaited them was Mr. Brown's barely-lived-in house. She had to agree with Mori on one thing, this was strange. What she didn't agree on though was the Russian Spy theory. She spent a lot of time in the local library, and for as long as she could remember, Mr. Brown had always been a book-loving and friendly librarian. He helped her pick out books whenever she had trouble.

"He's not a Russian spy or a money launderer," Anna was quick to reply. "He was probably in the middle of renovating when he was taken."


Taken.

Freddy shuddered at the word. His friends made it sound like he'd been plucked off by a UFO or something. He looked to Mori and narrowed his eyes when she brought up taking notes. Considering they'd entered a crime scene, he'd feel a lot more comfortable not having any evidence of their break in with him. "Um, maybe we shouldn't touch anything here."

There was no use, when Mori and Jorie got together, they often ended up doing quite a bit of questionable things. Freddy jumped when a loud sound resonated throughout the living room. Yep, if they weren't going to get in trouble, they were going to die.

Anna squared her shoulders at the loud bang. Mori's attempt to soothe her did little to ward off the feeling of dread, and when the idea of them not being alone was brought up, she froze in place. "Guys? A-Are you really going in there?" Her question was answered when Mori hugged her then left to face whatever had made the sound. Of course, Jorie went too.

She and Freddy exchanged looks before deciding that, if a crazy murderer really was there, they didn't want to leave their friends alone. Quietly, they shuffled after the more daring duo. The next room was even more problematic.

"The stove was on," Freddy stated. "Someone was here." Gone was the fraidy cat who usually allowed Mori to push him around. Freddy wore a look of utter seriousness. "Guys. The police said Mr. Brown was probably kidnapped. I really thing we should leave. Someone was here... and, they could be dangerous." He said it all in a hushed yet panicky whisper. "They could still be here." He looked to Jorie then. "Even if they've left, they might come back. I don't really want to find out what they'll do to us if they're dangerous."

Anna was with Freddy on this. "Fred's right, Mori." She seemed to be pleading with her expression. "We might get into trouble too." The flapping of wings continued but Anna paid it no mind. It was possible the bird had caused some of the mess, but a bird couldn't turn on an oven.
 
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Fox of Hearts

Call me MsNoMer

A strangled cry shook the entire house. The echoes rang eerily long after the sound faded. Mori’s shoulder tensed. She took three shuddering breaths. Stupid bird! Living in this out of the way town had its drawbacks. Shadows seem that much darker and ravens so much creepier. She was surprised she wasn’t jumping out of her skin every other day. Seriously, darn birds!

“You know - ”

Her reassurance was cut short. There was a house-shaking slam from the second floor. Frantic footstep-like noises resounded down the rickety staircase in the living room. Mori’s mouth hung open as she watched the dim light from the windows in the living room shutter out. The door connecting the hallway to the living room (and the main door) was shut and from the sound of it locked. They needed an alternate exit.

“We should try the window,” she said firmly.

There were two other options. The door they used to enter the kitchen led back into the hallway. From there, they could only climb the rickety staircase to the second and third floors. The other door led to a storage room. The storage room was filled with imperishable goods. In the center of the room was a trap door that most likely led to the wine cellar. She recalled a dumbwaiter lift in the floor plans. It connected the cellar to the kitchen, the second storey and the third storey. The lift was big enough to ferry a trolley loaded with food and two or three servants. She wasn’t sure if it was sealed.

Mori couldn’t help thinking of Five Nights at Freddy’s and that deterred her from approaching the basement. A sharp cracking-noise later, she was at the sink in front of the window. She pressed her sweaty palms against the cool metal surface. Her leg was lifting off the ground when ….

“Argh!”

Her startled yell barely masked the sound of breaking egg shells as she hit the floor. A large shadowy figure loomed right outside the kitchen window. It seemed as if the house was playing tricks on them - at one moment the strange thudding would come from outside and then from the second floor . Mori’s throat felt dry. Thank Mother Mary it’s not Slender Man!

No it was 90%-certainly human and that made it so much worst. Humans were dangerous. They had guns and a brain. The size of the brain, while usually important, didn’t matter in this current situation. Any idiot can fire a gun and kill someone.

The half-Irish girl wondered if their luck was finally running out. She refused to believe it! There had to be someone. She scrambled to her feet and dashed over to the knife rack. She drew out the chopper, tossed it onto the floor near her friends then drew out a carving knife. She gripped the handle like a sword and held it in front of her. No shots had been fired yet. Good. Whoever was there might not have a gun.

“Don’t come in!” She threatened. “We have knives and … and a gun! Yeah! We won’t hesitate to shoot you.”

Sadly, only the knives were real. Their other weapons were Mr. Puck, Jorie’s flashlight, their handphones and their backpacks. Maybe Jorie wouldn’t mind chucking Mr Puck and the flashlight at the man? It should work as well as a flashbang. Was that what Fred called those bomb-y things? They just need a chance to stun that person and get him in the leg. Hold him hostage to scare his friend off.

“W-we’ll call 911 on you. The police will be here.”

Like in two hours. Gotta love the Oakwoods community. The police headquarters was all the way in Grenfall. All they had here was the tiniest outpost imaginable with a skeleton crew. Yeah, gotta love Oakwoods. It held the title for the safest community in the state since time immemorial. Tonight’s a … statistical anomaly?

Whatever was inside the house with them seemed undeterred and the loud banging-sound continued to echo throughout the second floor. Mori saw the window latch darkening from the outside. The window frame shuddered violently. Mori realised her plan was backfiring spectacularly. She was so wrong earlier. Threatening a stranger didn’t seem like the smartest thing to do. Not when they weren’t a real threat.

“What’s the minimum sentence for self defence?” she asked suddenly. “I kinda think I should try stabbing him in his throat. Or … you try, Fred! You’re taller.”
 

Cartoonicat

Future Crazy Cat Lady
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Fine doing both (: I tend to be a little aggressive with my playing style if given free-reign, though.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Scifi, Action, Romance, LGBT, Horror, Mystery, Paranormal. I'm sure there are more, I'm just too lazy to look everything up.
Genre You DON'T Like
Modern/Slice of Life (some exceptions to this), Furry. Might be more? Can't think of them, though. Run it by me and we'll talk.
Collab between Fox of Hearts Fox of Hearts and Cartoonicat Cartoonicat

177516

“Don’t you think this would bring him here faster?” Ange’s crisp voice cut through the music coming from Nico’s laptop. “I mean seriously! You promised to think of a distraction not make a big mess!”

Her hand cuffed the back of her boyfriend’s curly head. He jerked his hands forward to stop a nose-to-screen collision. “Ange! Like chill! It’s fineeeee. A’s distracting him. She’s also his girlfriend. It works out. You’ll see! That and this is the way I usually keep Zebby distracted when I need to.”

“Yeah, I see alright. He’s headed this way,” came Ange’s sarcastic voice. Her charcoal eyebrow quirked up to emphasize her point. A look Wyatt was familiar with. Danger! Run while you can! “Sometimes, I feel Zeppelin is older than you.”

“Crap!” That was Nico as he slammed his laptop shut and hid the video montage he was editing from view. He forgot to pause the music but that was the least of his worries. He waved wildly in Friday’s direction.

Friday’s blue eyes went round. Uh-oh! A failed her mission. Dan was coming! The chirpy boy dropped the cheese cubes he was skewering with toothpicks. He dashed to the door blurting out hurried excuses for every foot he stepped on.

“D-Dan!” he flailed. “Dan! Dan! Dan!”

The shorter than normal high school junior danced about blocking Dan’s path. So far, his years on the basketball court were paying off. Dan couldn’t break through his defense. Their footsying devolved into this weird game of tag. Dan couldn’t catch hold of the jumping cricket long enough to push past him.

“Dan!” Friday yelled for the umpteenth time.

That did the trick! Dan was annoyed enough to finally give him a very terse “Yes Friday?” Friday tittered nervously. He kinda forgot how serious the newly appointed track co-captain could get. A reason he voted for Nico as captain instead.

“Teach me how to Grab Food. Pleeease?” he paused to give Dan his most pitiful puppy stare. “Alicia told me to order tacos and… and I don’t know how to.” Friday pouted. “The app keeps telling to check my location settings. Google didn’t help. Oh, Wyatt! Wyatt! Dan’s trying to help me. Come see?”

Roping in more people? Check! Friday couldn’t help feeling a little pleased with himself. He rubbed the back of his head nervously and tittered more. He thought it was a good plan. Was it really? He couldn’t help searching for A. Her nod of approval would be good right about now.

He bounced at twice the rhythm he did earlier. He was just so nervous. Nico kept saying to stall more. Operation Surprise Dan was meeting all sorts of hiccoughs. Like, for example, Blake might or might not have heard about it from A. He told Whit about it and she promised to tell Wyatt. He was really worried she’d forget again. Like that time she forgot to tell Wyatt that they were going to the Grenfall Comic-Con two days earlier.

Friday pressed his pink lips together. As he rocked back and forth on top of all the bouncing, his little body turned into an oscillation of red, blue and yellow. He really wanted to ask Wyatt if he knew, but he couldn’t with Dan standing beside him.

Catching Wyatt’s eye, Friday waved his arms in exaggerated circles. His hands flapped around as he mouthed “the plan” repeatedly. It was hard to tell at this point if Wyatt noticed the goldfish mouthing over Friday’s windmilling arms.


Wyatt's brows lifted as, again, Dan whirled around and grabbed his shoulders. "Uhh..." He listened to Dan's theory, his accusation, his hypothesis of the correct variety. Yeah, Aislyn has roped Wyatt into playing the diversion. Wyatt'd be lying if he knew why; the kitchen wasn't that bad and he'd taken care of most of the dirty dishes already. Mentioning pyrex containers and burnt cabinets had Wyatt reeling; How could high schoolers cause that much damage? Even Nico and Friday, in all of their hyperactiveness, weren't that clumsy.

Reaching out, Wyatt tried to stop him: "I wouldn't- Erm, Dan they didn't-" Flailing arms and a bouncing mop of red hair caught his eye, however, and instead of focus on Dan, he let his sleeve slip through his fingers.

Wyatt blinked once, twice, a third time. Slowly, trying to understand what Friday was trying to accomplish by waving his arms and mouthing nonsense at the edge of the room. He looked behind him, a thought occurring; Was Friday talking to him? Wyatt saw nobody else nearby, so… Friday was probably talking to him.

Probably.

Hopefully not, because Wyatt had no idea what was going on.

His phone buzzed from his front pocket, likely Peter, a saving grace. "I, uh... wait there? Erm, I have to check my phone- wait, no, make a call. Just... the kitchen is fine." Sort of. It was a little dirty. "Be right back." He knew he was supposed to stop Dan from entering the kitchen, but Wyatt honestly didn't see why; it wasn't a wreck like Dan anticipated, so shouldn't the others reassure him? Unless there was something else in the works... but Wyatt hadn't been told anything, so that probably wasn't the case. Right? Brushing off the idea, Wyatt headed over to Friday.

Yet, despite his confidence he hadn't been left out, Wyatt lowered his voice just in case: “What are you doing?”

177516

“Doing?” Friday blurted. His tiny hands clapped then plunged down. He pulled them left to right and back again. Nervous energy radiated from him more than ever. He chittered like the small bug he was. He took two deep breaths. His eyes widened dramatically. “You don’t know? The plan?” He quizzed.

Red eyebrows rose in confusion when he didn’t see that spark of recognition in Wyatt’s face. The sinking feeling in his stomach confirmed that this was Grenfell Comic-Con all over again. Friday gulped. Whit never told Wyatt they were going two days earlier. Wyatt found out and showed up with Peter during closing time. Dinner at Dae’s had never been so awkward.

“You know … the plan Whit might have told you about. Or not …” he chirped. In response, Wyatt frowned deeply.

Friday’s hands orbited his head again. He bounced on his feet hoping to get Blake’s attention. He might have caught a glimpse of her head in the hallway. He skipped sideways. When he stopped super close to the door, he looked like he was doing a series of distorted jumping jacks.

Relief flooded him when he noticed A’s red hair. “Blake! A! Blake! I mean …. A! A! As in, Aislyn and Blake! Not a Blake, but yeah.” He inhaled. “A! Did you tell Blake about “the plan”?” He chirped again. “I think Wyatt might not know!”

—————- ———— ————
Stacey's Party
15 Minutes Before Cyclone Friday…
To Whit:

20:00

Wyaaaatt’s here!!!!!!!!! Where are you???????

20:05
😋😂🤓😁🥳🎉:popcorntub:
Whit! Whit! 🐜
(Why am I Jiminy Cricket? D:<)

20:22
🐇🐰🐇🐰
(a few rabbit gifs)
(Rayman gif)
Whit!!!!!! Rayman! Rayman Mario?!

20:25
:( abandonerrrrrrr!!
😭😭😭 😭 😭 😭😭
Whit! 😢

20:26
I saved you your fav green ice pop :(((((
🐶
:ghost:

The spam finally ended. Whit’s phone vibrated for one last time and didn’t shudder again. Her friend on the other side of town seemed to have given up hope that they’d play Rayman and Pokémon Stadium tonight. Peace returned for a brief moment before Stace’s voice registered in Whitley’s ears.

“WHIT!” The mayor’s daughter burst into the room. Her pink off shoulder dress shimmering so brightly in the dim light that she positively glowed. The silver beads of her dangling earrings only made her more dizzying to look at. Stacey’s brilliant blue eyes locked onto Whit’s. Bangles jangled around her wrists as she raised a hand to snap several times in her dazed friend’s face.

"W-what? Sorry, I was just-" The Barnes twin looked flustered, borderline panicked, and would no doubt begin rambling nonsense if Stace didn't get her focused soon.

“Whit? Whit!” Stace called again. “I need your help. Like you won’t believe this! The chef messed up before leaving for the night. Like oh my god! I want to complain to Daddy so bad but this party isn’t supposed to be happening. Like God! Like why? How can that guy mess up so bad?”

Whit collected herself with a gasp. "He messed up the food!? What are we going to do-"

She was practically shaking Whitley agitatedly. “I asked for amazing food and you know what! He prepared the same food he does for Daddy’s boring parties. Caviar on crackers, deviled eggs, a cheese platter …. seared bite-sized foie gras, assorted cold cuts, fresh mozzarella balls, herb butter, homemade bread and… assorted finger sandwiches! Punch in a crystal bowl! I guess the pair of ice swans was a nice touch! BUT Whit! What kind of high school party serves food like that!? Don’t get me started on the floral decorations! Urgh!”

"Umm… well, maybe it's not that ba-"

The girl finally let go. Jasmine and cherry filled the air as her perfume chased away the smell of polished wood. Every step she took was followed by the clicking of silver stilettos or the jangling of the bangles around her wrists. There was so much sound as she was pacing around.

“Gina, like freaking Gina, she doesn’t get what’s wrong! I feel like you are the only one who isn’t an idiot.” Stacey stopped long enough to catch her breath. A skill that Peter claimed (secretly to Whit one day) won his sister far too many debates. He said that Stace simply left opponents slack-jawed after her verbal barrage.

Whitley didn't finish her sentence; rather, changed course directly. "O-Oh. Yeah, umm," she looked quizzical, slightly rattled. "Umm, uhh… Oh! What if we go get our own food and-" Her mouth snapped shut, eyes wide and staring at something behind Stacey.

Speaking of Peter, a familiar silhouette had appeared in the doorway. The youngest Meyer hesitated visibly on the threshold when he caught sight of his older twin ranting to Whitley. His look of concern switched back to his usual aloof mask. He dug his hands into his pockets and sauntered in.

“Rex was looking for you,” he drawled. He tried not to look too worried knowing that would set his sister off again. “He said the champagne and wine would be okay for now. Father has some hard liquor we could replace easily.”

He shrugged. “Rex told me to go Grenfall. Grab beer and food we can cook on the grill. Some chips.”

“That’s brilliant! Whitley can go with you."

"I can?"

"She knows what to buy like always. Remember how successful our picnic was? That was all her. God! Daddy needs to fire this guy. He was the one who made wagyu steak, country sausages and pies for a picnic. Like what even! He never thought of potato salad, chicken wings, ribs, cakes, and sandwiches.”

Stace began massaging her temples. She could see why Daddy said people were idiots. She hated to sound snobbish but that’s the reason they remained poor. They were too stupid to see what’s so obvious!

“It’s gonna be fine. You know people can’t tell the difference once they know it’s alcohol.” He rolled his eyes. “Rex says they just want to get high.”

“You’re so right! Gosh, Peter! I don’t know what to do without you, baby brother!”

She tiptoed and ruffled his hair. Ignoring the grimace on her twin’s face, she gave him a crushing hug before returning to her usual bubbly self. She put her arm around a very tense Whitley and began dragging the girl towards the door.

“Now Whit, you and Peter have to take my new sports car for a test run. Daddy got it custom made just for me because I told him how I absolutely need a car the same shade as my new one-of-a-kind Hermes handbag. The one Mommy bought from Paris. That’s why I insisted you take my other Hermes bag. It wasn’t as exclusive, you know, and it was from this year’s spring collection. Sorry about that.”

"Oh, it's okay," Whit blinked out of her stupor and gestured to the Hermes handbag she'd brought to the party. "It pairs well with the top you gave me."

Stacey giggled happily. “My car is like the hottest color this summer. And …” she whispered into Whit’s ears. “I told you the shade looks good with you too. Peter’s so gonna notice.” Whit's face erupted in a blushing mess, composure horribly lost.

Pulling away, she gave the Barnes girl twin a sly wink. Stace waved to the people they passed. Ever the charming hostess, she would stop and laugh at the lamest of jokes. There were no signs of the meltdown barely ten minutes ago. It was almost bipolar!

Peter looked bored as he trailed behind the girls. He’d acknowledge anyone calling his name but most were snubbed. He wasn’t in a very good mood today. The main reason being his older brother. He glared at Rex as they crossed the saloon. The college boy was leaning against the pool table ignoring Peter like always. Peter squared his shoulders and looked away.

He was glad Wyatt gave him a semi-plausible excuse to give Stace. He was even happier the chef “messed up”. No one had to know he told the man what to prepare tonight. The poor guy was on the verge of a nervous breakdown that afternoon thanks to his sister.


Oh God. Oh no, no, no, no, no. Whitley was not prepared to be stuck in a super expensive sports car with the hottest guy in school. Well, the hottest guy in her opinion. Unable to resist, she peeked over her shoulder as Stacey dragged her through the house.

Wow, he was cute. Maybe riding in a car with him wouldn't be that bad. The pair might actually get to have a Moment; you know, the types talked about in teen magazines that indicate mutual feelings. "Wonderful," she said, out loud, to no one. Or Peter, because they'd made eye contact without her realizing - but how could she not get lost in those pretty blue eyes? - and at this proximity, he could probably hear her. Whitley choked on her words and turned her head so fast whiplash wouldn't be surprising.

"SO UM STACE," Whit's voice shot up several pitches, "I AM GONNA- ERM- Er…" She cleared her throat, pulling away from Stace's grasp with feigned nonchalance. A grace she didn't have much of off the field. "We're gonna go, then! I'll text you when we're heading back!"

Flustered, Whit made a bee-line for the front door… and snatched a peppermint from a candy bowl along the way. You know, just in case.

“Always so eager to please,” Stacey commented. She inspected the painted fingernails of her right hand nonchalantly. “I like it when she has ideas of her own. It’s not very often. Gina says more even if it’s silly most of the time. People always asked why Whit. I mean why not? I need someone with a brain to talk to.”

She shrugged. “It’s so hard to find someone smart, useful and presentable. Flynn and fake Meyers would have made good friends. I heard Flynn’s Daddy is actually rich and successful. Daddy said the man’s old money like us. Fake Meyers is not. That’s why he’s a fake.” She snickered.

Continuing with her musings, Stace stepped in front of Peter and placed her head on his shoulder. She needed to tiptoe but she didn’t mind. “I don’t understand Flynn. We tried so hard to make friends with him. I even had Rex say sorry. He still chose that slutty Aislyn and that dumb orphan kid over us! So much loyalty! He’s just so weird. Like if it were me, child me would have chosen his dad over his mom. She’s not as … how do you say this? Not as pedigreed. Her salary is middle-class at best.”

“Making friends doesn’t need to be so hard,” Peter replied. He grabbed a handful of mints figuring that Whit must like them. He never understood why girls had such a strange fascination with sugar. Guys were a lot easier to understand. “I really think we should hang around with other people too. There’s nothing wrong being “middle class”. You keep talking about it as if it’s a bad thing.”

“Well, baby bro, it’s better to be selective. Daddy tolerates you being friends with Wyatt, but you should hang out with Rex’s friends more. It’s awkward but it’s either his friends or boys much younger than you. I know you don’t enjoy hanging around my female friends.”

Peter wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Rex can go to hell.”

“You know you love him. He’s our big brother,” Stacey insisted. Her arms snaked around Peter’s. “Families stick together. No one cares about you more than we do.”

“Right,” came a huffy reply.
 
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Xyvian

Moving Shadow
Roleplay Invitations
One on One Roleplays, Private Convo Roleplays
Posting Speed
Speed of Light, Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day
Writing Levels
Elementary, Intermediate, Adept
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Both
Favorite Genres
Fantasy

Wyatt made a low key excuse and left - Blake could tell by the way he checked his phone, whilst saying he needed to check it, before clarifying he needed to make a call. Or maybe it was the fact that an energetic ball of hyperactivity named Friday was waving his arms from afar, beckoning for Wyatt to leave the situation. Blake was confused. But before Dan could turn around and address the weirdness of the situation, the blue-haired girl was dragged off by her childhood friend, with a brief but reasonable excuse that they needed to speak to Ange about something. And like always, Blake let herself be carted off - It had become a thing within their social circle, especially with Aislyn, to simply move her to where they needed her to be. Not that she minded.

"Um..." Had they made any progress? Well if you could call it progress. "Well, it was a bit of a chaotic mess but what else would you expect? But... I'd say they were doing well. Kind of. I still feel kind of mean, l-like... We're making Dan think he's going to be in a lot of trouble... Why?" Blake cocked her head to one side slightly, as she looked even more confused. "I don't... quite get it. Why do we make him think he's in trouble before we surprise him?" Of course, before Aislyn could respond, the small bundle of never-ending energy himself appeared, practically bouncing off the walls with Wyatt in tow.

"I... I know what's going on! ... Barely..." The neurotic girl folded her arms though blushed in embarrassment. It was only upon stumbling into the kitchen almost immediately and back pedaling out earlier that she had been reminded of the 'plan' so to speak. A plan she didn't fully get. But none the less, she would help. She noted Wyatt's frown and alongside Friday's chatter that Wyatt might not know, she got that at the very least, she wasn't the only one completely in the dark.

"Wyatt, T-There's a surprise... For Dan," She whispered, quietly so that if someone were lurking, they weren't going to hear it over Friday's energetic bouncing and chirps. However, she soon paused as a thought occurred, and she also frowned. "Wait... If we're all here... Whose stopping Dan from walking into the kitchen?" Blake's eyes widened and looked around the group. "W-What if he's headed to the kitchen now?! He already seemed so suspicious of what was happening! We messed up didn't we? Q-Quick, we should go find him! No wait, better, we should head to the kitchen and stop him if he gets there!" The panic was real - The plan was failing and it was partially her fault for not helping to stop Dan move towards the kitchen! Though Aislyn brought her over here first, then Friday showed up with Wyatt so technically-- No, this wasn't the time to think about that. "M-Maybe if we hurry, we can get there first..."
 
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