The Second Chancers' Brigade

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Dusty Trails

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This is gonna be an urban fantasy roleplay (maybe with hints of horror?) surrounding the exploits of a group of dead people who were offered a deal at their moment of death: just die and go onto the Underworld, or let a Geist (a long-dead ghost that's come to represent more abstract ideas and concepts related to their death rather than an individual) share their body and keep on living? Now you've the ability to see ghosts, spooky powers, a ghostly passenger in your head, and a new job: helping the dead pass on... One way or another. Now not everybody who takes this offer does this, but our particular crew will be. Think something like Ghostbusters, but we all have personal quasi-ghost sidekick and we don't have to worry about crossing the streams. And we don't capture ghosts either, just send them to the Underworld... Okay, not that much like Ghostbusters.

Though I'm not going to completely base this off Geist, I'm using a lot of the ideas and terminology from Geist: The Sin Eaters.
For a better idea of what's going on and what sort of stuff you can do read this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geist:_The_Sin-Eaters

A few questions you don't have to directly answer, but should definitely consider: How did you die (If you died in a horrible gruesome way you aren't coming back, even with all the ghostly shenanigans)? How about your Geist? How are your deaths similar or related? What does your Geist crave or miss most from life? How does your character view life, death, and their own resurrection? Is your life still mostly the same, or did your death change everything? What aspect of your death stood out and might reflect your powers (think fire, machines, disease, nature, etc.)?

Iris sat in one of the windows of her apartment, smoking a cigarette as she looked out onto the street below. Today she was supposed to meet somebody else like her, and honestly she was nervous. It wasn't everyday that somebody came back from the dead, and it wasn't everyday that you found out that there were other who had. Long nights of browsing weird forums on the internet and she'd found a few people who claimed to be an expert on this kind of stuff. Ghosts and stuff. Life after death. Just another crazy, of course. She had a feeling though that this would be real.

She blew strands of her short, brown hair out of her face and swung her legs around and stood up on the ground. She walked towards the couch in the middle of her living room and left the cigarette on an ashtray on a side-table and picked up her book bag. She opened it to make sure she had all her things with her and then spun on her heel to head out the door, making sure to grab her hoodie on the way out. She walked out into the cold, evening air and locked the door behind her. As she walked to her car, another pair of footsteps fell in line with her. She looked up at the figure who now shared a physical body with her: a tall, faceless figure clad in a long black coat and a wide brimmed hat. The Gambler, as he called himself the few times he'd actually talked. He was silent as they walked, which Iris always found a little unsettling. Though it wasn't as bad as when he talked.

Iris settled into her car and the Gambler did the same, but instead of opening it he just kind of melted through the door. She drove through the city, her radio pumping music into the interior of the car. After a good ten minutes of driving silently, she pulled up next to a graveyard towards the edge of town and got out. Now she just had to wait.
 
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