The Stranger

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Lynnae, Dec 1, 2012.

  1. Rose Luna shivered as she fumbled with her house keys, finally getting it to turn in her slippery hands and letting her inside. She sighed a breath of relief as she closed the door, and started to wring her hair;soaking wet from the pouring rain outside. 
    "Honey, I'm home!" she called out, as if she'd ever get a reply from her cat, Mouse , who was laying carelessly on her couch. With a small smile, she shrugged off her coat and trudged her way up to change into her comfy and completely dry gown and slippers.   
    Finally dressed, she grabbed a blanket off of her bed and started to walk downstairs, though she couldn't help but look out the window to the the thousands of raindrops, and the strong wind that carried it along right outside.

     "What a horrid day..." she murmured. She continued down the steps and plopped down on the couch, grabbing her blanket and wrapping it around herself snuggly, looking around for a familiar grayish looking blur. "Mouse! Come here. Up!" she called out. Her cat Gladly did as he was told, and took a seat next to her. " have it so easy being a cat. Never having to worry about work..and bills, and, not being able to go out and having to talk to your cat all night!" she said. He stared blankly at her and meowed as if replying back to her. She laughed a bit, and stared outside as her window lit up, followed by a loud crash of thunder. Shaking her head she laid back, closing her eyes and running her hand through her bright red hair, thinking about what she'd do on as soon as the storm let up, but before she knew it, she'd fallen into a deep sleep.***

     Rose gasped as she suddenly woke up with a start. She was freezing and felt as if her feet had been replaced by popsicles. She sighed heavily and rubbed her eyes, certain that it wasn't the reason she'd woken up. Grabbing her blanket, she got up and started toward the stairs, ready to call it a night. As she passed the window, she saw everything was completely covered in snow. Thousands of tiny snowflakes were pelting against her windows. She yawned and continued up the steps when she heard a faint knock on the door. 
    "Probably just my nerves..." she thought. Halfway up the long steps, she hear it again, louder this time. Her gray eyes flared towards the door, she cautiously neared it, as Her cat bolted off the couch and hissed towards the entrance. Turning the lock and opening the door a bit, a gust of cold wind came at her, immediately stinging her cheeks. Looking up, she saw what looked like a man almost completely covered in snow. The hoodie of his jacket covering his eyes and half his nose, the only thing she could see were his lips, which had turned completely blue. Without even letting him say a single word, she acted on impulse.. "Oh my, come inside." she said, grabbing his right arm and pulling him in, quickly shutting the door. Without hesittating, she picked up her blanket from the stairs and wrapped it around his shoulders then moving to start get the fire going I'n the fireplace.

    "Just take a seat in front of the fire and try to warm up.." she said heading to her kitchen and starting to brew water for tea. "What the hell are you doing, Rose? You just let a random stranger into your home? Youve officially lost it. But then again, you wouldn't have sent him back out on the streets would you?" she contemplated this as she thought of how this stranger must be holding up. 
  2. He woke up face down in the snow, twin pools of blood around him. Trying to push himself up, a great pain emanated from his arms and he fell back down into the snow. Gritting his teeth, he tried again, first pushing himself to his knees, then to his feet. Looking over himself, trying to find out why he kept feeling pain and where the blood came from, he found that he had cuts up and down his arms, some of them new and bleeding, others old scars, some small and shallow, others large and deep. The deeper ones were the ones he was worried about.

    Taking note of them, he continued his look-over of himself, finding normal appearances, for the most part. But what was normal...? He couldn't remember. He just found that he knew that a jacket and jeans were pretty normal. However, he knew that the cuts and scars definitely weren't. Thinking more on it, he found he couldn't remember anything at all, just his name, which was Farran. No last name, for some reason.

    Turning his gaze around him, he found that he was in a forest of some sort, and had been lying near a tree's roots. He could see a few dark houses through the trees, and made his way towards them, his jacket doing nothing to keep the cold away. Shivering, he steps through the snow, the substance seeping through his shoes and socks and onto his feet, which were feeling just the slightest bit numb.

    One of the houses he passed had a light on in the front room, and he walked through the snow-covered lawn, the wind threatening to push his hood off his face, nearly tripping over a tree root that was hidden by the snow. Feeling like he was about to keep over, his first knock on the door was nothing more than a tap. Trying again, Farran knocked harder, though it wasn't by much.

    As the door opened, and he was taken inside, Farran's lips would have formed a wide grin, if he hadn't been so cold. The warmth of the house was almost overwhelming and painful, but he was thankful for it. Still, he was amazed by how trusting the woman who had opened the door was. His fingers too stiff to grasp the blanket on his shoulders to pull it around himself tighter, he stood there as the woman left, looking around the room.

    Catching sight of his face in a mirror hanging in the hallway, he was taken aback as he brushed away his relatively long dark hair. Entirely covering his right eye was a tattoo of a pentagram, all intricate symbols and words that meant nothing to him. It was a shade of dark red, and he wondered to himself, letting the blanket fall off his shoulders, Am I a...a Satanist?

    Quickly pushing his hair back over his eye, not wanting the woman to see it, knowing what it might mean, he turned back towards the rest of the house, feeling some of the feeling coming back to him.
  3. Finally seeing the water boiling, she moved deftly around the kitchen, pouring the water into a simple coffee mug and placing it onto a plate. Though she didn't know if the guy in her living room could stand the taste of tea or not, Rose knew she couldn't, it would surely help him either way.

    It wasn't until she picked up the plate and started to walk it over to the living room when she walked past a window, finally noticing her appearance. Her usually straight hair was all over the place, and a faint hint of her eyeliner smudged under her eyes. She didn't have to think twice about how she must look with the slippers on. Sighing heavily, she set the plate with the tea on a small table nearby and with her thumb, tried to enhance her appearance just a bit by attempting to remove the eyeliner marks.

    Returning to the room, she now had a better view of the stranger that she had just randomly pulled into her home. She was relieved to see that though not much had changed, he was looking better than he was before she rushed to the kitchen. Seeing the blanket now on the floor, she figured he'd gotten a lot warmer and didn't need it.

    "This tea should do good for your throat..." 
    Placing the tea on the coffee table that stood in the middle of the room, she folded her arms, pressing them closely against her to keep them warm. 
    Nothing of this sort had ever happened to her. Now that she lived alone, she never wouldve dreamed of it. Yet there she was. Of course it wasn't on the nicest terms, but he was still considered a guest.

    She sat on rocking chair nearby and folded her legs in as her cat chose that precise moment to jump on her lap, staring just as curiously as she was. Thinking it was awkward enough for him to be I'n someone else's home, she looked down at the floor. Though, to her, the pieces wouldn't fit. Would anyone really just throw a simple jacket on and walk outside? She had no clue on how long he might've been out there, And why he was out there at this time of year, let alone on this day was way beyond her understanding. Almost no one ever came up to the mountain, since it seemed to be hidden, and right next to the woods. She herself couldn't remember how she'd come to live here in the first place, but now wasn't the time to figure out. 

    She sighed softly and bit her lip, puzzled. What to say to someone who you knew nothing about? "Hey how's it goin'" surely wouldn't cut it.

    "I-is everything ok? I mean, if you need anything.... Feel free to take a seat?" she shrugged as she motioned with her head to the couch nearby, figuring he might as well take a seat. From the strong whistle of the wind outside, she could tell they'd be there for quite a while,
  4. Farran nodded his head in thanks to her tea, though his lips felt too chapped for him to say anything. Picking up the glass, he cracked his lips to take a sip, finding it helping him. He was about to set down the glass, but as his fingers moved, he found that they had left deep red stains, and recoiled, figuring it was from the blood.

    Accepting her offer at taking a seat, he sits down, his hands shaking the glass. He was feeling better, not as if he would fall over anymore. Resisting the urge to brush back his hair, even though it itched worse than anything. He couldn't let her see the tattoo, if she did, she might send him away, and he couldn't go back out there, not knowing who he was, let alone where he was.

    At her question, he parted his lips, and said, "...I-I don't know. I can't remember anything...." He wasn't sure how he felt from telling her that he didn't remember anything of who he was, but it left an odd feeling in his stomach. Involuntarily wincing at the pain of the cuts, he uses he free hand to pull down his jacket's sleeve further, not wanting her to catch a glimpse of them. If she did, she could either bandage them, or send him away. He didn't want to be forced away, not out intothat storm.

    Feeling his stomach growl in hunger, he bites the inside of his cheek, trying to ignore it.

    Honestly, he thought to himself, what was he supposed to say to the woman? Hey, how are you? That certainly wouldn't be appropriate, would it? Looking down at his sleeves, he sees the blood starting to show through them, and he shuffled nervously, hoping she wouldn't notice.
  5. Rose felt her eyes widen and she shifted in her seat. She honestly didn't know how to react, never having dealt with a person who lost their memory. Was it possible to lose it if temperature were too low? She had no idea, and never thought it would be convenient to know. 

    Running a nervous hand through her red hair, she bit her lip, not knowing what to say or do for the young man In front of her. Now she definitely wouldn't send him back out there again, but instead was relieved that he'd chosen to try her house. She didn't want to think about what would have happened otherwise. 

    Now contemplating it, she wouldn't mind him staying, even for possibly the night. Storms there had a rep for lasting a few days. 
    But maybe he wasn't the type that took such offers. She wouldn't risk it, and the only time she'd offer was if he himself said that he wanted to leave.
    "Well..." Rose rubbed the back of her neck and stood up once again. "Maybe if you get warmer, it'll all come back to you." 
    As she started to walk, she threw two more logs of wood into the fireplace, and continued to the kitchen, refilling his mug. 

    "Careful, it's still pretty..." she trailed off seeing a red substance seeping through the sleeves of his jacket. 
    "Hot! I meant to say that it's hot..." she finished. She set down on the table next to the plate for him to refill it as much as he wanted, though now she couldn't stop looking at his arms.
    "I'm sorry but is that...."
  6. Farran looked away guiltily as she noticed the blood, the red discoloring the green fabric of his jacket. In the back of his mind, he thought, It's gonna stain now... Wondering why he was concerned about the condition of his jacket and not the fact that he was bleeding, he said, "Um...yes...I've...I'm not sure how it happened, but I've quite a few cuts on my arms...If it wouldn't be too much of a trouble, could you please give me bandages to stop the bleeding...?" He was finding it easier to speak now, and with that, Farran started rolling up the sleeves of his jacket, exposing the wounds.

    They looked worse than earlier, some of the cuts looking like they might be infected, others having dried blood circling them, with fresh blood covering it. Wincing at the sight, he shows her the cuts on both sides of his arms.

    "Uh...I know what this might look like, but...." he trails off, trying to find the right words, "...I didn't do this to myself, I'm pretty sure." Though he wasn't certain about those words, he prayed that they were true. His words were carefully chosen. He had been hoping that she would simply give him the bandages, so he could use them himself, and keep her at a distance so she wouldn't see the tattoo, but he was unsure of how she would respond.
  7. Nyx DeLancey had been closely watching the house for hours while she sat at one of the branches of a pine tree. Being an eleven-year-old girl, she need not have to worry about the branch breaking. When she saw the hooded man enter the woman's household, she absent-mindedly clutched the little boxed chest secured in her inner cloak's pocket.

    Just as it said, she thought and recounted the words imprinted on the delicate tiny scroll contained in the little chest.

    "You will see Adam and Eve in the Moon's abode. It is your duty to kill them."

    And just below that message contained a complete address, date and time.

    The two-centuries-old box had been passed down to many DeLancey generations, but knowledge of its origins has long been forgotten. All the DeLanceys ever knew was that the fate of the world hung in the balance.

    Nyx became the only DeLancey left to carry the burden of the box when her grandmother died of old age a year before. It was she who handed her the little box and explained just vaguely about its importance.

    She had located the indicated address months ago, and staked the house for weeks after that. At first, she became doubtful of the message for Rose Luna, the owner of the address and obviously who the message referred to as Eve, had no husband, no lover, save for her cat. But she waited patiently until the indicated date and time:

    "Three hours past midnight on the winter solstice, year of the dragon."

    Fifteen minutes before the said time, a stranger, surely Adam, arrived.

    Just as it said, Nyx repeated. Now, she looked at her pocket watch, counting the seconds to her destined duty. Five, four, three, two, one...She snapped the pocket watch shut, placed it back in her cloak pocket and jumped down the branch where the snow softened the impact of her feet. She took a deep breath, and suddenly an image of a younger self was strapped on the seat of a roller coaster for the first and last time.

    I'm about to kill two strangers without any apparent reason, she thought and part of her wanted to run away when another voice reminded her, this is for the DeLancey honor and the fate of the world.

    With that, Nyx took a clump of snow in her hands and blew them away towards the Moon's abode. But unlike ordinary snow, the snowflakes grew a thousand times in size and became sharper and more frigid, a form that could pierce skin and bone. Her breath pushed the snowflakes to an increasing velocity to match a gunshot. In less than a second, the front windows of the house were broken, but the snowflakes had failed to draw blood and instead, were stuck in wooden walls.