Color Games OOC

[Tytus]

IC
[Fantasy]

COLOR GAMES

The Premise:

Sunlight shines dankly across the city as morning lengthens, rays of golden sun arcing through clouds of cotton. The day is much too familiar, the same chore everyday proves to be. Mustard colored taxis ride through the crowded streets, stopping for men in suits, ignoring men in anything but. A college sits itself at the end of a road marked only as 'True Street', with kids of similar ages to mine splashed across its courtyard and great library. I go to this college. I live within that city.

The cool morning breeze that marks it is time for work and rings the bell of mornings gusts across my body. My clothes shake and billow with its strength, but I do not move. My toes hang over the edge of the rooftop, and I gaze down below toward the traffic and monotonousness of the city. I am unflinching toward the crowd of onlookers below; some crying for me to come down, some simply staring at me baked beneath the sun. My arms are held out parallel to each other, like an eagle, to keep my balance. They don't understand.

Gritty dust flakes off from the rooftop and turns to sand below me as I lift up my foot and ready myself for the jump.

Do you really want to die? Something asks me.

I look around. There is me, the sun, and the crowd below. I find not the holder of the voice, but a crow of an indescribable darkness. It seemed to rest on another dimension: the longer I stared at it, the longer I seemed to lose myself within it. It stretched its wings and yawned, gazing at me with knowing red eyes. It was ironic to me, that a crow, the harbinger of death, would appear before me on my way out from the world. I expected a caw, a reaction, but its beak remained closed. It continued to stare at me.

Do you want to die?

For some reason, it took me awhile to answer. I knew the answer, but I couldn't help but think.

"..Yes." I said at last.

When Darkness becomes Sundered and the sea becomes sky, a new Age will bring forth the Throne of Gods.

"I don't understand."

That doesn't matter. You will die today.

"Well, I guess. Isn't that obvious? I didn't plan on stopping because of a crow with telepathy."

Not you. Your soul.

"Whatever. I don't believe in any of that shit, Crow."

My name is Thir. Names hold more than just words. Remember that.
Goodbye, mortal.

I planned on ending it anyway. But as the crow, "Thir", flew away, I couldn't help but feel a flare of anger course through me as his takeoff flight sent me sprawling off the rooftop. I wanted to go out my own way, even if I might be labeled a coward for it. Butterflies tugged at my chest as I looked down at the gasping onlookers below. Time seemed to stand still as I fell. I moved at an impossibly slow speed; my thoughts the only things unfiltered by what I called magic. I felt like I was moving through a thick mud or a dense river. I was moving through bubble wrap, in a space where sound could not catch up. My eyes were shut fiercely by a rekindled sense of fear and emotion, and by a strange sensation I had not known before. The feeling you get when things are beyond your understanding, but you try to comprehend it anyway.

When I opened my eyes, I was not home. I was no longer on the rooftops staring down at my college, at True Street. Hell, I didn't think this was Earth anymore.

It wasn't.

As I landed on the ground, I saw others, just as dazed and surprised as me, land here just as I had. We all seemed bruised from our "flight" here, some more than others. In the center, something caught everyone's eyes. It was a ma-, no definitely not a man. He had the face and body of one such, but the horns that protruded from his thick skull and the way his body remained elevated above the ground insisted he was something far greater. Or far less. Both thoughts were frightening. Next to him sat a giant red wheel, the type you saw in game shows, with words scribbled on each plank in a different tongue than my own. It was obvious the ink was the blood of others before us. Thir sat perched atop the man's shoulder.

I was relieved to be alive. This strange journey made me realize I did not want to die after all. I wanted to live.

The man, the creature, looked at me.

And just like that, I heard the shattering of glass. It took me a long time to realize that it was my heart that had been cracked. I stared at the gaping black hole in my chest with my fleeting life. I felt cold. So very cold. The sun, whose beams of light I hated just minutes ago, seemed a distant thought as I fell to my knees, wanting but unable to gasp in surprise and terror. I fell forward, my body crumbling into a dust just like the kind I kicked off the rooftop.

And again, just like that, I was dead.

"That doesn't matter. You will die today." The crow had said.

______

The wheel glowed with a strange magic as a human heart appeared at its center, fueling it like coal. It seemed to give the mechanism life. Sustenance.

The creature clapped his hands. "He will not go to Heaven nor Hell. Neither will any of you, if you die.

I am Baal. Welcome to the Color Games."

~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Your characters will need to experience death, or something close to it - it is how they enter the Games. A near death experience, a suicide attempt, murdered, etc: they will not remember any of their past, and will not remember their death or experience. At least not immediately.

Character Skeleton:

Name :
Alias : [Optional]
Age :
Appearance : ~

Weapons : You won't start off with them, but what will your main weapon be?
Magic/Ability: After it starts, you'll be forced in a line, and Baal will spin the wheel for you. It lands on your ability/power. What will it be? Initially it will be unyielding and hard to control.

Personality : Two good paragraphs or more will do.
Biography : Two good paragraphs or more will do. Include death; what happened?

Extra: [Optional - Anything else you'd like to tell us?]

[Chelubai]

First post




Name : Devon Cole
Alias : Cole, "Coca Cole-a"
Age : 17
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Appearance :
Cole is a medium height slab of meat, built tough from his toes to his eyelashes. Standing at an average 5'9" he would not seem intimidating from his height. His body structure though is built close to that of a bull's. He has a layer of lean muscle over his entire body, giving him a sort of muscle guy look, under that layer is a large bone structure inherited from the Irish parts of his family, over that layer, especially in the midsection, is a medium sized layer of pudge that comes from an inability to stop snacking. At death he wears a black sleeveless shirt under a dark brown, peanut butter chocolate over shirt. He also sports a pair of dark khaki cargo shorts, his feet clad in your average converse sneaker.
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Weapons : A large two handed, double sided axe which at first he can barely wield.
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Magic/Ability:
Transformation- Cole will have the ability to change any part of his body to meet a situation. Unlike most comic book transformers, the only thing Cole can actually change is the level of different types of flesh and tissue. For example he can suddenly gain/lose twenty pounds or have a jacked bicep in less than a minute.
-------
Personality :
Though most would not think it, Cole is not a big headed at all, he simply has great faith in himself. He does come off as arrogant to others, and does not understand why, nor can he completely notice when someone is using body language to suggest their feelings. He has a hard time understanding other people, which has given him somewhat of an innocent persona that earned him a right to the popular crowd in school.

He can be severely competitive, which is the reason he is, or was, in both wrestling and football, though he eventually dropped football because of the time it took out of his life. He is not without mercy however, and will occasionally drop the ball on what he's doing to let someone else win.

On lesser notes, Cole is:
Shy, has high self esteem, enjoys humor, can take things too literal, is secretly a cry baby, and doesn't like people commenting on how he looks.
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Biography : Devon Cole was once a good boy, the atypical popular kid who never did anything bad, always doing what his parents told him, making perfect grades in school. He went to church even, every Sunday at 10:30 he'd arrive at a church on the hill, sit down in a pew and listen to the sermon. He fancied himself a good Christian, and always tried to show it, or tell people about it. God forbid anything bad ever happen to him, right? Well, nothing would have, but you're not supposed to tempt the devil.

"He can't do anything to me, he's just a little red goat-man who lives in the proverbial 'basement' of earth and comes to the surface to what, throw little darts at people and lie about stuff? Please, don't tell me he has any power over the future, I'm to smart for that crap." He proclaimed one day to a fortune teller on the street, as she lay down her tarot cards. "Nothing YOU say will be true." He believed he was being smart about it, only to find her prediction to be true later.

She had told him with a smile that he would die soon, and that he wouldn't go immediately to heaven like he thought he would.

He paid no attention to it, scoffing. But as he walked away, and got farther and farther along, his breath started to quicken and he could hear his heart thud, thud, thudding in his chest. He broke out into a sweat and sooner or later found himself in a fetal position in some alleyway, crying. When he finally got the nerve to get up and keep walking home, a drunk driver veered off the street and rammed into the back of his spine. Yet he turned to dust then and there and found himself in the weird limbo.

[Rtron]

Name : George Matthews.

Age : 32

Appearance :

5ft 7in.

Weapons : Bow, Long dagger.

Magic/Ability: Metal manipulation. If it's any time of Metal, George can manipulate it as he wishes. Of course, it's pretty much useless until he can use it properly.

Personality : George is generally a cheerful, optimistic, friendly fellow. That being said, the over lying appearance hides the cunning, manipulative, cold and ruthless man that lies beneath. It wasn't always this way, George used to be genuinely the man he presents to the world. But, that all changed when he was a teenager. He became cruel and hard, a cynic and one without morals or mercy. He learned that people despise that appearance though, and began carefully crafting a look that people would accept, and even like.

He uses any and all information he gets from people, willing or accidental, and the words 'promise', 'honor', and 'you have my word' generally mean nothing to him. Written agreements maybe even less so unless they benefit him in some way shape or form. He's out to get ahead in the world, and will do anything and everything he deems necessary to do so.

Biography : George was born in rural Missouri in USA. For the most part, he lived a country life. Religion, tending to the farm, practicing his hunting with a bow, putting much into thing such as honor and giving someone your word. And for the most part, he was happy. All that changed when he was 14. His family and him were driving from a school event when they were hit by a truck. George was the only survivor and was in the Emergency room in critical condition for a month or so before he stabilized. It took several months to fully recover physically. He never fully recovered mentally. He became bitter and cold. This was only strengthened by the fact that the man whom had killed his family got off with no repercussions what so ever, simply because he had a better lawyer whom could manipulate the law better than the prosecutor.

George never forgot his face or his name. He was shipped off to live with his relatives in the city of New York. There, he quickly shed his ideas about honor and a mans word. After getting a job in a big business corporation, he quickly rose through the ranks through various means, both legal and illegal. Always he remembered the face and name of the man who killed his family. One day on 'vacation' he went to visit the man. After finding the man and planning to kill him, George was hit by something he hadn't been hit with for years now. Shame. Shame for planning to kill an old man. He could hear his families condemnations. So, he left. And went to a bar and consumed a large amount of alcohol. When driving home, he passed out. Veering off the rode, he slammed into somebody, before being sent into the ditch, propelling his, now fully awake, form out and into the ground at break neck speed which...well...broke his neck. Thus, he died and arrived here.

[Noel]

CS and whatnot

Name : Alex Leigh
Age : 19
Appearance :

Alex is about 5'7 with a fairly thin build and a slight bit of muscle definition. Her complexion is a bit pale and she has a fairly noticeable scar on the left side of her forehead which usually remains covered by her hair.

Weapons : Alex's weapon will be a sort of gauntlet worn on her right arm which reaches up to just below her elbow. The upper section of the weapon is metal for guarding against attacks, the lower section houses a mechanism which can fire and retract a chain with a spiked end designed to pull targets to her(or pull her to targets if it happens to be heavier than her). The hand of the gauntlet as well as the 'sleeve' over the arm is made of leather which the armor/mechanism are housed atop. The fingers and thumb are each topped with jointed metal and the finger tips are spiked.

Magic/Ability: Matter Displacement: Alex will gain the ability to displace matter in an area she focuses on. Starting out it will be difficult to pinpoint where the ability displaces matter from making it a bit random in addition to sending the matter to a random location each time. As she gains proficiency with the ability she will be able to more easily and accurately displace matter as well as control where the displaced matter reappears.

After it starts, you'll be forced in a line, and Baal will spin the wheel for you. It lands on your ability/power. What will it be? Initially it will be unyielding and hard to control.

Personality : Alex is someone who could be described as rather lively but hard to get along with. She has a tendency to taunt or mock others in varying degrees ranging from simple playful teasing to very personal attacks on the targets character depending on the situation. She has a fairly volatile temper at times but is not one to outright yell or scream and will usually tend to simply boil while continuing with her regular taunting. She is not one who is very forthcoming about her real emotions in general, often just brushing any inquires about how she really feels off.

While she does keep herself carrying an air of not much caring about others or what they think of her, she is rather loyal to those she becomes close too even if they end up having a falling out and not speaking any longer. As such it does actually matter to her quite a bit what image others hold of her though she would not ever directly admit that to herself or anyone else for that matter.

Biography : Alex was a bit of a tom boy born to a single father as an only child who would never quite know what became of the former relationship between her mother and father. Despite wondering about her absent parent fairly often the girl was not especially unhappy and did keep a good relationship with her father who spent plenty of time with the young Alex. Unfortunately as luck would have it, it would become apparent that the neighborhood the father and daughter resided in would become less than desirable as the years rolled on. Alex would soon realize that her father who had barely been keeping them above water certainly did not have the means to relocate them to a better location. For a while it was frightening, car alarms and gunshots could be heard nightly, followed by the blaring of police sirens. She wished it would just stop but the only thing that did were the sirens as the area became more and more unpleasant.

The friends she had eventually began to grow distant as they certainly did not wish to venture into the now dangerous. This caused the already mounting frustration within Alex due to the environment to start to bubble over. She began to crow more callous and easily angered, soon growing rather harsh and taunting to her friends which would be driven away. With the worsening attitude the girl who had been known as just a tomboy had eventually come to be thought as something of a delinquent. Through a bit of twisted logic Alex in turn had begun seeing herself as such and eventually drifted into a different social circle.

The circle she had ended up in was one that the more average students in her class would think of as a 'bad crowd'. In truth her new friends weren't truly terrible people, merely ones that earned their own delinquent reputation due to things such as poor grades, skipping class, being the types to argue with teachers or get into fights, the type of students with stories of poor home lives around them. Even if others began to look at her differently she found herself feeling more at home with the slightly down and out group, many of them came from areas similar to hers so they could relate after all.

Though mostly harmless they could still be easily described as somewhat trouble makers. They would get into street scraps or be found wandering around in places that were considered off limits for no real reason other then simply to do it. They were a bit of a nuisance but all in all they were little more then an annoyance. Still the group occasionally lamented the poor image they held in the eyes of others. One day while wandering around at night near the end of her last year of highschool, Alex and her friends happened upon something they thought may help improve the opinions of them.

Two of their fellow students being mugged within a dimly lit alley which lead into one of the poorer parts of town. Coincidentally, one of the victims looked to be a former friend and so she quickly pitched the idea of helping them and earning some good credit. The rest of the group agreed quickly, after all it was two guys VS several of them. They approached quickly, shouting and just generally trying to be as threatening as possible. However that mere duo were real thugs. A fight ensured and things escalated quickly, one of the thugs pulling a knife against the unarmed group. For a moment it seemed their numbers had the upper hand until a sharp bang rang out through the streets.

The second thug had pulled a handgun and fired. The group of friends and two victims stood shocked for a moment. Alex felt a thick damp warmth spreading over her shirt. Looking down she saw blood seeping from her stomach. The would be victims screamed and the thugs barked obscenities. Her friends moved to help but the thug fired two more shots into Alex's chest and leg, continuing to shoot at the others as the girl doubled over clutching her stomach. Her friends were forced to run from the shots, sirens could be heard in the distance causing the thugs to flee after violently snatching the purses of the students Alex had intended to save, who too quickly fled from the scene.

Alex was left to bleed out and die within the alleyway, having only enough strength to sit herself against the side of the alley walls. “I wonder... if she remembered me...” would be her dieing thought just before her body dissolved into dust, sending her off on a one way trip to a certain limbo...

[Chelubai]

QQ

[Tytus]

Almost there, guys. Nice characters~

Also, this thread was kinda closed for some reason..
So yeah, if anybody was lurking: it's not anymore. Come post

[Noel]

Is that some Firo she sees?

[Tytus]

It is indeed~

Well, I changed it again, but it was

[Noel]

Seal of approval because Baccano is awesome

and hey look its Eren

[ruler710]

Working all weekend, sorry but I'll try and get a CS up tonight/tomorrow.