AllOurPrettySongs

Piaget Asylum [AllOurPrettySongs & Ace Of Jacks]

Yolanda cringed each time the rock struck the glass of the window, the sound too loud. Breathing a sigh of relief as Mason completed his task, she glanced down at his right hand which was decorated with small cuts. She touched his hand briefly.

"You're bleeding," She murmured before turning her attention to the window before her. Stooping and picking up the bags she had dropped moments before, she stepped up and peered inside. It was ridiculously dark and a thick smell of dust and decay attacked her senses. Pushing through the feelings, she threw the bags through the window, hearing them drop heavily. Thankfully, it was only a short drop.

Yolanda glanced at Mason again for a few moments before she pressed her palms against the windowpane, hoisting herself upwards and awkwardly throwing a leg over the barrier. She didn't have much room to work with and, completely lacking in grace, she stumbled inside, tripping and falling into the darkness.

"Fok!" Yolanda exclaimed, slipping into her native tongue. "Dom bloedige venster! Christus!*"

[* "Fuck! Dumb bloody window! Christ!"]

Piaget Asylum [AllOurPrettySongs & Ace Of Jacks]

Yolanda laughed as Mason toppled backwards, covering her mouth as the sound echoed more than she would have thought. It wasn't just that she was afraid of getting caught; she knew most avoided the old building and their were no guards posted.

But, in a strange way, she felt compelled to speak at a respectful near whisper, as if the asylum itself was a stern teacher who demanded quiet. She grimaced slightly, as if the thought pained her, before giving her friend a small smile as they stepped through the rusted gates.

"Now or never," Yolanda agreed as she turned and quickly picked up the bags behind her, having almost forgotten them. 'Focus', she snapped internally. Focus. Walking forwards, the asylum loomed up further, growing as they approached. The air felt almost tangible, as if it could be cut through with a blade. Heavy.

Yolanda, with more effort than had ever been necessary, continued walking until they reached the front entrance of the main building. Boards were nailed over it, signs screaming 'KEEP OUT' in a loud red adorned the boards, displaying the message in multiple different languages. It was sound advice.

Stepping up the three steps and onto the small cement landing, she saw how sturdy the boards were. They had clearly been placed recently. Cursing quietly, she turned and descended the stairs, frowning at Mason. "I think we'll have to break a window, hofnar."

Yolanda often referred to Mason as 'hofnar'. She hadn't revealed the meaning of the word to him, thinking it funny to watch him try and guess what it translated to. It was the Afrikaans word for 'jester', something she thought befitting because of his happy and joke filled disposition.

And the Darkness Fell

Accepted. We'll wait for a few more people before starting. (:

Hospital for the Unstable Liabilities

Yolanda nodded slowly, eyeing the man, still cautious. "I'm Yolanda." She introduced herself finally, resigning herself to the fact that he would find out sooner or later. She took another sip from the canteen before setting it aside, tapping her fingers lightly on the surface of the table. A nervous tic.

Hospital for the Unstable Liabilities

Yolanda arched her eyebrows as the male spoke to her, offering up different greetings. "I speak English," She said, neglecting to mention she alsp spoke Afrikaans. "Hello."

He was an unusual looking man, silver haired and gloved. She supposed she shouldn't judge, given her own appearance. She offered him a small smile; after all, she didn't know what his ability was and knew it better than to be rude to someone who could seriously injure her.

Hospital for the Unstable Liabilities

Yolanda looked up as a new inmate was brought in and sat down nearby. He seemed jittery and on edge, something he was admittedly entitled to in a place like this. As he dropped his fork suddenly, she peered at it; nothing appeared wrong.

Finishing her slice of watermelon, Yolanda opened the canteen of water and took a sip as she continued to watch the male. People watching had always been a favourite pass time of hers - and now there were much more interesting individuals to observe.

And the Darkness Fell

As long as there have been humans, there has been an almost frantic need to concur the world and its elements; its natural cycles. When it rained, snowed or beat down damaging rays of sunlight, humans built shelters, fashioned warm clothing and created instruments specifically to keep cool in sweltering heat.

Just as we evolved to concur, we evolved to evade when domination wasn't an option. Such was the case with the darkness. Nighttime has always been notorious and mysterious, having given birth to the richest of folktales and legends. Whether one believed in such stories or not was inconsequential: darkness had the ability to make the bravest humans cower, the strongest weak. The night had the ability to create monsters from our imaginations and tempt those with a more malevolent disposition.

We built blinding lights. Buzzing bulbs of electricity. Before that, the glowing embers of fire. The more we evolved, the more we seemed determined to stay out of the dark. Streetlights lined every road, multiple lights installed in homes and businesses and schools. Our phones, matches, torches and lighters would illuminate a dark situation, a portable light source that we could bring with us and create a false sense of security, as if we had actually outsmarted the dark.

The year was 2035 when it happened. It started out slowly, phones dying and not recharging, flashlights stuttering and sputtering before giving out all together, the occasional streetlight burning out. People would scowl and mutter about technology failing them, complaining of cheapness and faulty wiring and inept officials.

The days got shorter. Some complained of climate change and pollution. Some called it a simple natural occurrence. Some still ranted about the end of days, the dwindling light a sign from who or what ever they worshipped.

Then, all at once, everything stopped. The sun set and never rose. Electricity shorted out irreparably, flashlights and streetlights and light bulbs either died away quietly or exploded, plunging their environment into darkness. Batteries refused to recharge, light bulbs refused to work. Matches became more valuable than gold. There wasn't even the moon to provide small comfort in the blackened sky; there was no sun for it to reflect.

The world was as dark as the time it was born. Earth was plunged into anarchy as communication was no longer an option. Crime rates skyrocketed. Those with malevolent dispositions were seduced by what the perpetual darkness offered. Gangs were formed. Society crumbled as officals turned as violent as the people they were meant to control. The higher ups got ahold of night vision goggles and distributed them, though they are still in demand. There were no rules.

Now, in a world that knows only darkness, can humans truly find a way to concur that which they've tried to so many times before?

---

Hey, guys! So, this is my first ever time making a roleplay here. A while ago now, I posted this kind of concept in the Interest Check and only just now gathered the courage to post it after things were more fleshed out. As I stated in the Interest Check topic, I apologise if this kind of RP has been done before - I haven't seen it!

If I've made a mistake or anything, please let me know.

If the above was confusing, here is the simple PLOT SUMMARY:
In the year 2035, the sun disappears and all form of artifical light beyond fire has been wiped out. No one knows why. However, now that the world is dark 24/7, society has lost its collective marbles and gone all Mad Max. You guys seen that? Best movie.

Anyway! We are in a town in America called Gilston. There are gangs formed and the town - and the world - is now a violent cesspool. The citizens have night vision goggles and dwindling supplies of matches to navigate the night. You've got to survive and figure out how to adapt to such a world. Are you a gang member? If so, are you a violent psychopath who takes what you want or are you part of a group simply trying to survive? Who knows. Well, you do. You know since your character came from your brain box.

A FEW RULES:
I promise there aren't too many, I'm pretty easy going:

- This my property, ya hear? What I say goes, yeah? Seriously, though, this is my literary baby and I'd like it to become a beautiful literary adult who's good at sports and stuff. As I said, if you have any suggestions, by all means chuck me a message. But if I'm adamant about something, that's the way it's gonna be.

- No god-modding. If your character came from your cranium, then you can control them as you please. If they are not your brain child, do not control them! Nobody likes that.

- No OOC drama. Guys, we are all friends here. We're all here to have a good time and write. Please don't be rude to each other. IC drama is a-ok if whoever your character has a problem with is cool with that. Just be civil with one another.

- Post length. I love me some paragraphs. Please, no one liners. I'm no novelist and I'm nowhere near the level of some of the people on here, but a minimum of two paragraphs would be appreciated!

- No smut. I know, I know. "AllOurPrettySongs, don't be such a prude!" I can hear a couple people saying. But this my house and these are my rules. Don't be doing the do in this roleplay, please. Relationships are fine! You can have love interests and do them couple-y stuff like kissing and, I don't know, staring into each other's eyes. But if it's headed in a graphic direction, please move it to the PMs.

- This is a violent world. But let's not be overly graphic. Colourful language is welcome but likewise, let's not get graphic. On the violence front, don't kill each other. Nobody likes to be murdered (I'm guessing). If you and another player have decided to kill one another, that is effectively your resignation from this RP.

- If you're going to be absent, please notify me or I'll get worried and start posting 'Lost' signs around the neighborhood. I know there are pretty varied timezones on here, too.

- Have fun! This is a rule, so you have to. That's the law. But seriously, I really hope you have a good time in this roleplay and if you like the cut of my gib or whatever them old timers say, then don't be scared to message me. To chat or to RP in another environment or whatever.

---

[Post your CS in this OOC]
Character Sheet
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Height:
Weight:

Appearance:
Personality:
Gang/Citizen:
Weapon(s) [if applicable & don't go nuts on the weapon level - no carrying around sub machine guns. Knives, small handguns, bats, etc. Are allowed. A maximum of three weapons at a time.]:
Relationships:
History [optional]:

MY CHARACTER:

Yolanda

Name: Yolanda Grieg
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Height: 5' 10"
Weight: 132 lbs

Appearance: Yolanda is average in height and slender in build with faint muscle definition. She has short hair that has been slicked back and dyed bleach blonde. Pale skinned. She has dark brown eyes, which in contrast with her skin, appear to be black. The pale skin of her back has been elaborately inked with the solid lines of a tattoo depicting a grotesque scene of demons and the Devil himself.

Personality: Yolanda is a sly woman. Conniving and secretive, it's often difficult to tell what she is about to do. Despite this, however, she is loyal to those she feels are deserving. Once her loyalty has been secured, she is protective and fierce. Yolanda has a tendency to be sarcastic, dryly humorous and cynical but has the capacity to be kind and tender. Able to be extremely persuasive when need be. She has a touch of nihilsm to her.

Yolanda likes to keep her emotions in check but sometimes loses control. When angered or frightened, she lashes out at any who surround; whether it be friends, family or strangers. She often enters a period of regret after these episodes, though the level of regret is relative to how firmly she believes her anger or fear was justified.

Some of her attitudes and actions could be perceived as threatening, though this is true to her motto of: "get them before they get me."

Gang/Citizen: Yolanda is part of a gang of five - two femles and two males excluding her -though she is the black sheep of the group, so to speak. She often wanders on her own but is able to remain in the gang as she always has their back, as they do hers.

Weapon(s): Yolanda carries two hunting knives, with which she is reasonably skilled. She has also been known to carry a lead pipe.

Relationships: N/A at the moment but am open to working with someone on that.

History: Yolanda was born and raised in South Africa and as such has a strong South African accent. She is able to speak both Afrikaans and English fluently. She has always had an interest in both the occult and both the good and evil of religion, hence her tattoo. Yolanda left South Africa at eighteen to live abroad, eventually settling in the small American town of Gilston.

ACCEPTED CHARACTERS:

Hospital for the Unstable Liabilities

Yolanda silently allowed herself to be led into the establishment, resigning herself to cooperation. It wasn't that she had so quickly given up, moreso that she simply didn't care at the moment. The facility was quite nice, when one got past its actual purpose.

Not particularly wanting to eat, she picked up a slice of watermelon and a canteen of water before being shown to her seat. She sat down opposite the man who had been in the van upon her arrival, who appeared quite hungry. Yolanda observed him for a moment before half heartedly nibbling on the watermelon in hand.

Piaget Asylum [AllOurPrettySongs & Ace Of Jacks]

Alrightyyy. Whatever suits c:

Piaget Asylum [AllOurPrettySongs & Ace Of Jacks]

Yolanda nodded and followed Mason's instructions, parking the car as she was directed. She turned the engine off and pulled the key from the ignition, pocketing it. Taking a moment to compose herself, she undid the seat belt and opened the door, stepping out into the chilled air. It seemed colder here but she shrugged it off, convincing herself it was only her imagination.

She opened the passenger door and removed the small duffel bags of supplies, slinging them on either shoulder. They were slightly heavier than she would have liked but she thought it much better to be over prepared than under. Closing the door with her hip as her hands supported the straps of the bags, she turned her attention to the iron gates before them.

Setting one bag down, Yolanda unzipped it and removed a pair of bolt cutters. "This is it." She murmured, more to herself than Mason. Moving over to the gates, she reached out and felt where the two gates met, soon finding thick chain.

"You're going to have to help me," She said in an almost begrudging tone; she didn't like to ask for help. "The chain is pretty sturdy."