Checking in, fashionably late! Hey all, swell to see you! Heard Chanda was back, so I'm here out of spite. I'll have my stuff organised by tomorrow!
Captain Jenno Member
Waltzing for Zizi
STATUS: "Gee Sam, this seems like the kinda case that requires the gentle, safe-cracking touch of the sociopathic, sausage-fingered freelance police." 9 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Captain Jenno
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 809 (0.20 / day)
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ButtsnBalls
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9 yrs ago
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"Gee Sam, this seems like the kinda case that requires the gentle, safe-cracking touch of the sociopathic, sausage-fingered freelance police."
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9 yrs ago
Blue in Dallas
Bio
Rain pattered dismally against the office’s windows, made liquid brass by the faint glow of the streetlamps below, and streaked against the glass like tears. Once, the words “Jennofski & Jennofski” had been painted in gold across these jalouises… but now there was only an outline, a ghost that had lingered, long past its time, when the acid rain had taken the rest to its grave.
The Octo P.I. could sympathise with that.
But as long as he remained, those names would never be forgotten. Not in this, the office that had been his home, his sanctuary, and his prison.
A perfectly preserved memory, kept sealed within the bell jar of personal tragedy.
OctoP.I. sighed, deeply.
“Of all the octopode's profiles in all the world… you had to read mine.”
Hi all, Jenno here! Or Captain. I'm your resident blues harpist, and part time octopode! (But let's keep that between you and me, eh? Nobody suspects a thing.)
If you want to know anything just drop me a line via DMs and I'll get right back to you!
The Octo P.I. could sympathise with that.
But as long as he remained, those names would never be forgotten. Not in this, the office that had been his home, his sanctuary, and his prison.
A perfectly preserved memory, kept sealed within the bell jar of personal tragedy.
OctoP.I. sighed, deeply.
“Of all the octopode's profiles in all the world… you had to read mine.”
Hi all, Jenno here! Or Captain. I'm your resident blues harpist, and part time octopode! (But let's keep that between you and me, eh? Nobody suspects a thing.)
If you want to know anything just drop me a line via DMs and I'll get right back to you!
Most Recent Posts
Good post, Turbo! Just a little issue. It's my fault for not really mentioning it, but the arrow (no bow involved) only gave just over half the Stand Community their powers. And given Pleasant Valley is quite small, everyone is at least semi-aware of one another, origins irrelevant.
Okay folks let's rock and roll.
Heavy rain.
It was a cloudburst, like one never seen on the sunny shores of Pleasant Valley: a sudden tempest that had begun with a single lightning bolt, which had broken the sky in two, and let thick grey clouds pour through the cracks like a weeping sore.
For most citizens, this was a freak act of nature, but nothing more - A consequence of global warming, or the prelude to an even bigger storm.
But for the Stand Users of Pleasant Valley, it felt as though there'd been a fundamental shift in the environment around them, as though one of a hundred candles had been extinguished, and the room they were in had become one one-hundredth darker.
It was happening again.
October 22nd, 2000. Another misleadingly named Pleasant Valley Sunday. It was moving slowly into late afternoon, teetering on 4pm, when civilians were even allowed close to the crime scene.
Another suspiciously un-suspicious death. At 1pm, Damien Bourke was found dead in the bathroom of his beachfront home. It usually overlooked a sandy white beach which sloped easily into blue ocean, but today the rain turned the sand into a wet, grey clay, and the clouds made the ocean black. The house's windows, like eyes, seemed to glaze over at their loss.
Damien had been found stood up, with his face pressed into the shattered surface of his bathroom cabinet's mirror. This wasn't the cause of death, but he was heavily disfigured for it. His heart had apparently stopped beating sometime between brushing his teeth and shaving earlier that day.
Police on the scene found no evidence of foul play, and so saw little harm in letting old-time neighbours approach the scene, within reason.
They'd made a similar call four months earlier, at Havana Reddy's residence... a mere five houses down the waterfront.
But thunder clapped raucously between the valley walls, and the rain drove most people back to their homes, their curiosity decidedly less resilient than their beach-born aversion to the damp.
By the time 4pm came about proper, only a dozen or so people remained, some of them seemingly family. Almost half of them were Boomtown Rats.
They watched with their backs to the beach, lined up in silence as they truly absorbed what had occurred here, like a mourning party.
Obviously, the immediate answer was a sudden, tragic death: but there was more than that. There was something in the air that mingled with the earthy scent of petrichor, something that seemed sickly sweet to the nostrils, but bitter and coppery when it laid itself across the tongue. The residual vestigium of a foreign body - the leftover presence of a Stand. And not just any Stand, but a powerful one: one with so great a presence that it remained hours and hours after the Stand had left.
Certainly more powerful than any Stand in the Boomtown Rats' assembly.
Bruno spoke first, peering out through the droves of watery streams pouring from the canopy of his black umbrella- fittingly somber, but only brought out in the interest of maintaining his pompadour. He'd taken the cigarette from his lips and held it limply in his left hand, tapping the butt rhythmically with his thumb as he'd exhaled a billow of smoke towards Umbrella Beach. No parasols out today, those that'd been left by tourists had been lost to sea the minute the storm had arrived.
Then he'd said, in a low voice, "Right. Any of you guys feel like snooping around?"
It was a cloudburst, like one never seen on the sunny shores of Pleasant Valley: a sudden tempest that had begun with a single lightning bolt, which had broken the sky in two, and let thick grey clouds pour through the cracks like a weeping sore.
For most citizens, this was a freak act of nature, but nothing more - A consequence of global warming, or the prelude to an even bigger storm.
But for the Stand Users of Pleasant Valley, it felt as though there'd been a fundamental shift in the environment around them, as though one of a hundred candles had been extinguished, and the room they were in had become one one-hundredth darker.
It was happening again.
October 22nd, 2000. Another misleadingly named Pleasant Valley Sunday. It was moving slowly into late afternoon, teetering on 4pm, when civilians were even allowed close to the crime scene.
Another suspiciously un-suspicious death. At 1pm, Damien Bourke was found dead in the bathroom of his beachfront home. It usually overlooked a sandy white beach which sloped easily into blue ocean, but today the rain turned the sand into a wet, grey clay, and the clouds made the ocean black. The house's windows, like eyes, seemed to glaze over at their loss.
Damien had been found stood up, with his face pressed into the shattered surface of his bathroom cabinet's mirror. This wasn't the cause of death, but he was heavily disfigured for it. His heart had apparently stopped beating sometime between brushing his teeth and shaving earlier that day.
Police on the scene found no evidence of foul play, and so saw little harm in letting old-time neighbours approach the scene, within reason.
They'd made a similar call four months earlier, at Havana Reddy's residence... a mere five houses down the waterfront.
But thunder clapped raucously between the valley walls, and the rain drove most people back to their homes, their curiosity decidedly less resilient than their beach-born aversion to the damp.
By the time 4pm came about proper, only a dozen or so people remained, some of them seemingly family. Almost half of them were Boomtown Rats.
They watched with their backs to the beach, lined up in silence as they truly absorbed what had occurred here, like a mourning party.
Obviously, the immediate answer was a sudden, tragic death: but there was more than that. There was something in the air that mingled with the earthy scent of petrichor, something that seemed sickly sweet to the nostrils, but bitter and coppery when it laid itself across the tongue. The residual vestigium of a foreign body - the leftover presence of a Stand. And not just any Stand, but a powerful one: one with so great a presence that it remained hours and hours after the Stand had left.
Certainly more powerful than any Stand in the Boomtown Rats' assembly.
Bruno spoke first, peering out through the droves of watery streams pouring from the canopy of his black umbrella- fittingly somber, but only brought out in the interest of maintaining his pompadour. He'd taken the cigarette from his lips and held it limply in his left hand, tapping the butt rhythmically with his thumb as he'd exhaled a billow of smoke towards Umbrella Beach. No parasols out today, those that'd been left by tourists had been lost to sea the minute the storm had arrived.
Then he'd said, in a low voice, "Right. Any of you guys feel like snooping around?"
Groovy! The IC will start tomorrow night, hopefully. Some of you will find the first post a little familiar, I'm sure.
I think I'll just keep Corey's abilities the way they are in my original app. Spreading hairs should obviously be a pain but she already has a gang of thralls loyal followers a dozen strong waiting for her at school plus all the nameless Bratva goons daddy no doubt turned a blind eye to her brainwashing, so I think her Stand is plenty strong as it is :)
Not too strong, of course... no fun if one Rat drastically surpasses the others. That's four Boomtown Rats thus far, then. Just waiting on Oblivion.
Okay folks I'm closing character apps so those of you that have submitted need to refine and get back to me.
Is the Bow and Arrow going to have a big part in this story?
Not at all, it exists mainly as a means of justifying the presence of so many stand users.
Howdy folks, I've been a bit under the weather the last couple days but I'm back on duty now. If you have any remaining questions direct them to me, we'll be starting within the week.
Would it be alright if I was the sister of one of the Stand Killer's victims? Unless I've missed something, they've not all been named, but I don't know what you've got behind the GM's curtain.
So far, I'm thinking that from a family of Stand users, Mercury Deacon and the earth-shattering Stand 'We Will Rock You' was killed, and her sister Taylor May with 'Seven Seas of Rhye' is determined to get to the bottom of it. Family surname pending, but Queen seems a bit too on-the-nose. Maybe that's the out-of-town matriarch's stand...
I quite like this image for inspiration http://safebooru.org/index.php?page=post&s=view&id=913333 and I see Taylor May as a fairly successful student, on her way to follow her big sister into college. She doesn't get into trouble, or act out beyond the usual teenage rebellion. Her electric guitar probably wouldn't be her parents' first choice, but playing an instrument does look good on college applications...
Seven Seas of Rhye appears as a green-blue trident-wielding mermaid, with a large numeral '7' in place of a face. It has a 'territory' effect with seven distinct abilities. The size of the territory and the available abilities is dependent on the amount of water nearby for SSoR to act through.
'I descend upon your earth from the skies' - Water is pulled from the atmosphere, encouraging it to rain. Area and intensity of rain depends on available moisture.
'I command your very souls you unbelievers' - Taylor May controls water around her, including water inside people, though other Stand-users are immune to this aspect.
'I stand before you naked to the eyes' - The Stand manifests, ready to fight
'Storm the master-marathon I'll fly through' - Requires a heavy rain storm, Taylor May can fly within her territory
'By flash and thunder-fire I'll survive' - Requires a lightning storm, adding thunder and lightning to Taylor May's arsenal
'Then I'll defy the laws of nature and come out alive' - Requires a lightning storm, Taylor May controls the water in cells to rapidly heal wounds to herself and allies
'I'll take you to the Seven Seas of Rhye' - Requires a hugely intense storm, SSoR becomes a whirlpool pulling foes inside itself to churn, toss and eventually drown them if it's not soon defeated.
I have all the victims' names down already but if you'd like she could be an estranged sibling, hence the name change. Think you might have a bit much going on stand-wise, though, as much as I like your thinking.
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