Avatar of Ichthys
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  • Old Guild Username: Ichthys
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    1. Ichthys 11 yrs ago

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Yes, it was amazing how it all happened without any sort of organization. The human tendency to try to find (or achieve) control and order never ceases to amaze me.

[[It reminds me of High School and even some classes in college. In some classes, no seating chart was established (duh) but most of the students still sat in the same seats everyday. Always.]]
Silence reigned in the room. The voice didn't ring out. The guards didn't move. For a moment, the still hum of the lights seemed to quiet. Even Mr. William's quick, shallow breathing was being held in as the distraught man anxiously worried over what the voice would say next. Then, the cold, shivering silence was replaced with a faint -click-. A simple and constant buzz began filling in the silence with its unsettling sound. Occasionally, faint voices and other sounds could be discerned, but that was all that could be heard properly.

Something was afoot, but for the five suspects, the only things they could see was themselves. The only things they could hear was the buzzing. The only things they could feel was the hard, concrete ground and walls. Everything was white and gray, except for the sound. The sound was a dark, rustic yellow, foreboding and mechanical.

"Mr. Williams, you are free to go," that same familiar but strange voice broke out, eliminating the sound of the buzzing from the intercom, "the rest of you are being detained for the night."

Again, a -click-. And the room was silent once more. Now, things were a darker gray, no longer white.

The guards put their guns back at their sides, as the simple but reinforced door opened, most likely opened by another guard on the outside. A single officer came in and escorted the now relieved Mr. Williams. As the man walked out of the room, one couldn't help but wonder why he was so dramatically relieved.

After the officer and Mr. Williams left, four guards appeared from the darkness of the other room. One ordered for the four suspects to follow them, as the two, previous guards took the boards from the hands of the soon-to-be prisoners. As the four were led out, the guards boxed them in, two on one side, two on another. The journey to the cell began.

The place seemed to be like a maze. A door here. A turn there. Another curve, another door. Throughout it all the same grayness, the same concrete and metal, the same lights - only in lesser concentration now. Odd for what was only supposed to be a mere police station. Finally, after only a minute amount of minutes, the guards opened one final door to the small cellblock. Obviously, the place wasn't meant to house anyone permanently but only as a temporary cage. Currently, only one other person inhabited the cells, the second one farthest from the door. With a jingle of keys, one of the men opened up the only other cell and the four were directed inside. As the same man closed the cell door, another informed them on what was transpiring.

"The investigation is ongoing, and we have reason to believe one of you is the culprit, so for the night, you four will be kept in here. Tomorrow morning, interrogations will start," he spoked monotonously but authoritatively, gray like the rest of the infernal, austere place. Even when one of the other guards chimed in that the four should "make themselves at home" did their voices carry no sense of authenticity or genuine care for the four suspects. But that was just that. They didn't care, did they?

The four guards left, leaving the prisoners on their own. Of course, just because the authorities were gone did not mean they were completely alone.

Still, now the suspects had time to really take in the grandness of their communal cell. Opposite of the cell bars was a simple plastic bench, which was screwed into the wall, that could comfortably fit two or perhaps three of them at once. Above the bench, high up on the wall, was a thin, short window that let some light come in. It brought in bits of warm gold, but the sun seemed to be setting, so the gold would disappear soon. On either side of the bench were two bunk beds made of metal. The metal was partially rusted and the simple, well-worn excuses for mattresses adorned their great beds. And of course, the metal toilet perched in front of the rightmost bunk bed, also firmly embedded in the walls of the building.

"I'm glad I'm not in that cell with you guys," spoke the other inmate in the neighboring cell, which was identical. He looked as worn as the mattresses, his voice as lifeless as that of the guards. His rugged features gave the impression that he had been in that cell far longer than allowable. His hair was unkempt but not terribly messy. He wasn't too terribly tall or short, although his height was difficult to guess as the man sat simply on his bench. HIs head was craned downward; he stared at his hands from boredom.

"I'd be terrified of sharing a cell with a killer. Last time I saw a killer in the cells, they tried to suffocate the other inmate in their sleep. Luckily for the inmate, the guards intervened just in time, but if my life has taught me something, it's that anything is possible given enough opportunity... Like that one thing about the infinite amount of monkeys typing. One of them is bound to write what they're supposed to eventually. I'd sleep with one eye open tonight or maybe not sleep at all."

He continued staring at his hands. There was a pause. He took a breath. Then, he mumbled something which seemed to have been a quick afterthought, something that seemed a bit obscure, perhaps a better word would simply be odd or foreboding.

"I feel real sorry that you guys got pent up here though. Something always seems to happen."

The grayness was broken by bits of black and red, from the last dark streaks of the setting sun and emerging night.

"Still, might as well get comfortable. Tomorrow is still a few days away," another pause, another breath. The man spoke in riddles, no doubt a consequence of being locked in a cell alone.

"Might as well introduce myself too. Name's Ethan. Who are you guys?"

As Ethan spoke, the guards came to check on the prisoners, as per routine. They gave a thorough examination of all the cells from the outside. As they left, one of the guards suggested the inmates get to sleep, while the other warned that none of them be up to any "funny business" during the night.
[[If you're just gonna use it for future reference, I'd rather have it PM'd please. :)]]
Thanks. I wasn't aware of that. As I said, I read the first post -- but only the first post. Hope this goes well. I'll be following this one. :D
[[I'll be messaging the RC Master to see what has been holding him up. :)]]
I know that this RP is already rolling, but I'm wondering if you'd let me join. I read the first post and saw nothing about being closed or anything, so I felt compelled to ask on the current status of the RP.
The four figures are you guys; that inference was expected. The fifth guy could either be an unapped PC or an NPC, who knows? OOoOooOOOoooooOoo...

[[It's an NPC. I don't plan on having entirely permanent PCs in the RP; you guys are the stars, not me.]]
Note: Don't be afraid to include your own little information about the world. I hand you the crayons. The only 'mandatory' information that can not be changed and all that is the actual information I supply - the lines of the coloring book. In this case, it's where you are, what the crime was about and where it happened. Specifics are up to the players. :)
The post is up; our first genre is mainly mystery and suspense~!

Therefore, I did my personal best to keep as many concrete details to a minimum. At this point, the characters can make up whatever alibi they want, whether it is true or false. This is my rendition of an introductory post. I find it much less boring and more interactive to already have a good chunk of the plot in motion at the get-go,. Besides, now you can have fun in figuring out how your character got to the point in which we are at and what they are going to do from this point on. :D The writing is for as much the discovery of the future as it is for the past.




Chapter One: Written in Blood
~~~


The smell of fear, sorrow and anxiety permeated the air. Five figures stood in front of a white wall that had markings for height; in their hands were boards that had some written information about them. Two men in uniform stood guard by the door, eyes intent on the five suspects.

The room was unusually bare and empty. Only a mirror on the other side of the rectangular room, and a single door on the left of the five broke the pattern of desolation. Bright, white, phosphorus lights stood rooted in the ceiling above. Their light was blinding if stared at, but it served the purpose of highlighting every detail in the room and on the five figures. Suddenly, a familiar but also unfamiliar voice spoke from somewhere else. Nobody was in the room, yet a voice still spoke to them.

"Alright, we know it was one of you who did it," the voice seemed masculine and assertive but somewhat muddled as if blocked by something, "Witnesses have identified each of you and reported that you were at or nearby the apartment residence of the victim. Now, the culprit can come out and admit they were guilty, or we'll have to continue the investigation until we prove it was one of you. And who know's we might find incriminating evidence on all of you."

The emphasis that the voice put on the word might, made that word more definite than it should have, as if it was a promise. There was a quiet moment, as the voice let the threat sink in.

"Now, which one of you did it?" the voice asked, believing that all five of them knew what it was referring to.

"I didn't do it!" yelled the voice of the figure farthest from the door. It belonged to a middle aged man. The man looked as if life had been tough on him; his clothes were drab and simple, his grooming was unkempt. Obviously, he had been handed a bad hand in his life.

"I promise 'ya I didn't do it!" The man's voice reeked with despair and honesty, "Why would I kill my own wife?! I LOVED HER! It was one of these guys; I just know it!" A finger was pointed in the area of the four figures to the left. "I just don't know which one did it; it was too dark for me t' see 'em! But I promise 'ya it was one of them! I'm sure of it!"

Sweat poured down the man's face, his eyes bulging out of his face, his body trembling. The officer's gripped their weapons a bit tighter now; their eyes focused more on the man who seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown.

"Calm down, Mr. Williams, or we'll have to have the officers intervene," the muddled, invisible voice rang back from all sides, "Now, I repeat, one of you fess up now, and maybe we can talk about lowering your sentence a bit."

The four other figures were given a moment to speak. After their moment was over, the voice would continue with its routine.
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