Justric

Saving Anna

Oh my yes. As long as you are game, the Trials shall continue.

After all, the morning after is when it gets *really* interesting...

Saving Anna

I rather like the idea behind the Android premise, as there's a lot we could do with that. Samuel and Willow draw my eye as well. But I do so want to try the World War 1 fantasy storyline; I've tried two other sallies with the same concept (one during the Civil War and one during the Thirty Years War), but my partners for both of those left very early on.

If you would, give me a day to think on it.

Saving Anna

Mermaid / Sailor idea - in the early 18th Century, a scholar who has lost everything he loved decides to commit suicide in the most unusual way: by stranding himself on a desert island in the Pacific. Little does he know that the island is also the central focus for a pod of mermaids! Their usual wont is to lure men into clutches, use them and then kill them (in some versions, they are cannibals as well.) Only being half-deaf, it's hard for any of them to lure him off of the island. So when one finally goes up on land to find out what the story is, she becomes puzzled at how unlike all the sailors, whalers, fishermen and so forth he is. He in turn is puzzled at what a beautiful young woman is doing out in the middle of the ocean to begin with and why is she naked?? As they both work to solve their questions about one another, the rest of the mermaid pod is getting upset that this man remains in their midst.

Saving Anna

Hm. Well, the Avengers RP is pretty much out; I fear I've been "comic-booked" to death over the years, and fanfic of that sort leaves me rather cold. The same for the football player scenario. All of my athlete characters start to blend in my mind after a bit.

Historical, now... I am an amateur history buff (as if the Puritan role-play we're in doesn't give you enough warning.) Here are a few ideas just to throw out at you in that vein:

1) The First World War - A German Zeppelin is shot down over the English countryside after a bombing run on London. The only survivor is a badly wounded airman who must depend upon the good graces of the Englishwoman who finds him and starts to care for him.

2) The First World War (fantasy) - A US citizen who felt he could not let Germany's atrocities go unanswered, he joins a Canadian regiment at the start of the war to find himself in France. By 1916, he's seen his share of horrors yet managed to survive. Now a sergeant, he finds himself trapped out in No Man's Land during a nighttime raid, the rest of his raiding party slaughtered. German artillery starts a barrage as a the enemy prepares to charge the English trenches and he's caught right in the middle. Then he spies a woman in white who seems completely out of place. He manages to drag her into a crater just as the shelling starts and saves her life. As the shelling stops, she abruptly vanishes. Throughout the rest of the war, she appears to him when no one else is around. They begin to form a reluctant relationship, one strained by the fact the he knows she's hiding some sort of secret. (Who she might be is left to you: time traveler from the past or future, figment of his imagination, visitor from an alternate timeline, etc...)

3) World War II - The Nazis complete their occupation of the Netherlands. A German Major from the Wehrmacht has been retired from the lines due to wounds (he walks with a cane), and has been given the job of co-ordinating all of the various organizations to make sure things run as cohesively as possible (Waffen-SS, Gestapo, Luftwaffe, local government officials, Dutch Nazi sympathizers, etc...) Due to staffing problems, he finds himself forced to draw upon Dutch locals to supplement his clerical pool, including a rather pretty young secretary. What he does not know is that it is her recently-deceased uncle's mansion that he has been given to as his residence and offices. What he also does not know is that she is Jewish.

4) Civil War Era - A "cannaller" and his crew on the Erie Canal become caught up with the Underground Railroad and reluctantly transport a pair of escaped slaves and their female conductor from Albany to Buffalo. While they are aware Federal marshals and slave hunters are probably on the hunt for their passengers, it seems the conductor has some forgotten to mention that she is wanted as well... and the person who wants her back will spare no expense for her return.

5) Prohibition - Double Dan is down on his luck. It most likely has something to do with always betting double or nothing. Having lost far more than he's won at the racetrack, he doesn't have an ever-loving dime in pocket. Not a plug nickel. Or a wooden one for that matter. After a really bad loss at Saratoga, he hoofs it to Buffalo in the hopes of placing a last bet that'll save his neck. Only, not having the scratch to place any more bets, he is forced to roam the streets and avoid being picked up by the gendarmes. When a young lady dressed to the nines is attacked in the alley he's sleeping in, he comes to her aid. Turns out, this doll is the widow of a pretty high roller, and she now owns a little speakeasy that is also down on its luck. A rival gang is making things tough for her, and she needs whomever she can get to help turn the tide. (This is sort of a cross between the webcomic Lackadaisy and the stories of Damon Runyon.)

Saving Anna

(Laughing) Relax! If you want to shelve this one for now, that's fine, too!

But either way, the question remains the same: was there a different rp that you wanted to work on, then?

Saving Anna

That's hardly a reason to be mad! I will of course admit to disappointment (the details of the bedroom scene were going to come back to haunt both of them later.) That being said, I would far rather you be honest about things than to guilt you into going on with a story that just no longer held your interest!

(Laughing) Although I have to admit, I wish I had read this before I just finished replying!

Did you have ideas for another RP already?

Never Lose Your Hat!

Jötz could only watch in a mix of horror and annoyance as she climbed the tree and crawled out upon the limb for a better view. The Jaeger could only shake his head in frustration as he leaned against the ruin of the wall to wait for her to do... whatever the hell it was she thought she was doing. Most people thought Jaegerkin incapable of retreating. This was patently untrue! Jötz and his fellows had no problem with retreating when the situation called for it, because retreating meant you were falling back into a better tactical position; it was true that they would never be routed, however. A Jaeger who had no way out and knew it would just keep fighting on both for the thrill of it and because they never surrendered either. He had been perfectly fine with running away from the toads. Jötz had no real quarrel with them. Only now they were back at the site they had just retreated from, Ivy trying to covertly spy upon-

The sonic croak that interrupted his internal grumblings was truly titanic in nature, causing the wall he had been leaning against to crumbly away from the force of the reverberations. The falling tree trunk demolished the rest of the stone structure, leaving Jötz exposed and surprised as he faced what he could only assume was the mother of all blue, slimy, fanged toads. The creature let out another deafening bellow at the sight of him standing there wide-eyed in shock. This time it was Ivy who grabbed his hand to yank him away at a dead run from the enraged amphibian, and disorientated by the speed in which this had all just happened Jötz stumbled along after her until he finally found his footing.

Sure of his balance and speed once more, he scooped Ivy up over his shoulder while passing her the gun. Even as he sped along the swampy ground, he could hear the sound of the toad now following after them with little splishing splashing sounds as they hopped after at great speed. "I run! You fire!" he yelled to the girl as he dodged around a large boulder. He couldn't be sure at the speed with which he was running, but he thought it vaguely resembled a building's cornerstone. Had there been more structures here once? As interesting as the idea of building a town in the middle of a stinking fen was, the Jaeger was far more concerned with finding their way out of the swamp and away from these creatures. It was hard to tell which direction there were headed in. The canopy of thick willow and elm trees prevented him from seeing the starts to help guide them; with luck, they wouldn't end up going in circles to end up back at Motorhum!

Saving Anna

James was not sure which puzzled him more: the conspicuous absence of blood from Anna's recent wounds or the alacrity with which she snatched up her purse to dump it contents out across the bed. What was she looking for? Only when she deftly grabbed the small pocket knife to flick its blade out and score her arm, he winced. It was only a small knife, true, but he had honed it to razor sharpness for her and watching her tender flesh part beneath that keen edge was somehow more terrifying than anything else he had experience that night. Considering he was dead, that was saying something. He had no real memory of his death or of the events that had followed, true, only his world view was that the mass murder of a hundred and some people should outweigh the shock of seeing a girl gash her arm open out of love. Should. It didn't.

At first principles, Anna's idea had merit. Her blood was gone, and he had become ever so slightly more tangible at the same time as its disappearance. The sight of his love now offering up her life's blood from a self-inflicted wound made him grimace and lean away, grimacing at the very thought that she would hurt herself for him. That, and even though something was tugging at his memory, it seemed like something out of a turgid vampire novella. "What?" he gasped in horror his hands held out before him in protest, "Am I supposed to drink that or..."

Through his fear and disgust, James could feel the cold in him stir. It was the first thing he could claim he truly felt at all, the rise of his essence as the warm, bright blood called out to him. It was then that the folktales he'd read in the town library answered his confusion. His crack about vampires hadn't been all that far off, he realized. Vampires and other undead creatures craved blood not for sustenance to fill their bodies but to steal life back. Only living things truly bled and the restless dead sought out that precious vitae to push away the cold and gain even just a memory of life. Japanese ghosts were almost always described as hungry. In Caribbean cultures and spiritual practices, the spirits of the dead were summoned with rum, candy and blood. Even in badly scripted movies and cheap fantasy novels, blood sacrifices brought spirits to life and called forth gods and demons alike. In his rational and logical mindset, James had always dismissed these notions as literary gimmicks or quaint cultural stories to be read for amusement. Now, with the input of this new and very personal data, he began to make the connections.

He reached out tentatively to lay what he perceived of as his fingers upon her arms, the ghostly tips dipping into the oozing blood. A touch that began gingerly soon became very, very solid. The heat of it rushed in to fill that core of cold that was central to his current existence. It was more than warmth; it was pleasure. Pleasure at feeling alive again, even if only for a few precious moments. The bleeding quickly stopped as his incorporeal form sopped it eagerly, leaving her arm clean if cut. James could sense that the warmth he had been granted would not last long, that he would quickly revert back to being intangible save at her will. How long did he have? Minutes? Seconds? More importantly, was there any food to be had, for he found that just as had been portrayed in that idiotic pirate movie by Disney, he craved the taste of an apple or a even a drink of water! With nothing in sight, he looked down at the hotel sheets. Closing his eyes, he removed his fingers from her arm to lightly touch the fabric.

It was nothing more than cheap, mass produced cloth suitable only for hotels of dubious quality. The fabric was worn thin from use and thousands of washings and bleachings. In fact, he could smell the bleach faintly upon them still! It was a harsh, caustic odor that ate at the nose and wrinkled the brow and he LOVED it! Every single thread could be felt in that small circle beneath his forefinger. James could make out exactly how they were woven together, crossing over and around and it was GLORIOUS! This ragged, ill used sheet that in its time had no doubt been slept upon, eaten upon, screw upon, bled upon, shat upon, pissed upon was REAL, almost overwhelmingly so! Had he been still alive, he doubted he would have noticed or even cared about the sheet save for a faint hope it had been washed really well. Now that he was dead, he was realizing exactly how much the living took for granted.

It was only a few moments that passed before the sensation began to quickly fade. It didn't last nearly long enough, and in desperation James could only hope it lasted long enough for one quick thing: he looked up to lean in close to Anna, his lips finding hers hastily to snatch a loving kiss before he faded back into the cold oblivion of nothingness. The touch of his mouth upon hers vanished only a second after contact with her oh-so-soft lips, the smell of her making him heady even as smell vanished altogether. In that second, he savored the taste of her. He had never thought of people having taste before; not in regards to eating or devouring people, but moreover in the realization that just as people could smell or look or sound in such and such a way, they could also have a flavor to them that was uniquely their own.

And then it was gone. Even the memory of that precious, brief instant that had just occurred faded a little to make him wonder. James could only recall that she had a taste, the sheets had a smell and the blood had felt wondrous within him... but the details of it were gone. He simply knew these things existed now, as though he had read them in a book but never experience them. Only there was this yearning to feel them all again.

And more.

For now, though, James controlled himself. Sighing, he shook his head. "We're gonna need a lot more blood if that's going to work, Anna. Let's just... think on that a bit, alright?" With a pleading look, he held his hands out to her in supplication. "And please don't slice yourself up like that again without warning me first?"

'Cause I don't know what I'll do if you offer me more, Anna. The words were unspoken but hung in the air all the same.

Looking around the shattered remains of the hotel room, he pursed his lips as he steeled himself to keep calm. No doubt the hotel owners were not going to be happy come the morning. Not that he really cared himself, for after all there was little they could do to him. Only all of Anna's plans could be in jeopardy if they called the cops on her. Thinking of plans, he then asked, "So what now? Were you headed somewhere specific or did you have any ideas in mind?" He chuckled quietly as he surveyed the destruction. "I know we used to joke about all the places we'd run away to as kids: the circus, Disneyland, England, Alaska. Then there was that carrousel museum, the puppet show, the zoo. Ah... I'd rather skip that one church with all the skulls in Europe, if you don't mind though. Hits a little too close to home right now."

Never Lose Your Hat!

Working on replying now!

The Orphan's Wedding

To be honest? Your posting rate is absolutely perfect for me! I can't post every day (although the site is set as my homepage, so I'm always checking regardless.) So, please do not feel any guilt! Post at the rate you feel comfortable with. I'd rather a happy co-writer than a stressed one!