Mattchstick

Xcom RP; are the masses interested?

I've always wanted to try RPing an XCOM soldier and now I finally have the chance.

Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED

Allison Hawthorne

Location: City Hall

Time: Sunday, 7:30-ish PM

Dumping the plate and fork into a large trash can, Allison took another sip of the soft drink and worked her way across the room with Kriss in tow. He looked like a grumpy dog whose collar was one notch too tight. The knuckles on the hand holding the trauma bag had gone white. A voice reminded him that he was representing the SCVRS, which prompted him to stand up just a little straighter and loosen the muscles in his forehead, changing his face from a grimace to a blank slate.

The duo arrive shortly and were greeted by the blonde woman, who had ordered food from a shirtless waiter.

Hey, feel free. We not short are we Vika. Sorry about nearly walking into you!

I'm Marinalia Olympus, and this my sister Victoria, Ivans by thr bar.

Allison gave the lady a polite smile, which withered away quickly. The smell of fruit and alcohol on her breath was overwhelming. Worse that than, though, was the old familiar scent of her dad's favorite drink. It wasn't as prominent (she was probably rubbing shoulders with the drinker), but it was far more powerful. She gritted her teeth hard as she forced the smile back onto her face, though her free hand moved involuntarily to her stomach, which was beginning to constrict. Her face turned slightly red as she tried to find a way to inhale clean oxygen. She knew she only had a few seconds to pass off her behavior without being rude. Thinking quickly, she raised her glass to her lips, covered her nose with it, and took a good clean breath of soda-infused air before lowering it to her side again.

"Don't worry about it, I'm totally fine. Allison Hawthorne, at your service," she said with a slight bow of the head. The woman seemed to pay her reaction no mind and instead tapped Kriss on the shoulder.

"Hi, welcome to the Gala."

Kriss shriveled away from the touch. He did not like being touched. People are perfectly capable of communicating without poking one another with fingers. He let his German stubbornness take over and responded with a blank stare. Fortunately for the two of them, Marinalia soon excused herself to "fix a few things." Allison breathed a literal sigh of relief as the woman, and the cloud of alcohol surrounding her, turned and left. She looked over at Kriss, who gave her the same blank stare, and tried to think of something to say. It didn't matter. Kriss could already sense that she had regretted this decision and he latched onto it, amping up the guilt with a look of irritation. She turned back to see if Ashton was still present. The tall woman had already noticed them and was currently waving at them, as though she would have had any difficulty seeing her. Allison straightened up and lifted her chin. She wasn't going to let Kriss shut her down. Not this time. Chipping a smile back onto her face, she trotted carefully to the firefighter and her companions, one of whom looked particularly familiar.

"Hey... Someone get hurt you two? No injuries over here... Ones you can Fix anyway."

Allison hadn't realized Kriss was still carrying the medical bag. She glanced at him inquisitively and was met with the exact same indignant expression, causing her to turn back to the bar. Before she could respond to confirm that they were not here to patch someone up, Victoria spoke again.

"Who's your freind Alison? You take him dress shopping before this? Bars open if you want somthing stronger."

Her face turned a much more fierce shade of red than usual, and she stopped dead in her tracks as the comment hit her like a freight train. She was only 19. Her blood boiled silently at the suggestion, and she again found herself in a position where she had only seconds to reply before seeming rude.

"U...um..." she stammered. The fresh scent of alcohol from the bar washed over her, clouding her mind further. She chided herself strongly in her mind. Victoria didn't know she was 19. She was just being polite. She wouldn't have offered if she knew, right? Allison tried to calm herself and take a deep breath, realizing at the last moment that she would just be inhaling more alcohol. She would have to try using the glass again, but she already felt ridiculous from doing it once. She placed a hand on the bar to steady herself, then removed it, alarmed that she might be unintentionally signalling for a drink. She glanced at Ashton, hoping to find some kind of aid, but she appeared to be paying attention to Victoria now.

Despite his lack of expression, Kriss was actively reading the situation and he soon realized Allison was in serious trouble. She seemed to have stopped breathing. He considered letting her stew out of petty revenge, but he noted that, even with an open invitation, she still didn't want a hard drink. It dawned on him that if he answered Victoria's question and ended the conversation, Allison would never be allowed to make him interact with people at a party again. She would owe him. He stepped up beside Allison and looked Victoria dead in the eyes.

"I am Kriss. I shop for clothes on my own. Allison is not old enough to drink."

He paused as he noticed the beverage on the table in front of the woman. He scowled and dropped a final thought on her in a voice dripping with bitter sarcasm.

"Alcohol poisoning kills six people every day. I hope I do not have to come back to pick you up."

Without waiting for a response, he turned sharply towards the door and plodded away. Too shocked by the comment to speak, Allison followed him silently, walking backwards at first, then bumping into a chair, apologizing to no one, and slipping away. Too many thoughts were going through her head all at once and she was beginning to legitimately feel sick. They stopped at their table, where Allison collapsed into her chair and took a deep breath of cleaner air, coughing several times and holding her chest. Kriss watched her, mildly concerned that she might need medical attention, but it passed quickly. She set the glass carefully on the table as her face returned to a more natural color.

"I'm..." she said, her voice fading out as she stared at her glass. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dragged you over there."

"No, you should not have," he replied in a more neutral voice than before. She winced.

"I guess we should leave, huh?"

"Snap told me to keep an eye on things, so I will stay here." He looked at her disinterestedly. "You can leave if you want."

"Yeah, I..." she looked around again. "I shouldn't be here. My stepdad's gonna be so mad if he finds out I was at a gig with booze. I hope it doesn't stick to my clothes like it stuck to Mariana or whatever her name was."

"Marinalia."

"Yeah, that. Ugh, I'm such an idiot. I should have known." She rested her elbows on the table and sunk her head into her palms as her face turned red again. Her mom had a nose for alcohol too and would smell it before she got through the door. Frankly, she probably wouldn't live long enough for her stepdad to kill her.

--

@PrinceAlexus@Silver Fox

Project Crossover [Video Game Crossover RP]

Ruben Verislav
Level: 2 [1/20]
Day/Time: Day Three - Evening
Location: Forest of Skyrim
Tag: @Holy Soldier@Lugubrious@Zarkun@DracoLunaris
Word Count: 565

He hadn't really been expecting a favorable response for his comments, so the Boss's reaction was so surprising that Ruben found himself unable to respond. Apparently speaking his mind was not only permitted but encouraged here. It was all a bit foreign, but then again this was not an XCOM unit. Everyone here was an independent individual from their own land. Back there, things must be different. Hopefully they were not also engaged in a global war against an invading alien force that threatened to destroy humanity. Even if one of the members wasn't human.

This would also mark the first time he was offered a high-five by a figure of authority, but with all the strangeness so far it almost seemed appropriate, though he wouldn't consider his observations to merit such a response. Wordlessly, he raised his hand and returned the five, returning it immediately to his weapon. He suddenly remember the laser rifle on his back and wondered for the first time how he would deliver it to Dr. Vahlen. He doubted the main hub had a radio system that could travel through universes, but who knew? He arrived here by portal. Maybe another could be opened, assuming there was enough down time between operations.

The Boss went ahead and clarified, again, that they would not be investigating the secondary objective. Under his command, at least. He braced himself for the obligatory circle of feedback from the other three, none of whom seemed happy about the decision the boss had already made.

Azura was more tame in her response than he had anticipated, though he sensed the jab at his role in the party. Though he maintained a stoic appearance, internally he shrugged it off. He had questioned her and she had questioned him. Fair enough. It certainly wasn't worth getting into a spat over. Vent was a bit more aggressive, reminding everyone (again) that they knew nothing about the Greybeards. One would think by now that this was a good reason to avoid them entirely, but he took the opposite stance, which was based entirely on...fantasy novels? Was he serious? His entire line of thinking for sending someone away was based on fantasy literature. Whatever world he was from, it was rather lax on what qualified as a good reason.

A large portion of his retort was in regard to the Boss for incorrectly calling him a robot. As a result, Ruben made a mental note to avoid doing so. Direct insults that wouldn't lead to any kind of improvement were pointless. Azura's inability to prove assistance could be changed. The boy's humanness could not. Unfortunately, Vent did not have the same mindset. Sad and pathetic? To follow orders as a soldier is to just do your job, even if the orders get you into what you may consider a bad situation. Piper followed suit with a word of warning, one that he had not heard before. It was a bit sharp, but she seemed to mean well, almost as if it was from experience. He didn't hold it against her and, when the time came for him to speak again, he ultimately chose to refrain from responding to any of them.

Vent and Piper excused themselves and Ruben wondered if he should follow. Rather than making a snap decision, though, he turned his head to the Boss and waited for instructions.

Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED

Allison Hawthorne

Location: City Hall

Time: Sunday, 7:30-ish PM

Allison sat quietly, idly drumming her fingers on the table as she waited for Kriss to get back. He hadn't said where he was going. Maybe he needed to make a phone call or something. The table shifted suddenly as it was nudged by a young woman with long blonde hair.

Sorry about that. Distracted, Lovely dress by the way, have a good evening.

"Oh, thanks! You have a nice evening too, uhh..." she said cheerfully, attempted to call her by name even though she didn't know it. Allison frowned as the other lady slipped away. That was a wasted opportunity to meet someone new.

She glanced around again at the mass of people and noticed for the first time just how much alcohol was running at this party. Her nose wrinkled and she suddenly felt very out of place. She didn't need EMT training videos to shy her away from booze. Her memory of being in the hospital at the age of 4 was so vivid that it still gave her nightmares. The beeping of machines, the hardness of the bed, and the burning. The horrible burning in her throat. Her father had finally decided to spend some time interacting with his daughter for once in his life. He wasn't drunk, which just made it worse, because somewhere in his mind he thought it was a good idea to give his 4-year-old a shot of whiskey. Even though she threw up (and threw up again at the hospital), the doctor had said she was extremely fortunate to be alive. If they hadn't been able to revive her from unconsciousness, she would have been dead in less than a day.

Even now, thanks to her father's love of variety, she could identify several different substances by smell alone all the way from her table. Scotch, rum, and whisky were the most notable. The clear liquid in the glass at the next table were probably vodka. She glanced down at Kriss's water glass and for a moment wondered if it was actually water. She didn't smell anything, but hard vodka is odorless, and this place certainly looked like it could afford the best. Now curious, she lifted the glass to her nose and sniffed. To her relief, it was water.

"Why are you smelling my drink?"

She jumped in surprise, turning to see Kriss standing awkwardly nearby. A trauma bag was hanging from his fist. She carefully lowered the glass to the table and raised an eyebrow at the bag.

"Did someone get hurt?"

"You did not answer my question."

Allison looked away, embarrassed. She could sense Kriss's irritation and knew that he was not going to let this go until she answered. She sighed.

"I was wondering if you were drinking vodka."

He scowled. "Yes, that is what I suspected you were doing. I am not drinking alcohol."

"I know, I was just..." she trailed off, returning eye contact and offering an apologetic face. "Sorry. Honestly. There are just a lot of drunk people here, and...I wanted to make sure."

"I do not drink," he said, lowering himself into his chair and plopping the bag on the ground. "It is unhealthy."

"Yeah, me either. Alcohol brings out the monster in people," she said, rubbing her stomach. The scent in the air was starting to turn her stomach. Kriss noticed and pointed in the direction of a buffet table.

"There is a buffet table if you are hungry."

She perked up immediately. "Oh, awesome! I'm gonna grab a plate."

Without another word, she hopped up and began carefully making her way through the crowd. Snippets of dialogue made their way through the air with varying degrees of slurred speech and grunts of discomfort. She sighed quietly to herself. Her stepdad would kill her if he knew she was at a party with booze. Hopefully the perfume would help counteract it. Snatching up a plate and plastic fork, Allison helped herself to about as much food as she could lift. Her mother teased her frequently about how she could each so much food and seem to not gain a pound. Metabolism is apparently magical. She jabbed the fork into a bread roll and trotted carefully to a less occupied bar, taking a deep breath before approaching.

"Do you have soda?"

He nodded and directed her to a soda fountain. She filled a wine glass with as much Coca Cola as it could hold and left, letting out a huge breath. There had only been one man at the bar, but he was still drunk enough to shoot a rather immature comment her way. She brushed it off and returned to Kriss, who had refilled and re-iced his glass. He noticed her holding a glass of wine and narrowed his eyes until she lowered it to the table to reveal the carbonation bubbling along the top. The two sat in silence for a while as Allison set about emptying her plate. She looked around the room again and perked up.

"Ashton is here!" The woman was wearing a different outfit, but her hair and figure made her impossible to mistake.

"Yes," Kriss replied, having already noticed.

"You should go say hi."

"I would rather not."

Allison rolled her eyes. "Ugh, Kriss, I know you don't really care, but it's better than sitting and doing nothing. Snap would not approve."

"Snap is not here."

"She's with us in spirit," she said dramatically.

"I sincerely doubt it," Kriss responded with even less enthusiasm.

"Come on," Allison said, standing up and nodding towards Ashton. She had missed the chance to speak to the woman earlier and wasn't about to let another opportunity go by. "We're gonna go say hi."

"No, we are not."

She dropped her plate on the table and crossed her arms.

"You wanna sit there and argue, or you wanna go talk to someone for a change?"

Her tone grated on him and he felt his brow furrow in disapproval. "Neither."

"Okay fine, we'll compromise. I'll do the talking. You just stand there and look uncomfortable."

"Why would I do that when I could sit here and look uncomfortable?"

"Think of it as exercise. UP!" she barked, putting a slight edge on her voice to suggest she was not going to debate this. He gritted his teeth, then dragged himself into a standing position. Snap would probably want a report of the evening and he would get an earful if she found out he hadn't talked to a single person. Maybe she'd lay off if he did. Though he wasn't going to give Allison the satisfaction of his approval. She collected her plate and still half-full wine glass of coke and headed into the crowd. Sighing in frustration, he tagged along at a safe distance.

--

@PrinceAlexus@Silver Fox

Puzzle/Escape Room RP with multiple rooms and teamwork.

@CollectorOfMyst Actually the first one is supposed to be like Portal. And yeah, I just forgot to add an appearance slot.

Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED

KRISS MAUSER

LOCATION: CITY HALL

TIME: APPROX. 7:30 PM

The last hour and a half had passed very, very slowly as Kriss sat quietly at a table and waited for Allison to arrive. He had fetched himself a glass of ice water just so he had something to look at. A few people nodded in his direction or commented on his uniform and badge. One or two even thanked him for being on hand. He had responded with a nod and monotone word of thanks each time. Someone had paused to ask him if he was alright, since he had been sitting alone staring at an empty glass, but he assured them he was fine. He couldn't resist a grimace as they left. Like they really cared. The alcohol had been flowing freely and already some were beginning to slur their speech and grip their chair to keep their balance. He ran over SOP for alcohol poisoning and concussions. If any of them made it on stage and attempted to dance, he would probably need to lend a hand. Maybe even apply a bandage or two.

Speaking of bandages, the nearest trauma bag was out by the edge of the road. He wondered if it was appropriate to carry a first aid kit into a gala and place it on a chair. A quick glance around the room confirmed that many people here would be too drunk to care in the first place, and frankly it didn't bother him if they were offended at all. He was a paramedic. He could carry his kit with him if he wanted to. Mind made up, he stood and walked to the front door, where he nearly bumped into a woman in a dark floral dress.

"Excuse me," he muttered, sliding past and heading for the exit.

"Um, excuse me, Kriss," he heard a familiar voice say over his shoulder. He turned and found himself facing Allison, though it wasn't the Allison he knew from the squad. Allison the EMT was a clumsy, cheery girl with a goofy sense of humor. The woman in front of him was prim and elegant, with just a hint of pride. She narrowed her shadowed eyes at him and unslung her purse, holding it in front of her in both hands so that the lights glinted off her silver bracelet. She was otherwise free of jewelry, but the air of power about her more than compensated. Her heels elevated her to eye level with him, and she lifted her chin with a frown of disapproval.

"It's rude to shove a lady aside," she said sternly, moving one of her hands to her waist. For the first time, Kriss felt small near her. She may not have been physically taller or stronger, but she outclassed him ten to one. A long moment passed as he tried to find a proper response. She was silent, but her stare gave the firm impression that he was supposed to apologize.

"I apologize."

The girl scowled, her eyes growing even colder. Kriss was suddenly concerned that she might physically attack him. He was on the verge of backing away when, to his total surprise, the scowl vanished and Allison threw her head back in laughter.

"You...you looked like you were going to pass out!" she said, giggling and placing a hand over her mouth. "Oh, Kriss, you should see the look on your face."

She laughed again, carefully wiping tears from the edges of her eyes and placing a hand against her stomach to try and compose herself. Her face burned red, slightly embarrassed at the scene she was creating.

"Honestly, Kriss, you take everything so seriously. Lighten up a little!"

The familiar smile was back, and the hand on her hip now made her look cocky rather than indignant. She tossed the purse back over her shoulder and looked around.

"Wow, this place is hopping. Sorry I'm late, I just was busy being an airhead. Did I miss anything important?"

Kriss blinked a few times, still trying to process what had just occurred. Allison made a face, then stepped closer and snapped a finger in front of his eyes.

"Hell-ooo, Earth to Kriss, is anyone in there?"

He shook his head, bringing himself back into focus. The color returned to his face, as did his look of irritation.

"That was unkind."

"Yup. Totally worth it, though," she chirped, grinning.

"Snap will not be joining us tonight."

"Yeah, she texted me," Allison replied, tapping her purse. "Oh hey, do you like my purse? I seriously almost drove off and left it in my bedroom. Pretty bad, huh?"

"Yes."

"You're so mean," she said flatly. "Which table is ours?"

He winced, then nodded in the direction of his seat, which was still empty.

"I will be back in a moment," he said, turning and vacating the building. Allison watched him leave, then spun around, flipping her hair back behind her shoulder, and strutted over to his place. Fortunately, the empty glass seemed to have scared away others, and she happily claimed an adjacent seat, setting her purse gently on the table and watching the faces go by.

Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED

KRISS MAUSER

LOCATION: CITY HALL

TIME: 6 PM

The trio had met at Snap's Camaro as the race concluded. Snap had been eager to pose nearby and talk cars with anyone passing by. They had decided to split up and meet back at the squad. Kriss had taken the opportunity to go and get a quick meal and refuel the ambulance. He had returned to his spot on the couch in the lounge long before Snap arrived with Allison in tow.

"So did you have fun?" the CO had asked. Allison had smiled and nodded. Kriss had done neither.

"Alright, well the gala is next. It's a formal occasion, so please dress nice."

"Is a squad uniform acceptable evening wear?" Kriss had asked dryly.

"If you have a suit, wear it. If not, fine. Allison, do you have evening wear at home?"

"Yep!"

"You're dismissed, then. Go get changed and meet us at the city hall. I'm going to go home too. Kriss, meet us there around 6."

Kriss was a punctual individual. He was at the gala, with the ambulance, in his cleanest set uniform (pressed polo, pressed black dress pants, black leather shoes), along with his SCVRS badge, which was now pinned to the front of his shirt. He never wore it, but hopefully it would satisfy Snap, since he didn't have a suit. Well, technically, he did. Unfortunately, it was at his parents' home, and he wasn't going to drop in just to pick it up. He had parked along the edge of the road and was seated at the nearest table to the door, patiently awaiting for Snap to arrive so he could avoid interacting with the crowd, which was rapidly growing. He felt his phone buzz a single time in his pocket. He slid it out of his pocket and glanced at the tiny front screen.

[New Message!]

Kriss flipped the phone open and selected the message. It was from Snap.

Kriss. Can't make it tonight. Just you and Allison. Keep an eye on things. -Snap

He gritted his teeth. Snap had set him up. She really was going the extra mile to make Kriss interact with society. Apparently she was not above ditching him at a party. Irritated, he closed the phone and stuffed it back in his pocket, glancing vaguely in the direction of the main entrance. What exactly what she expecting him to do? Talk to people? Already uneasy, he folded his hands on the table and sighed. This was going to be a long night.

---

Allison Hawthorne

Location: Apartment

Time: Sunday, 4 PM

"Mom, I'm home!" Allison called, opening the front door and tossing her keys onto a nearby hook. She was greeted by a grey cat, who purred briefly and brushed her leg. She scooped him up and headed for her room, passing through the rest of the flat on the way. No one was home. She scowled, rubbing the cat's head and checking the fridge for information. A handwritten note has been attached to the door with a magnet. Apparently her mother was working tonight. Initially she had been a stay-at-home mom who wanted to focus on caring for her daughter, but the rent had increased and Allison was responsible enough to take care of herself now, so she had taken on a part-time job. Her stepdad was off work, but he had been invited to a get-together race day celebration by an old friend. It was a "guy's night," but he had extended the invitation to Allison anyway. She had declined.

"Oooooh, it's so quiet, isn't it?" she asked the cat in a sing-song voice. "Poor baby, all alone at home. And I'm going out to a party, so you're gonna be alone again. Don't worry, mommy will be home in a little while."

She dropped the cat onto her bed and stretched her back with a grunt.

"Ugh, Snap needs to get a new front seat for that car," she said out loud to no one. "Alright, I better get a shower. Wait, I already got a showed earlier. Do I need another one? That race track was pretty grimy and I-" she lifted the bottom of her shirt and sniffed it. "I smell like an exhaust pipe. Or maybe it's just the shirt. But if I shower now, and something happens at the party, I'm gonna have to take a third one when I get home, UGGHHHH."

She groaned, tilting her head back and staring at the ceiling dramatically. The cat cocked its head and meowed at her. She twisted her head in return and frowned.

"Yeah, but my dress clothes are all clean and I don't want to make them smell bad if I smell bad. Alright, hang on."

An hour and a half passed as Allison constructed an outfit. It turned out that it was (mostly) just the shirt, so she decided to wait until returning home to shower again. Fortunately, her evening wear selection was limited. After a long discussion with the cat, she decided on a floral midi dress, complete with white two-inch heels and a thin silver bracelet. Satisfied, she grabbed her purse and posed dramatically in front of her bedroom mirror.

"What do you think?" she said, spinning around and placing her hands on her hips with a wide smile. The cat blinked slowly at her, then stretched and jumped off the bed. She giggled and ruffled the fur on his head.

"Thanks so much! Are you gonna be okay by yourself?" she asked, applying just enough perfume to mask the hint of smoke that still clung to her. The cat meowed and gave her a dirty look. She was using the sing-song voice again and it irritated him. Allison picked him up and cuddled him for a moment, then returned him to the floor.

"Wish me luck!" she called, grabbing the keys and heading out. The cat watched the door close, then turned to look at the purse Allison had left on the floor nearby. If anyone needed luck, it was her.

Puzzle/Escape Room RP with multiple rooms and teamwork.

It's been a while since I've seen a mystery/puzzle RP with rooms and lateral thinking, so I'm considering making one.

Basic Unoriginal Premise

You wake up in a strange place with no memory of arriving. You find yourself among strangers, also lacking any knowledge of their whereabouts. A voice echoes out around the group of you announcing the beginning of a rather unorthodox experiment, with words of warning and encouragement. Ahead of you stands a single unmarked door, waiting to be opened...

OR

You were warned not to enter the strange house. An abandoned mansion, it is the pinnacle of ghost stories and eerie rumors. You and your companions were told to stay away, but you knew better. It was too exciting, too mysterious to be avoided. One day, you meet together to properly explore the place and put the rumors to rest. However, once you are all inside, the door slams closed behind you and locks tight. You see a note on a table in front of you that describes the house, with words of warning and encouragement. Ahead of you stands a single unmarked door ahead, waiting to be opened...

Basic Concept

This is essentially a group puzzle solving experiment, but with a threat of danger, more interaction, and some bizarre humor. Everyone is a simple human with no weapons or special abilities. I will provide details and directions in GM posts, so I will not be RP'ing a character. I'm going to shake things up a bit by giving everyone an inventory, which I will keep updated in the 0th IC post and in GM posts. I'm planning on making it more abstract and silly than serious and gritty, so don't expect continuity between rooms. Some might have no gravity. Some might turn you into animals. The premise is just a way to get everyone to the location. CS sheets will be pretty simple. Character development is not important, but interaction is.

The game with have an underlying story. I have a few ideas below. I will have a conclusion determined before starting the RP.

-If we go with the Sci-fi route, it will probably be collecting items and assembling them, or something to that effect. That'll be simpler, but that's not always a bad thing.
-If we go with the mansion one, it will probably be solving a murder, possibly with some characters being a factor. That'll give it more depth but it will depend more heavily on everyone being active.

To make this work, I'm going to need a Co-GM to help design puzzles and manage activity. If you are interested, PM me. You will need to be creative and committed for this to work. You'll also RP a character, so that you can guide other players in the right direction if they need help, rather than giving everyone a "Hints" option from the GM.

The only thing I know for certain is that the RP will have a maximum of five players, Co-GM included. Large groups just do not work well for this kind of thing. However, If you want to participate but five have already shown interest, go ahead and post anyway. You never know when someone may decide to drop out early. If I end up with too many, I'll announce a launch date and ping everyone when the OOC goes up. First five to post (including Co-GM) are in.

Potential CS

Appearance: (photos of realple only)
Name:
Gender:
Age: (18-30 for the sci-fi one, 12-19 for the mansion)
Personality: (2-3 sentences, or 2-3 bullet points. Just a feel for what your character is like)
Bio: (Optional. 3 paragraph maximum)
Dialogue color: (This is just for fun, and to make tracking inventory easier)

Aight that's it. Feedback is open.

RPGC #17: Singing in the Rain - Prompt and Entries

So each cloud has a silver lining? Okay, good enough.

Silver Linings

"Huh, so it begins again," a certain man said aloud to no one as he stood on the sidewalk and glanced up at the sky. The gentle blue was being rapidly hidden by grey and black clouds, signalling the start of yet another rain storm. For you see, it was always raining here. The Sunless City, some called it. Statistically, it was very much like any other modern city; dense buildings, costly housing, and terrible traffic at certain hours of the day. It would have been a decent enough place to live if not for the weather. Some liked the rain. Some did not. Almost none liked it for at least three hundred days every year. Take into account the lightning strikes and occasionally power outages, it was not a very happy place to live, and more than a few struggled with retaining happiness.

The man on the sidewalk was not one such person. He saw past the clouds to the cheery sun that was still glowing overhead, and anyone within earshot would invariable hear a "silver lining" to whatever situations and storms had come on that particular day. Not a single thing had happened in his life that he had not found a way to look over or around to it eventually dissipating.

He was not a particularly fortunate man at that. He was merely a blue-collar worker with a simple job, one that he had retained for going on forty years. He lived alone in a small house with just enough income to pay the rent and feed himself, yet he managed to stay positive. This was a trait that had followed him from the womb, since his name was, of all things, Bartholomew Goodheart.

Anyway, dear Bartholomew had been on a morning stroll to enjoy a rare sunny day. There were still puddles and dripping eaves, but at least the glinting rays gave the water a lovely golden shimmer. He had glanced up at the bright blue expanse with a twinkle in his eye and had given it a proper smile.

"Huh, a good bit of sun in the city. Pleasant change, it is," he said in his strange form of speak. As usual, a passerby gave him a strange look for a moment before continuing on their way, phone pressed to ear as they engaged in a bitter conversation. Bartholomew watched them pass, then shrugged his shoulders.

"Ah well, there's a silver lining. At least the man is being productive. More so than myself, I should say."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the clouds began to return to their place. The man audibly grumbled as he attempted to open an umbrella without hanging up his phone.

"Ah well, at least ye have an umbrella," Bartholomew called to him, showing the man his empty hands. All he had was a brown leather jacket and ragged pants, as he had left his own umbrella at home. The other fellow rolled his in a most rude manner and scurried away. The first of many raindrops splattered the shoulder of his jacket as he began to walk back across town. He had traveled some distance, you see, and was not within running distance of his place of residence, and so he did not bother. He hummed a tune that was almost impossible to hear, now that the rain was in full force.

"Ah well, at least there's no lightning," he said.

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a brilliant bolt of electricity flashed across the sky, soon accompanied by a deep roar of thunder.

"Ah well, at least it's air-lightning," he said.

A moment later, a similar bolt flickered through the sky, drawn to a rod on a nearby building. It crackled loudly, causing him to wince ever so slightly.

"Ah well, at least we have the lightning-poles to keep it away from the ground," he said, increasing his pace.

To his surprise, a third bolt of lightning tore its way through the air and hit a nearby street lamp, causing the bulb to for a fraction of a second glow brightly before bursting into a shower of glass fragments.

"Ah well," Bartholomew said after a long pause, making a turn and heading into the last straight towards his residence. "At least I'm within eye-shot of home and heat."

He jumped as a car zoomed by him, swerving across the road and, to no one's surprise but his own, crashed directly into his house. A large portion of the car was now occupying his living room. The engine came to an abrupt halt and, with a grunt, the driver shoved the door open and climbed out, apparently unharmed. Bartholomew nodded at him in approval.

"Ah well, at least the driver's not hurt."

The driver looked down at his stomach, turned very pale, and collapsed dead on the pavement. Bartholomew stood still for a moment, then shrugged.

"Ah well, at least the car can be towed. Shan't be an easy repair but it's only a building after all."

A quiet crackle came from the vehicle as a loose wire in Bartholomew's home sparked, making contact with the gaseous fumes that had been spilling into his house from the now empty tank beneath the car. With a brilliant glow that would make the sun ever so slightly jealous, the house erupted in flames.

At this point, one would likely stop pressing their fate and perhaps seek shelter elsewhere. Bartholomew Goodheart was no such man. Absolutely refusing to turn aside his stance from five or six consecutive coincidences, he spoke again:

"Ah well, at least I've got a little money in me pocket."

"Oh?" a harsh voice said beside him. He turned and found himself facing a man in a hoodie who had just emerged from a nearby alleyway. He had covered half his face with a scarf and was wielding a rather large pistol that was aimed in the direction of Mr. Goodsoul's head.

"Hand it over. Now."

Bartholomew raised his hands in surrender, then slowly removed his wallet and tossed it to the man, who scooped it up and shoved it into a pocket. He turned to retreat into the alley as a voice called to him.

"Ah well, at least I've got good health."

The robber turned back around in surprise, still waving the gun haphazardly. He was a rather inexperienced sort of robber and, as a result, did not have the safety engaged. He shot Bartholomew in the leg, causing him to collapse to the ground in a poorly-placed puddle. Wincing in pain and grabbing the injured limb, Bartholomew searched his mind for a good thing to find about this situation. He admitted that he was running short on them by now. The robber was still standing nearby in shock, seemingly unsure of whether he should run or call for help before his victim bled to death. Bartholomew caught sight of him and forced a smile.

"Ah well," he said weakly. "At least I've only been shot once."

The robber shot him again for, at this point, no real reason. Somewhere deep inside Bartholomew, an organ exploded.

Aware that he likely only had minutes to live, the poor man uttered one final positive observation. One that absolutely could not be altered. One that was so conclusive that it was at this point in history no more than a joke.

"Ah well...at least...Hitler is dead."

The robber paused, then lowered his gun and removed his hood and scarf. Bartholomew's eyes widened in shock as he saw a familiar cut of hair and mustache, one that had not been seen for many years. The man grinned an evil grin, staring him down with dark, sinister eyes. He said the last word Bartholomew Goodheart would ever hear:

"NEIN!"

Empty City

Concept seems intriguing, but...

Picture of a real person I even allow face claims of stars

Name

Age

And a Novel of your character’s daring deeds, flights of fancy or a description of height or weight.

This seems a bit too barebones if there's going to be any kind of exploration or combat, or activity at all for that matter. If nothing else I'd rather list out my character's story, perks, flaws, etc. by bullet point rather than sunk into a novel. It makes referencing much simpler for myself and other players.

Just knowing what my character looks like and how old they are, like in your current CS, isn't enough to work with. I can find out all that information the first time my character meets yours.

Also, I'd advise caution with open-world freedom. I would recommend having some kind of underlying objective (talk to this person, go to this place, do this sort of task) so that, when we are done wandering around, we have someplace to go to advance the story.