Ocelot79

Backrooms: The Thing that Breathes

Lucas thought that he had been in an accident and was knocked out. The room he was in was nonsensical, and made him feel sick. He stopped and tried to recall what had happened before and after arriving at the daycare, trying to pinpoint the exact time he must have been knocked out. He knew that the daycare wasn't normal that day, but none of the events that had transpired beforehand were anything out of the ordinary. Moreover, this wasn't feeling like a dream in the first place. Everything was too vivid and life-like for it to be a dream.

The pool in front of him was a bizarre sight and added to the unease of being in that room. The room itself was warm, an indication that the water below wasn't freezing cold or perhaps that there was heating somewhere close to him. Yet he couldn't spot the source of the heat. It made no sense because the daycare was never that warm or damp, it was as if he was in a completely different place altogether. Combined with the dark tunnel across, the room gave the feeling that it was an abandoned area somewhere underground. Even the light that was coming from the windows seemed artificial. For a moment, he thought that this was all an elaborate prank, but this wouldn't explain how he went through corridors within the daycare to arrive at this place. The hallways were too lengthy and too straight to fit in that building or even within an entire building square.

What seemed like a strange dream immediately turned into a nightmare when he heard his daughter's voice coming out of a stuffed doll. Lucas looked at the doll, completely stunned and unable to understand what he was perceiving. Surely his daughter's voice couldn't be originating from there, and then why was he hearing his daughter in the first place?

Baffled and infuriated at the same time, he leaned closer towards the pool of water, trying to understand what he was looking at. The place was making him sick and he would prefer not to get down there and swim towards a dark tunnel if he could avoid it. It was obvious that his daughter was not in the room, even if he could hear her voice. After some thought he moved away from the ladder and picked up the plastic bag and the bracelet, which seemed just as out of place. He then walked towards the door with the exit sign.

Backrooms: The Thing that Breathes

Lucas Acosta

Lucas Acosta

40 years old | Male | 10th of July | 181cm/5.94 feet | 81kg/178 pounds

Maria | 5 | Female

Personality:

Lucas in known to be cool headed and, to a degree, stoic. He deals with difficult situations one step of the time, always avoiding unnecessary drama. He can be somewhat impatient and arbitrary at times. Generally an extrovert, he doesn't shy away from social events.

Phobias/Fears:

Lucas has two prominent phobias; thalassophobia and trypophobia. He is afraid of being drowned as well as thinking about the ocean depths. He is a good swimmer, but would rather go to the pool than go fishing. Trypophobia refers to the fear of looking at objects with multiple small holes. Although not as prominent as thalassophobia, it's still something he'd rather never have to see. None of these phobias have affected his life adversely so far, as he lives in the city and he hasn't swam since he was a child.

Other than that, he is afraid of spiders, dying in his sleep and failing at his job/being unemployed. Although these fears aren't full-blown phobias, he has had nightmares about them before, mostly with him dying on his bed or being unable to breathe while sleeping.

History:

Born and raised in San Antonio, Texas, Lucas is the child of two Mexican immigrants who came to the country during the 70s. He has led a rather unremarkable life, having worked in various fields before finding a more stable job in the sales department of a small company based in San Antonio. He had been working there since the age of 32, married a year later, and had his first child, Maria, at the age of 35. His life had taken a turn for the better the last decade and he was finally feeling like all was good with the world.

A few days after his 40th birthday, Lucas went to the daycare to pick up his child. Even though he had been at the daycare many times before, this was the first time no one was there to greet him. While still confused by the eerie silence in the daycare, Lucas heard the scream of his own daughter. He quickly rushed towards the origin of the sound, but couldn't find anyone. At some point he realized that this wasn't the daycare and he wasn't walking towards anything in particular. He stopped for a brief moment, completely baffled with the situation he was in. It felt like a dream.

Skills:

* Good spacial awereness
* Decent strength and stamina, despite his age
* Excellent vision and all around good perception.

Inventory:

* A pen
* A wallet with money, cards, photos

Backrooms: The Thing that Breathes

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Backrooms: The Thing that Breathes

I'm interested.

Beware: Incoming Nerd!

Welcome back!

The Black Undeath

@ArkmageddonCat I'm not planning to make a post right now, so don't wait for me. I'll post again right after the next one.

The Black Undeath

Edric Rane, Cartelom

Just like most buildings in Cartelom, the Lord's Keep had seen better days. From the outside, it was giving a sense of abandonment, as if it was vacant and weathered, yet it was still standing strong. Cartelom as a whole was rotting away, with priorities set elsewhere. In a way, the keep symbolized the city, where progress had been halted but the final verdict on whether they'd be allowed to resume normal life was not given out yet. Edric was one of the last to enter but everyone inside was still waiting for Captain Hannigan to appear.

If there was something that made Edric feel old, it was the people in the hall. As if his country wasn't detached enough from the western provinces, the twelve years he'd been in exile rendered his remaining knowledge of "western" nobility nearly useless. Cartelom was much closer to his homeland than the countries he'd been, yet he felt he was the furthest he'd ever been. But he wasn't the only foreigner in the room, judging from appearances. People of all ranks and sizes were present. Some were clearly nobles, others not so much. A few seemed trustworthy, while others seemed like cannon fodder for the so-called undead hordes. Most were younger than him, but the difference in age didn't bother him. What worried him the most was how this sense of duty that motivated these people to be there would play out on the battlefield.

Formerly a member of a powerful mercenary, Edric knew that a thousand disciplined men could best a disorganized army of ten thousand. If the undead were as numerous as everyone was saying, they'd need this kind of discipline to avoid getting overpowered. But would inexperienced volunteers or self-centered nobles hold the line and die if they were ordered to? Would front-liners maintain their position against a rampaging horde ten times their size? For one, these people had no uniformity, as each and every one of them had their own equipment, their own weapons and, most importantly, their own goals and motivations. That could be catastrophic in an event where sacrifices would have to be made.

Edric was no better, he knew that. His goal was to reunite with his family or, if fate had it otherwise, find out how they died. And maybe find out if his people were still alive somewhere westwards of home. In any case, he wasn't planning on perishing in Rhogain defending the living, at least not yet. Casting his cynicism aside, he finally considered the silver lining of the situation. The Lord's keep only seemed abandoned from the outside.

The Black Undeath

@ArkmageddonCat

I'm going to make a post until Wednesday. Was busy this weekend.

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

Bloody zombies everywhere

The Black Undeath

Edric Rane, Cartelom

The partial absence of the sun made the already grim atmosphere even worse. Headaches were plaguing Edric, who was still not used to the bone-pinching cold or to the damp and dark reality of his new home. The sun was rising, except it wasn't, a new day was coming except it was going to be more of the same. The bland marshes beyond the city welcomed no one, as if they were tired of all life. Was this place always like that?

Hope was a powerful force. Edric knew that better than most. Being forced to seek unknown lands and endeavors, having to travel to mysterious lands that didn't necessarily accept him for what he was, hope was essential in keeping him from losing his identity. But not everyone understood it's importance. The people of Cartelom were struggling, but they did not believe in a better future, they didn't envision it. That much was clear to Edric. Struggling would keep them alive, for now, but it would not be enough if they were to rebuild again in the future. The undead were strugglers and much better that, having laid waste to most of civilization in that part of the world within a short period of time. From his point of view, something more was needed if they were to overcome this profound crisis.

Gearing up was second nature for Sir Edric. His armor was welcoming, his sword was sharp and his house insignia was as radiant as always and a reminder of who he was. The least he could do was keep not just his gear, but his own self in good condition, for Cartelom was not meant to be his final destination.

Stepping out of the barracks should have made him feel better. Not used to cold environments, his head was pounding. He knew it would come to pass eventually but for now he'd have to endure. Cartelom's militia assembled once again, to guard the city and push forward, away from it's walls. The country of Rhogein was vast and it's many mines and villages reportedly abandoned for the most part. The few people who dared explore it were like uninvited visitors, transient and insignificant. As if the place was not meant for their kind any longer.