Orchestratic Member
Mors
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Searching for a lovely female of age [Always accepting, please ignore post count]
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10 yrs ago
Forum: 1x1 Interest Checks
Half-year-later-BUMP!
MhmMhm. I'm trying to get my games moving, but people like you and her have lives and can't post all the time so I'm tempted to start another game to keep me occupied while I wait for the games I actually want. xD
Well he's not the problem, it's the girl who joined us to play as War. The other two players I know in real life and they're brothers, so the three of us are pretty connected when it comes to this game but she has a life and all and I was just waiting on her confirmation of something. I just posted the introduction so we're officially "Contractually rebooted".
Hah, I love that joke. XD
Hah, I love that joke. XD
WOO! We're officially rebooted, y'all!
Also, until right now, I forgot entirely about the "Vroom time" thing between Parker and Søren, so I put it in a second time 'cause I want to make sure I nail the best-friend-and-sometimes-childish relationship between them. XD
Also, until right now, I forgot entirely about the "Vroom time" thing between Parker and Søren, so I put it in a second time 'cause I want to make sure I nail the best-friend-and-sometimes-childish relationship between them. XD
TAP-tap-tap, TAP-tap-tap, TAP-- TATatatatataTATatatatata TAP!
The unpleasant sounds of a metal spatula and blade of a kitchen knife drumming on a griddle were turned into rhythmical combinations as they echoed into the small corner diner. "The Best Around Waffle House" was a small establishment on the corner of Tim and 88th Street. They may not have had the most space or the best class, but they did have Parker as a chef, whose father had taught him to cook with five-star quality.
TAP-tap-tap, TAP-tap-tap, TAP-- TATatatatataTATatatatata TAP!
In fact, if he had been any less of a cook he would have been fired long ago, for his irritating habit of bringing his musical hobbies to work have caused more than a handful of complaints. Pamela Vick, his boss and the lady who lived in the apartment above the diner, was actually quite fond of the music, but she knew that if she let him get away with it all the time they'd eventually lose all of their business.
Tap, ta-tap, tap, ta-tap, tap, ta-tap, tap --
"Excuse... ex... EXCUSE ME!" Parker nearly lost grip of his makeshift drumsticks when the shrill voice of a hungry, impatient and clearly angry woman interrupted his groove. Parker spun from his place of filling a simple order of pancakes and scrambled eggs to see a middle-aged red-headed woman in the doorway of the swinging kitchen door striking a pose that clearly stated "that 'Employees Only' sign means nothing to me right now" and a glare that added "and neither do you". Asking the question seemed pointless, but it somehow seemed more rude not to inquire anyway.
"I'm sorry, can I help you?" Parker asked, fearing her lash. Being yelled at by someone didn't scare Parker, but getting into an argument with a customer did -- he actually liked this job. Luckily, however, she was just as invested in keeping this interaction civil.... after the initial yelling to get his attention, of course.
Taking a breath and dropping the glare, she cleared her throat and began. "I've had a really, really stressful work day, and I was just looking forward to eating in peace and--
"Of course, ma'am, I'm terribly sorry," Parker said with his signature crooked smile. Almost every person in the Mors family had reliable charisma and a silver tongue. "I'm a drummer in a band, and sometimes I forget to leave my hobbies at the door. I'll try not to disturb you any further. Please, enjoy your meal." As she returned to her seat in satisfaction, Parker was suddenly thankful that he had almost no money on him, because he was tempted to treat her to something extra for the trouble. He couldn't help sometimes getting carried away in his own charm, even if it was entirely fake.
A few hours later, Parker's eyes were excitedly set on Jill -- the name he gave his purple van which he could see out the back window as he was taking off his hairnet and apron. It was just a little passed five and The Harbingers band practice began at six on Thursdays. This barely gave him enough time to get home and get changed before heading to Revelation Studios. Surely Søren would need a ride, as well. Luckily, Parker's drums were still packed in Jill from Tuesday's practice. "G'night, Pam," Parker shouted over his shoulder as he hurried out the door, not even bothering to wait for a response. He was usually more polite to her, but the woman was pushing 60 and fading hearing required three to five repeats of "goodnight," each increasing in volume, and he was just too excited for practice to deal with that.
Even though he knew the band would understand if he were late, patience was one of Parker's worst attributes. This became more fact than opinion as he sped through another red light in front of his apartment building, giving the signal to Soren to buzz the door open (so Parker wouldn't have to dig out his key) and to get his self ready: Three short honks and a long one in a slower (not to mention monotone) version of the beginning of Beethoven's fifth symphony from Jill's horn. Since the rhythm Beethoven used for that intro is also Morse code for the letter "V", Parker and Soren liked to joke and say it stood for "Vroom time." After the honks were made, Parker began step out of the van but paused a moment, then quickly whipped out his phone and began a text to Søren, who he just realized might not be home.
"Vroom time, bitch! You home? Bring me a shirt down with you, please; I smell like a perpetual breakfast." As the message sent, he hoped his best friend would hurry back with his text - and also be home - because it was just turning 5:15 PM as Parker stripped off his pants in the middle of the parking lot and slipped into a pair of shorts from the back of his van.
The unpleasant sounds of a metal spatula and blade of a kitchen knife drumming on a griddle were turned into rhythmical combinations as they echoed into the small corner diner. "The Best Around Waffle House" was a small establishment on the corner of Tim and 88th Street. They may not have had the most space or the best class, but they did have Parker as a chef, whose father had taught him to cook with five-star quality.
TAP-tap-tap, TAP-tap-tap, TAP-- TATatatatataTATatatatata TAP!
In fact, if he had been any less of a cook he would have been fired long ago, for his irritating habit of bringing his musical hobbies to work have caused more than a handful of complaints. Pamela Vick, his boss and the lady who lived in the apartment above the diner, was actually quite fond of the music, but she knew that if she let him get away with it all the time they'd eventually lose all of their business.
Tap, ta-tap, tap, ta-tap, tap, ta-tap, tap --
"Excuse... ex... EXCUSE ME!" Parker nearly lost grip of his makeshift drumsticks when the shrill voice of a hungry, impatient and clearly angry woman interrupted his groove. Parker spun from his place of filling a simple order of pancakes and scrambled eggs to see a middle-aged red-headed woman in the doorway of the swinging kitchen door striking a pose that clearly stated "that 'Employees Only' sign means nothing to me right now" and a glare that added "and neither do you". Asking the question seemed pointless, but it somehow seemed more rude not to inquire anyway.
"I'm sorry, can I help you?" Parker asked, fearing her lash. Being yelled at by someone didn't scare Parker, but getting into an argument with a customer did -- he actually liked this job. Luckily, however, she was just as invested in keeping this interaction civil.... after the initial yelling to get his attention, of course.
Taking a breath and dropping the glare, she cleared her throat and began. "I've had a really, really stressful work day, and I was just looking forward to eating in peace and--
"Of course, ma'am, I'm terribly sorry," Parker said with his signature crooked smile. Almost every person in the Mors family had reliable charisma and a silver tongue. "I'm a drummer in a band, and sometimes I forget to leave my hobbies at the door. I'll try not to disturb you any further. Please, enjoy your meal." As she returned to her seat in satisfaction, Parker was suddenly thankful that he had almost no money on him, because he was tempted to treat her to something extra for the trouble. He couldn't help sometimes getting carried away in his own charm, even if it was entirely fake.
A few hours later, Parker's eyes were excitedly set on Jill -- the name he gave his purple van which he could see out the back window as he was taking off his hairnet and apron. It was just a little passed five and The Harbingers band practice began at six on Thursdays. This barely gave him enough time to get home and get changed before heading to Revelation Studios. Surely Søren would need a ride, as well. Luckily, Parker's drums were still packed in Jill from Tuesday's practice. "G'night, Pam," Parker shouted over his shoulder as he hurried out the door, not even bothering to wait for a response. He was usually more polite to her, but the woman was pushing 60 and fading hearing required three to five repeats of "goodnight," each increasing in volume, and he was just too excited for practice to deal with that.
Even though he knew the band would understand if he were late, patience was one of Parker's worst attributes. This became more fact than opinion as he sped through another red light in front of his apartment building, giving the signal to Soren to buzz the door open (so Parker wouldn't have to dig out his key) and to get his self ready: Three short honks and a long one in a slower (not to mention monotone) version of the beginning of Beethoven's fifth symphony from Jill's horn. Since the rhythm Beethoven used for that intro is also Morse code for the letter "V", Parker and Soren liked to joke and say it stood for "Vroom time." After the honks were made, Parker began step out of the van but paused a moment, then quickly whipped out his phone and began a text to Søren, who he just realized might not be home.
"Vroom time, bitch! You home? Bring me a shirt down with you, please; I smell like a perpetual breakfast." As the message sent, he hoped his best friend would hurry back with his text - and also be home - because it was just turning 5:15 PM as Parker stripped off his pants in the middle of the parking lot and slipped into a pair of shorts from the back of his van.
Mhm! It's borrowing some lore from the same game I tried infusing with your ideas to make the world for our RP. ^-^ It's titled "Contracted", and it's about a band in Hollywood attempting to get famous through their music and are eventually picked up by a record company called 4Horse. Idk how short I can summarize this, but I'll try: In the lore for this world, there was once God and he created Angels. To give his creations meaning, God sacrificed his life and became the world so the Angels had something to rule and give themselves purpose. They created humans, and eventually Angels fell in love with their own creations and their hybrid children were called nephilims. It was decided that this could result in nephilims eventually dominating in population, so the Angels decided to rule from afar, leaving trace amounts of nephilim blood to flow through the human population as it evolved. Foreseeing the population problem as an issue, they chose four nephilims to be the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse (we chose the interpretation of War, Strife, Pestilence, and Death). The four were given the ability to end the world when they saw fit. Time passed and throughout the worst tragedies in history the Horseman each time wanted to intervene, but their powers were suppressed by their creators so they could only 'end on command'. Time skip to present day when four friends seemed connected by 'fate', all of which had nephilim blood in them. The Horseman decided to create a false record company to pick up the band and when they sign their record deal contract, they're essentially signing into becoming the next Horseman, because the original Four decided they would bring about the end through a new set of Horseman who couldn't be suppressed by the Angels because they weren't direct creations, and they believe it would be easiest to achieve a full apocalypse if the band gets famous first. So it's kind of like symbolism: Their music spreads like a plague. Fame for oblivion.
The game starts out as a slice-of-life RP about a band, then after awhile when they sign the Contracts they slowly begin to develop abilities they can't control at first and have to learn to live with and then we'll decide what to do from there, basically leaving us with options like: get revenge on the original Horseman, learn to control the increasing abilities and bask in our fame, or just accept our fate and end the world in an awesome rage.
So yeah, that's the gist, but a lot of work was put into it so this is kinda really sloppy by comparison. .___.
The game starts out as a slice-of-life RP about a band, then after awhile when they sign the Contracts they slowly begin to develop abilities they can't control at first and have to learn to live with and then we'll decide what to do from there, basically leaving us with options like: get revenge on the original Horseman, learn to control the increasing abilities and bask in our fame, or just accept our fate and end the world in an awesome rage.
So yeah, that's the gist, but a lot of work was put into it so this is kinda really sloppy by comparison. .___.
Of course it does, that's why I've been waiting. ^-^ I'll post it now after editing it.
Oh. :o that sounds annoying. I've been waiting for confirmation from the last person in this rebooted RP that is like my and my co-GM's favorite creation... she's taking forever, and I want to start again dammit. xD
Me too, I've had a pretty terrible day so I was pretty sad when I got home and couldn't get online. xD
Agreed. c:
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