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lostbird

lostbird

𝚓𝚊𝚍𝚎'𝚜 𝚐𝚏
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Roleplay Type(s)





DEAD BY THE THIRTEENTH.















scroll

act 1



the entity




ㅎㅎ















where




beyond space











when




beyond time











why




beyond reason












MENTIONS




the killers










MENTIONS




the survivors


















DEAD BY DAYLIGHT — MAIN THEME.
































































scroll






THE ENTITY WILL PLAY,




with our souls for all eternity. an endless hunt of fear and hope, pain and sacrifice from which even death there is no escape.






























CHAPTER 1.

ARCUS 02

I am going through some past scribblings and the notes of the previous unknown occupants, and I realise I should at least try to organise them. Reading these notes, I decipher several voices who I am aptly calling the unknown few who like myself had a fixation with the Entity and who like myself had an ability to experience the memories encoded in the fog.

I will include my past scribblings and number them as best as I can, referring to them as notes obscura, or just obscura, to try and piece together how long I've actually been here.

I think I may have found my first ramblings amongst the half-destroyed journals of the unknown occupants who struggled with infinite possibilities of whiling away the time except the one they probably missed the most. The one I miss the most—friendship, companionship, sitting with my father drinking whiskey and watching the Ancients swim across the night sky, or just losing time with a friend in a hearty conversation about the merits of art, music, laughter and stories.

All I have now are the memories of others. Second-hand experiences that constantly remind me of things lost and half-remembered.

SURVIVORS​
whether stumbling, dragged, or being pulled through the fog, you've arrived at the campfire: an eternal fire that always burns, serving as the epicentre for whats the come. the edges of the site are surrounded by a thick fog, constantly swirling. gaps in the fog part like the wind, showing a peek into something traversable. finding yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time has never felt more absolute than this moment, more undeniable as you realise you're not alone in your misfortune.

multiple unmade strewn tents litter the forest floor. you have the sneaking suspicion that one thing is clear: if you tried to leave, you'd end up right back at the campfire.

KILLERS​
a blink, and you're here—wherever here is.

it's familiar, a place you've been before with some added touches of a thick and dense fog surrounding your new domain. a realm, all for yourself. a playground, of sorts, with interconnected rooms and vast spaces. your memory of the realm is splintered, not fully matching up with the picture so clearly in your mind—the truth is, the Entity tried. replication was quite difficult with its limited understanding of your plane of existence, unremarkable compared to other planets it has already conquered and twisted into its own creation.

"corrupted one," it whispers, the distorted voice bouncing off the invisible walls of the fog in echoes. the entity speaks its intentions for you, calling back to the moments in your life that were so pivotal in its careful selection—sensing the killing potential within and rewarding you so. "entertain me."





























♡coded by uxie♡

START DATE: SEPTEMBER 17TH​
 



  • greta ─ spine chill.





































    • mood



      scared, & confused.
















    Damp leaves beneath her palms crunch as Greta manages to get to her knees. What just happened? She desperately searches her memory, staring straight down at the forest floor under her weight. Dirt found itself wedged under her recently trimmed nails and she blinks as the light emanating from the campfire glints─a flashlight, clutched in her left hand. A disturbing thought comes to mind: how did I not notice that before?

    Her usual perceptive nature, usually so hyperaware of her surroundings, had clearly taken a nosedive in the face of... Greta chances a glance up, to stare at the campfire and recall her last memory. Steve. He left the chamber door open. Greta releases her grip on the flashlight, on the ground, to lean back on her heels and allow reality to wash over her. The black mist.

    "This can't be real. This is not happening." Greta says under her breath, too quiet to hear over the roar of the campfire and the blood rushing through her ears, the thudding of her heartbeat.

    And she wasn't alone here.

    Not very comforted by the thought, Greta slowly gets to her feet and casts an untrusting look at the others in the clearing. She considers the odds of them being behind her sudden kidnapping, but she bites her lip, unsure. Their expressions were equal parts confused and nervous, like herself. This couldn't be some elaborate prank or ruse to keep her suspicions at bay─what was there to gain by taking her, anyway?

    And then she notices something of greater concern. Tents. Some still encased in their sleeves, others partially constructed. No, this is not happening. The insinuation of a more permanent stay leaves Greta's blood running cold. She moves towards a navy coloured tent bundle, constrained in a velcro strap and frowns; there's a darker splotch on the material, three drops in its immediate vicinity. Even without working at the mortuary, Greta could easily comprehend what she was seeing: blood. Old blood.

    Greta turns on her heel, staring at the vast nothingness that stretches on for what seems like miles, that same black mist obstructing any real view of what's beyond. The mist swirls, thickening in areas and she can't help but feel empty. Hopeless. Nothing could force her to venture into it, to be swallowed up by the same thing that brought her here─what if it spat her out somewhere else, somewhere worse?

    Bending on shaky legs, Greta retrieves the blood-spotted navy tent and peels off the velcro. "Do we─just, set up?" She's not sure who she is asking, or if anyone can even hear her breathless whisper.

    But she acts on her instincts, too cowardly to dwell on the implications of why, when, where, how. Fanning out the canvas material─a thought that sickens her, as the heavy duty material again implies permanence─Greta searches the forest floor, looking for other necessary materials and finally, her eyes have appropriately adjusted to the darkness. There's nails, stakes, rope, a hammer, and tarps. And... a sign? Her eyes narrow as she drops the material in her hand, discarding it as she edges closer towards the mist and wooden sign hammered into the dirt.

    Scratched into the plank reads: 'The Shed'. Black mist parts just behind the sign, inviting and taunting.

































    cry for love



    백현










    ♡coded by uxie♡
 



isabella ─ object of obsession.





































  • mood



    stressed, confused.
















After what felt like a lifetime, Isabella looked up and scanned her surroundings. The lack of visibility in any direction unnerved her and she rose to her feet, brushing the dirt from her knees. All she could see was darkness for what was probably miles. She dared not call out for help, unsure of what could be lurking in the black mist. With a deep breath, Sable wiped any residual tears from her cheeks and started in whatever direction she was facing. With a newfound determination to find something or perhaps even someone, she kept her eyes and ears peeled for any sign of life.

What Isabella hadn't anticipated was how horrible it was not knowing where a sound came from when completely surrounded by black mist. A whisper reached her ears, haunting as it echoed around her. Sable broke into a run without a second thought. She had no desire to find out where that whisper had originated, instead focusing on her soft breathing and the feeling of the dirt under her cold feet as they hit the ground soundlessly.

Sable must have been too focused on her running and keeping an eye on her surroundings to realise far too late what she had stumbled upon; there was the silhouette of someone else in the mist and a soft glow in the distance- possibly a campfire. Sable didn't have enough time to take in the whole situation, however, as she slammed into the figure and yelped, hitting the ground with a hard thud.

"Fuuuck." Isabella groaned as she sat up, rubbing her head and turning her gaze to whomever she ran into. Now that they were closer she could see it was another woman and the tension in her shoulders eased somewhat, "Sorry... I didn't think anyone else was here." Sable winced as her head throbbed painfully, feeling a strange amount of guilt for knocking down this complete stranger. I must be going mad.


































ptolemaea



ethel cain










♡coded by uxie♡
 



Ambrose - Dance With Me





































  • mood



    confused, a bit panicked
















It was no stretch to say that so far today had been the strangest day of Ambrose's entire life. One moment he had been gambling his life--and that of his crew's--on being a distraction, taking the attention of the sheriff's men to allow his friends time to escape. Perhaps this heist had been destined to be his last. He'd finally stolen away into a small alleyway, scaring off a wild cat, and took a moment to figure out what to do from here. Without his horse, he certainly couldn't outrun the sheriff and his men, but he also couldn't just give himself up here. They weren't about to let him go free just because he didn't want to hurt them. And besides, he knew without a doubt that the sheriff here was corrupt--they might just shoot him then and there.

Ambrose closed his eyes to take a deep breath, trying to think, when he felt a chill envelop him and he shivered. It was only Autumn in Arizona, which could sometimes get cold, but it was unseasonably frigid for a moment. He felt as if he'd taken an ice bath, feeling an odd tugging sensation at his navel. It hurt, causing him to grit his teeth. Was this what fish on a hook felt like? God, what had he eaten earlier? Ambrose thought he was going to be sick.

At last, he opened his eyes, wondering why that short moment had felt so long. But as he took in the scene in front of him, he blinked, rubbing at his eyes in an attempt to clear them. What have I gotten myself into now? he wondered, though a feeling of relief swept through him momentarily. So he wasn't going to die today. Probably. Unless he was dead already, shot while he had his eyes closed, and this was hell? Or purgatory? It had more of a purgatory vibe.

The fog around him was thick, unnatural. He walked towards the light he could see at the edge of the heavy haze, feeling strange. This must be purgatory; nothing earthly could have the eerie quality that this place possessed. And as far as he knew, Arizona didn't contain any weird fog-filled gloomy swamps. Or, not swamp, but what type of realm this was Ambrose had no idea. He continued his journey toward the light, hoping that he was wrong and this wasn't purgatory. He couldn't leave his crew behind. But even if he was wrong, was there even a way to go back? He sucked in his breath, trying to keep his mind on figuring out what had happened to him.

"Hello?" he called, trying to find another person in the darkness. Surely he couldn't be alone here. Or at least, he hoped not. Purgatory would be worse if he had no company with him. But Ambrose kept walking, resolutely, toward the light, realizing at last that it was a campfire, surrounded by tents that had yet to be put together. Was this where they were meant to wait until their souls were cleansed? Or something? Ambrose's family had been Christian, but he was never the devout type. He pursed his lips, suddenly wishing that he'd paid more attention in Sunday school. Ah well, at least he could use the fire to get rid of the chill that settled into his bones. He stuck his hands out, warming himself while his mind whirred.
































wanted man



royal deluxe










♡coded by uxie♡
 




  • Marcey - Clairvoyance





































    • mood



      I'm Terrified!
















    HUAHH
    Gasps escaped Marcey’s mouth as she jolted upright from where she lay on the cold ground. Her eyes flew open, scanning her surroundings while her hands pressed into the dirt beneath her. It was freezing. Goosebumps crept over her skin, and the chill felt as sharp as snow. Her gaze darted around this dark, mysterious place. She desperately tried to catch her breath, steadying it in an effort to keep her cool.

    She had no idea where she was. No idea how she’d gotten there. One thing was for sure, panicking would not help.

    It was dark, so dark she could barely make out anything except for the faint glow of a campfire in the distance. Marcey pushed herself up, wiping the dirt from the back of her jeans. Her legs moved instinctively, carrying her towards the light in a dazed, almost shocked state of mind. Even as she stepped into the fire’s glow, she felt no warmth. The cold clung to her, seeping into her bones.

    Her heartbeat pounded in her chest, the sound echoing in her ears. Bum bum… bum bum… bum bum.

    The light gave her a better view of everything. Marcey didn’t know what was worse, the fact that she was in this strange place, or the fact that she wasn’t alone. Her body stiffened as she noticed the people around her. Marcey’s guard shot up immediately. Who are they? What’s going on? The questions echoed repeatedly in her mind.

    Something was wrong. Everything felt wrong.

    And then she felt it. A feeling she wished would leave her alone. A feeling she hated the most in the entire universe.

    Dread…

    Her eyes slowly started to gloss over and her hands began to tremble as the feeling rushed through her body like never before. Her whole body felt frozen like a deer in headlights. She wanted to cry, to scream, to throw up, to hit something. This was different than any other time she’s experienced this feeling. It was more than just dread, she could feel the danger. It was surrounding. It was suffocating. It was all over and there was no escaping it, but Marcey felt something that made her wish this was all a dream. It made her wish this was just a vision and she’d wake up back at the library or in her dorm. That something was…

    death.

    Death was all over, clinging to the air and space around. Marcey could smell it, she could taste it, she could feel it, and she could just see it. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. WAKE UP! she screams internally, begging herself to wake from this nightmare.

    A sudden sound broke through her thoughts, a loud clatter. Her eyes snapped toward the other side of the campfire, landing on a woman who had dropped something. Marcey couldn’t tell what it was, and confusion etched across her face as she watched the woman walk toward what looked like a sign.

    Before she could make sense of it, her attention shifted. Her breath came in quick, uneven gasps and her chest rose and fell heavily. Her gaze turned to the void, locking onto the mist just beyond the campfire's edge. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel it. Something lurked there, just out of sight. Its presence known to Marcey. As much as she hated to admit it, she was terrified. Terrified in a way she hadn’t been since she was a child. The kind of fear that made her wish, for just a moment, that she did not exist.

































    Rises the moon



    Liana Flores










    ♡coded by uxie♡

 



  • floyd ─ adrenaline.





































    • mood



      thrown off track.
















    The world shifted, then stumbled, and finally came to a halt, but his stomach continued to churn like a rat on a wheel. Floyd could feel the firmer ground beneath his feet, replacing the damp dirt paths he had grown accustomed to and traversed over the past few hours. Stale air turned crisp and static, like firecrackers about to go off, filling his lungs as quickly as the realisation that something was very much wrong. He blinked, twice, and at last the tendrils of wispy mist blocking his vision began to recede to the edges of his consciousness. Instead, a blazing campfire took its place in his field of vision, and with it those who were surrounded by its warmth.

    His eyes jumped. From one to the other. Categorising the strangers as he went. Everything from their clothes to their height and their hair. How they stood, what their bodies said without their mouths uttering a single word. Faces were still muted blanks, but at least that was something Floyd was familiar with. Information that his brain could filter and store. Conclusions that were, at best, flimsy reassurances to his finicky mind. Not enough to stop the overwhelming urge of panic beginning to flood his system. Even with two feet firmly planted on the ground and his hands clenched at his sides, the growing sense of drowning remained like a persistent stab. He bit his lips. Where? and Who?

    Movement drew his attention away from his inner turmoil and towards a woman who seemed to have no desire to take the first steps. The subtle trembling in her limbs, the quiver in her voice. Floyd swallowed; a dry cough caught in his throat. Her question and the sound of the velcro being torn open were two sensations so incomprehensible at the moment that he felt they were in separate realities. Floyd could hear the hidden compliance in her words, an acceptance of the situation that made him sick to his stomach. Set up what? The tents? Their future homes?

    Floyd took a heavy step forward, not quite sure whether to help or tear the material apart, when he felt soft paper give way under his shoe. Startled, he looked down to see frayed edges sticking out from under his sole, alongside sticks and stones. Looking around for other objects, but finding none, he quickly bent down to pick it up.

    Stains of ink greeted him as he shook the paper open. Traces of use all over it. A map, his fevered mind supplied, but not finished. Several blurred areas filled the front, indicating places that might be of interest, but giving no details of their nature. Only the centre could be read, the familiar outline of a campfire marking the location. It was as if its creator was challenging him to explore. Daring him to venture into —Floyd looked up, to the horizon beyond the fire— the mist. He wanted to laugh. He usually reserved the sick jokes for Monday mornings.

    With aching fingers, he carefully folded the map and tucked it away. In his pocket for safekeeping. For when he didn't feel like everything was spinning out of control. Like when Floyd happens to get a bad hand in the casino or the whiplash of witnessing a sudden tackle in front of him. "What a shitshow," Floyd muttered under his breath as the blonde woman hit the ground. Traces of contempt layered his voice, not necessarily directed at anyone, but at their current situation. Then another greeting rang out, this time a male voice, and suddenly it was all too much.

    Floyd began to tug at his gloves as he purposefully walked past the tents, not sparing them a second glance, stopping only briefly to pick up a single nail to hold on to. His feet took him to the edge of the site, where the wooden sign pointed north, and the mist parted like open jaws. The direction corresponded to a blurred spot on the map, and though the chances of it being an exit were slim, anything was better than staying here. With the lost or the wicked and the building material demanding that he settle down.

    Silently, he glanced back for a moment. To see if anyone would follow; slightly hoping they wouldn't. Then Floyd pushed forward, ignoring the way the black mist seemed to snap at his heels as he slowly made his way down the path. A blanket of nothingness.

































    necromancin dancin



    bear ghost










    ♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:



nellie ─ repressed alliance.





































  • mood



    relieved, & nervous.
















Nellie gasps as her mind returns to her body, no longer a bystander to her own escape from the compound. A whirl of emotions and questions begin to spin in the already dizzy expanse of her mind, feelings of relief and nerves moulding into a single question amongst the loss of coherent thought: Where am I now?

She turns, half-expecting to see smoke billowing high into the sky, evidence of her arson and the compound burning just beyond the Oregon cliffs. And there's smoke, but not from a fire─it's alive, moving. A fog that pulses without rhythm, little bursts of what might be lightning within illuminates the pitch black darkness and Nellie blinks rapidly to clear her vision, positive that the compound must be right there, not a path leading into the non-existent forest.

Breathing in sharply, her sense of smell doesn't confirm her disillusionment. Corn wasn't burning. Only the wood from the campfire. Slowly, she takes a step back away from the edge of the fog, giving it one last chance to clear and show Nellie what she knows to be true. . . and it doesn't. Trees so tall they touch the sky, the ground beneath her damp and littered with autumnal leaves. She glances down at her attire, where her beige coloured dress drags through the dirt and discoloured the hem.

Relief immediately washes over her, an emotion she hadn't felt for years. When Nathan had caressed her face and assured her that her mother would be delivered to the afterlife amongst the chants of the community. No, that wasn't true─relief came when Marshall had accused the compound of hiding something. A relief less gentle and comforting, more of a slap to the face; a bucket of cold water tipped onto her head, washing away the carefully constructed falsehoods of the community she was born into.

Nellie takes leisurely steps towards the campfire, her arms outstretching to warm her hands─she sucks in a gasp, her fingers are smeared with blood. Travis' blood. Coated in a thin layer of ash from the smoke. There was no doubt it had happened, it was real, but it does nothing to settle her nerves about how she ended up here. . . wherever here is.

Just as Nellie begins to consider the ramifications of others seeing the blood on her hands, the distant sound of fast approaching footfalls reach a crescendo and she pivots her hips, expecting to see the cause of the noise only to be barrelled into by the source. She hits the ground in a heap, her face inches away from the fire. Embers dust her skin as she wrenches her body away with a surprised gasp.

"Fuuuck." A blonde pale short girl sits up. Nellie stares, dumbfounded in her direction. "Sorry... I didn't think anyone else was here."

"S'okay." Nellie glances around, wondering if their collision piqued the interest of others. "Neither did I." She returns her gaze, taking in the girls frazzled appearance and. . . wedding dress? Her mouth opens and closes─should I even ask? At the sight of the girls' dress, Nellie's eyes drift down to her own, most definitely ruined from the damp ground beneath.

Frankly, Nellie has the good sense to juggle her relief of sudden freedom with her daunting emotions. Anywhere was safer than the compound. But she was still in a strange place, surrounded by strangers, across from a girl that seemed to have had an off day─just like herself. Resting back on both palms, uncaring of the dirt wedging under her nails, Nellie sighs deeply. "Do you know where we are? This ain't where I'm from. Though─" Though I ran here just moments ago.

Quite a silly thing to dwell on, her mother would've told her. Embracing whichever new practice Guru Oren had enforced on their community. I'm sure the Gods have their reasons. Nellie no longer cared for their reasons. If they'd been benevolent, then Guru Oren would've have been able to fool them by the hundreds.

Lost in her troubling thoughts, Nellie's eyes focus elsewhere─on the others around the campfire. Where a girl stood, shell-shocked and staring down the fog. Where a boy came to stand somewhat close by, warming his hands by the fire. Where two others were inching towards─she shifts to the side, to peer at what they were approaching. A sign?

































cry for love



백현










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:



Emmy - Plaything





































  • mood



    perplexed
















The last thing she remembered was washing the blood off of her hands; it was so much stickier than she had anticipated, nothing like what was shown in those vampire shows. And it had gotten everywhere. Of course, even in death, Violet had to ruin Emmy's day. The mess her pincushion of a body had left behind was even sloppier than her slobbery kisses. Emmy supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. What was surprising was the manic laughter that had started spilling from Emmy's mouth, the way her hands had started shaking, the way she felt something in her break. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Killing her abusive ex-girlfriend was supposed to fix her issues, not make them worse. Everything in her life was going wrong, and this one thing would fix it. Violet was a bad person.

But that didn't make it right...

Emmy had shoved that part of herself deep, deep down, just like she was used to shoving the important parts of herself. If no one knew about it, she would be fine. She just had to get home and wash off the blood. Violet didn't have any cameras in her apartment, and her neighbors weren't the kind of people would who notice or care about any disturbances, but her racing heart told her that she would be found out anyway due to forensics or something. Best to fix what she could and hurry back to her apartment so she could come up with a plan. But no sooner had she showered and changed that she had broken down right there on her perfect, fluffy carpet, knowing that she couldn't fix things. Emmy only ever made things worse.

So while she'd had her royal meltdown, it took her far longer than it should have to notice that carpet her face was smushed into was not the carpet she was familiar with. It was pink and spotless, looking even newer and fancier than her apartment's. She blinked, looking around and sniffling, to see a completely different setting than she was accustomed to. What was this? Her heart began to beat erratically again for a whole new reason. Where was she? This felt like a horror movie, like there was a monster that would attack her at any moment. But as she looked around the realm, taking in how unique everything was, how catered towards her, she wondered if she wasn't the monster here. At least there wasn't any blood on her now. As she started to explore the film studio, each room setup cuter and more perfect than the last, she started to forget about her light murder from earlier.

The bathroom even had a full set of Emmy's favorite makeup brands, making her smile. She washed her face of the streaked mascara and reapplied her normal clean makeup, with plenty of pink, of course. And a killer wing. She grinned at her reflection, giggling. Her giggles quickly turned into crazed laughter again, causing her to double over in her hysteria. The Entity didn't even have to try so hard, whispering thoughts into the mind of a half-insane girl as she spiraled. All it had to do was make her question everything, rip away the remaining shreds of sanity and morality she was clinging to. Maybe those things would slip through the cracks eventually, but by then Emmy would be under its control. There was no way she could process her fate without being a mad, after all.

If the universe wanted her to be the villain, who was she to say otherwise? Fuck it, this might as well happen. This was probably a dream anyway, so what did it matter if she did as she pleased? Not like any of these people would ever think twice about Emmy, so why should she think twice about them? Maybe she was the hero after all, bringing righteous justice to people like Violet. Her entire world had flipped upside down today, so it was above her pay grade to question what was happening. Maybe she was going crazy. Oh well. Better here than alone and on the streets while her family, her ex-friends, her ex-lovers all holed away in their warm, safe homes without thinking about Emmy at all. At least here she could have some fun.

At least here she mattered. And that was all it took for her to grab the knife.
































barbie girl



aqua










♡coded by uxie♡
 
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