semblanceoffantasy
New Member
Hi. I'm new to this, so bear with me. I like the premise of Devilman Crybaby, just not so much as a fandom. I would like us to create an original story from the premise that demons are invading and taking possession of people at certain seedy locations when the conditions are right. Ideally you are a girl who can write well, and who is willing to write multiple paragraphs.
Here is a sense of my character as he begins his night. It's not necessarily a beginning to the story, so much as it's there to give an idea of what's to come. Look forward to writing with you!
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“You do know what the night is for, correct?”
“Yeah, for sleeping. I’m tired, and you’re annoying.”
“Sleeping?! The sleepwalkers of the world are finally going to bed, and you want to join them? Don’t they rule enough of the day already? Oh! It’s all so hideous, watching them loop from one interior to another: house, car, office, house. Are they stumps on a treadmill? Don’t look at me that way. You know what I’m saying, even if you don’t know what I’m saying.”
“I don’t know what you’re saying. So what is night for then?”
“Glad you asked. Night is for exploration, of course. See if you can follow: Daytime is for the sleepwalkers. But! When the sun extinguishes behind those mountains over there -- poof --. It is like one eye closing and the other opening. Do you know what it’s in that other eye, Isaiah?”
“...”
“Isaiah?”
“What?! You’re going to tell me anyway, so let’s skip this whole (what?) dialectical charade, and get to the point.”
“My goodness, you are short today. Fine. You know ... I saw you this morning, watching that news channel on Youtube. Oh, yes! You thought I was sleeping, but I wasn’t. You clicked through seven (count them: seven) videos, talking about all those cases of demonic possession happening around the city -- happening at all those raves, to be more precise. Your eyes were positively watering.”
“It’s interesting news. So what? It’s not every day something like this happens in the city.”
“So what? So what?! Come now. Don’t be coy with me. I know what’s in your heart. You want to go. You want to go and experience something like that. Aa! Aaa! Don’t look away. It won’t do you no good now. Isaiah. The night is calling, Isaiah. Somewhere in the city is a warehouse, and in that warehouse the lights -- red lights, green lights, blue lights -- are beginning to heat up. People from every corner are gathering outside the doors. And the music within vibrates the very earth. Listen, I can almost hear it -- oh wait, no, that’s your heart racing.”
“Oh for crying out loud.”
“Where are you going?”
“To get dressed.”
“So we’re going!?”
“I’m going. You’re going to recede back to whatever corner of my skull you came from and stay there.”
“Deal.”
Here is a sense of my character as he begins his night. It's not necessarily a beginning to the story, so much as it's there to give an idea of what's to come. Look forward to writing with you!
------o------i------o------i------o------i------o------i------o------i------o------i------o------i------o------i------o------i------o------i------o------i------o------i------o------i------o------i------o------i------o------i------o------i------o------i------
“You do know what the night is for, correct?”
“Yeah, for sleeping. I’m tired, and you’re annoying.”
“Sleeping?! The sleepwalkers of the world are finally going to bed, and you want to join them? Don’t they rule enough of the day already? Oh! It’s all so hideous, watching them loop from one interior to another: house, car, office, house. Are they stumps on a treadmill? Don’t look at me that way. You know what I’m saying, even if you don’t know what I’m saying.”
“I don’t know what you’re saying. So what is night for then?”
“Glad you asked. Night is for exploration, of course. See if you can follow: Daytime is for the sleepwalkers. But! When the sun extinguishes behind those mountains over there -- poof --. It is like one eye closing and the other opening. Do you know what it’s in that other eye, Isaiah?”
“...”
“Isaiah?”
“What?! You’re going to tell me anyway, so let’s skip this whole (what?) dialectical charade, and get to the point.”
“My goodness, you are short today. Fine. You know ... I saw you this morning, watching that news channel on Youtube. Oh, yes! You thought I was sleeping, but I wasn’t. You clicked through seven (count them: seven) videos, talking about all those cases of demonic possession happening around the city -- happening at all those raves, to be more precise. Your eyes were positively watering.”
“It’s interesting news. So what? It’s not every day something like this happens in the city.”
“So what? So what?! Come now. Don’t be coy with me. I know what’s in your heart. You want to go. You want to go and experience something like that. Aa! Aaa! Don’t look away. It won’t do you no good now. Isaiah. The night is calling, Isaiah. Somewhere in the city is a warehouse, and in that warehouse the lights -- red lights, green lights, blue lights -- are beginning to heat up. People from every corner are gathering outside the doors. And the music within vibrates the very earth. Listen, I can almost hear it -- oh wait, no, that’s your heart racing.”
“Oh for crying out loud.”
“Where are you going?”
“To get dressed.”
“So we’re going!?”
“I’m going. You’re going to recede back to whatever corner of my skull you came from and stay there.”
“Deal.”
