Freyu Valentine
The One Who Wanders
I probably won't get a reply in until tomorrow I apologize for this >~< It's the holiday and all so that's why I can't until then.. But I will tomorrow morning...Elysium said:
-
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Realistic or Modern Streets of Rage: A Vigilante Story
- Thread starter Elysium
- Start date
Coriandr
Unknown Species
This'll be my first detailed RP if I join, so uh... I might take awhile trying to detail posts if I do join and get accepted. Bear with me if I suck, hehe.
Elysium
Nuts
@Lana Valentine - No worries. See you tomorrow.
@Coriandr - Can't get better if you don't try. I'll help you out the best I can.
@Coriandr - Can't get better if you don't try. I'll help you out the best I can.
Wandering Grim Hollow
I want to be happy but my gun says no.
Don't be afraid! Jumping into a detailed may seem scary but we'll help you along the way! :3Coriandr said:
P.S @Elysium My chara's done.
Elysium
Nuts
@Wandering Hollow - Schwarzchild? I accepted her last night.
Wandering Grim Hollow
I want to be happy but my gun says no.
..... Well this is awkward.... (':3)Elysium said:
H-how's the weather?
P.S Will post around 1300 GMT 8+ Gonna crash for now. Night.
Elephantom
Chicken Broth Paragon
Long post coming up.
Short preview. Hehehe... Small spoiler.
Short preview. Hehehe... Small spoiler.
Jack sat in the cab's worn out leather seats with a vigorous posture and a tight grip on his pistol, waiting a bit too impatiently as the cab driver pulled around the more thinner alleyways, following around that other really shady driver, who was supposedly the killer, because that was what his client suggested, quite forcibly too since she was too paranoid and suffering from some pent down dilemma, and then again, Mr. Vulture was the only suspect, and there was no harm in seeing if he was really the killer, or it was all a misconception.
Looking back at the cab driver, who's name was Hank Harper, and was one of his his really old friend, one that helped him in many of his endeavours, including giving him rides whenever he needed them. Yep, he didn't have any cars or any other transportation vehicles, and mostly had to rely on a taxi or his own pair of feet. Nevertheless, that really shady man parked near a seemingly abandoned and decrepit suburban one-storey house which was just north out in the boulevard, which Jack previously though was unoccupied, before quickly assuming that he was a hobo and was squatting over on that land, anyway, the man entered that very same house, with a very paranoid demeanour and a pre-occupied behaviour, and then pulling his long black trench coat over his head, to try to salvage from losing his identity, or so as Jack thought it happened to be. Muttering some words underneath his breath, he entered his presumed house. Jack immediately told Hank to quietly approach the house, and park near his car, which Hank obediently did.
The air was thick with the moist feeling of dread as Jack exited the cab, and then telling Hank to stay put, with a very bleak tone.
"Stay put, Hank. Don't try any heroics, ok?"
Hank, in turn, put on a rather serious, if not a bit stern, expression, before speaking.
"You serious, bub?"
"As serious as serious can be, Hank."
"Okay, you're the boss."
Hank finished with a nervous chuckle as beads of sweat slipped down his forehead, before he slacked back on his seat. Jack carefully went around the road, and to the building which was placed in a very complex position, possibly to deter any unassuming fellow from going near the building.
He approached the building before analysing it for any possible entrances with careful precision before rubbing his chin with his hand, he couldn't possibly open the door since it was already locked. The building itself looked really old, worn out and extremely decrepit, as if it could break down in any moment, the windows were severely broken, and entrance through it was possible but quite painful, considering that there was still some jagged pieces of glass still left around the window hole, and he wasn't exactly looking to get wounded, or worse, infected with tetanus.
Jack decided to ponder for a few moments over the possibility of kicking the door down, unsatisfied with a decision like this, which may compromise him, Jack decided to look for another route, as he went for a lap around the building. Once he reached the rear end of the building, he found a fire escape with a ladder, unfortunately, the ladder was way too high for him to reach it. Realizing that kicking the door down may be his only option, he decided do just that. He mounted the steps, before looking around the streets. There was no practically no witnesses, which means he was free to kick the door in. He reared back, before planting his feet just below the knob. The wood gives away with a splintering creak, as Jack sighed a breath of relief, since the owner or squatter seems to have not heard it. But he was quick to know that Mr. Vulture may as well be preparing an ambush for him. The door swung in, rebounding off the cold concrete wall. He stepped into the dark halls of hardwood floors and high ceilings, sensing a feeling of long emptiness and neglect among the hallways. Of course, that just might be the cobwebs.
Surely his entrance may have attracted Mr. Vulture's attention, who might be hiding right now or planning the perfect ambush. Jack slowly raised his gun up, as his heart beat's rate increased in a sudden manner. He entered one of the rooms, it had a long, empty fireplace molding ceilings. It might've been a really nice and grand place to live in at one time, but now, it's just plain creepy and cold, unfit for your average living needs.
Jack looked around the room with a strange sense of curiosity, examining the furniture and the more finer details, until he saw a grandfather clock which had a white drape covering it. Come to think of it again, the object's structure closely matched that of Mr. Vulture. Jack steadily and briskly approached the figure with a triumphant smile. But he stopped dead on his tracks when he heard footsteps and a shadow emerging from the deep black. Before he could react, a blunt object hit his head as the lights slowly fade out to black. The last thing he saw was Mr. Vulture with a triumphant smile.
-
Jack swam up from unconsciousness. A metaphorical army of bees set up a nest inside his head when his out. They were now stinging and buzzing, and generally making his life a miserable mess. Being awake seemed like the wrong move to Jack who wanted to go back to his soft void of black oblivion, but there was a warning bell jingle-jangling in the back of his head, keeping him awake and full of adrenaline.
There was a light on, and its glow seemed to pierce through the membranes of his closed eyelids. The air was moist and cold, and there was the sound of chains clanking together and water dripping. Jack forced himself to peel open one of his eyes, with great effort, and what he saw was enough to make even the most masochistic man pee his pants, however, we'll get to that later on.
He was in a basement or so it seemed, and he was trussed like a turkey on a thanksgiving day. His hands were tied together with a rope which was suspended on the ceiling with the help of a hook. His feet were dangling an inch from the floor. Jack examined the place carefully, and it looked like the decorator was going for a cross between a gothic castle and a fetish club. He succeeded in doing so. Chains, whips, knives and other unpleasant looking instruments adorn the wall. There was dark red blood stains on the floor. It was definitely not his. not yet anyway.
Looking back at the cab driver, who's name was Hank Harper, and was one of his his really old friend, one that helped him in many of his endeavours, including giving him rides whenever he needed them. Yep, he didn't have any cars or any other transportation vehicles, and mostly had to rely on a taxi or his own pair of feet. Nevertheless, that really shady man parked near a seemingly abandoned and decrepit suburban one-storey house which was just north out in the boulevard, which Jack previously though was unoccupied, before quickly assuming that he was a hobo and was squatting over on that land, anyway, the man entered that very same house, with a very paranoid demeanour and a pre-occupied behaviour, and then pulling his long black trench coat over his head, to try to salvage from losing his identity, or so as Jack thought it happened to be. Muttering some words underneath his breath, he entered his presumed house. Jack immediately told Hank to quietly approach the house, and park near his car, which Hank obediently did.
The air was thick with the moist feeling of dread as Jack exited the cab, and then telling Hank to stay put, with a very bleak tone.
"Stay put, Hank. Don't try any heroics, ok?"
Hank, in turn, put on a rather serious, if not a bit stern, expression, before speaking.
"You serious, bub?"
"As serious as serious can be, Hank."
"Okay, you're the boss."
Hank finished with a nervous chuckle as beads of sweat slipped down his forehead, before he slacked back on his seat. Jack carefully went around the road, and to the building which was placed in a very complex position, possibly to deter any unassuming fellow from going near the building.
He approached the building before analysing it for any possible entrances with careful precision before rubbing his chin with his hand, he couldn't possibly open the door since it was already locked. The building itself looked really old, worn out and extremely decrepit, as if it could break down in any moment, the windows were severely broken, and entrance through it was possible but quite painful, considering that there was still some jagged pieces of glass still left around the window hole, and he wasn't exactly looking to get wounded, or worse, infected with tetanus.
Jack decided to ponder for a few moments over the possibility of kicking the door down, unsatisfied with a decision like this, which may compromise him, Jack decided to look for another route, as he went for a lap around the building. Once he reached the rear end of the building, he found a fire escape with a ladder, unfortunately, the ladder was way too high for him to reach it. Realizing that kicking the door down may be his only option, he decided do just that. He mounted the steps, before looking around the streets. There was no practically no witnesses, which means he was free to kick the door in. He reared back, before planting his feet just below the knob. The wood gives away with a splintering creak, as Jack sighed a breath of relief, since the owner or squatter seems to have not heard it. But he was quick to know that Mr. Vulture may as well be preparing an ambush for him. The door swung in, rebounding off the cold concrete wall. He stepped into the dark halls of hardwood floors and high ceilings, sensing a feeling of long emptiness and neglect among the hallways. Of course, that just might be the cobwebs.
Surely his entrance may have attracted Mr. Vulture's attention, who might be hiding right now or planning the perfect ambush. Jack slowly raised his gun up, as his heart beat's rate increased in a sudden manner. He entered one of the rooms, it had a long, empty fireplace molding ceilings. It might've been a really nice and grand place to live in at one time, but now, it's just plain creepy and cold, unfit for your average living needs.
Jack looked around the room with a strange sense of curiosity, examining the furniture and the more finer details, until he saw a grandfather clock which had a white drape covering it. Come to think of it again, the object's structure closely matched that of Mr. Vulture. Jack steadily and briskly approached the figure with a triumphant smile. But he stopped dead on his tracks when he heard footsteps and a shadow emerging from the deep black. Before he could react, a blunt object hit his head as the lights slowly fade out to black. The last thing he saw was Mr. Vulture with a triumphant smile.
-
Jack swam up from unconsciousness. A metaphorical army of bees set up a nest inside his head when his out. They were now stinging and buzzing, and generally making his life a miserable mess. Being awake seemed like the wrong move to Jack who wanted to go back to his soft void of black oblivion, but there was a warning bell jingle-jangling in the back of his head, keeping him awake and full of adrenaline.
There was a light on, and its glow seemed to pierce through the membranes of his closed eyelids. The air was moist and cold, and there was the sound of chains clanking together and water dripping. Jack forced himself to peel open one of his eyes, with great effort, and what he saw was enough to make even the most masochistic man pee his pants, however, we'll get to that later on.
He was in a basement or so it seemed, and he was trussed like a turkey on a thanksgiving day. His hands were tied together with a rope which was suspended on the ceiling with the help of a hook. His feet were dangling an inch from the floor. Jack examined the place carefully, and it looked like the decorator was going for a cross between a gothic castle and a fetish club. He succeeded in doing so. Chains, whips, knives and other unpleasant looking instruments adorn the wall. There was dark red blood stains on the floor. It was definitely not his. not yet anyway.
Elysium
Nuts
Elephantom
Chicken Broth Paragon
As short as short can be. This is actually more of demo/intro rather than an actual summary.
Coriandr
Unknown Species
Am I supposed to make the history seem like a case file, or is that just what everyone else is doing?
Yesman
Most helpful bot on the New Vegas strip
@Elephantom did you base your scene off a text game? All you're missing is some black magic, threatened singers, and a witch killing others as sacrifice to her own youthfulness.
Elephantom
Chicken Broth Paragon
@Yesman
Text game? The only text I ever played was zombie exodus, and that too as a demo. Although, it was a story from my cousin. But I thought his was entirely fiction? Are you telling me that this is based off from a text game?
Text game? The only text I ever played was zombie exodus, and that too as a demo. Although, it was a story from my cousin. But I thought his was entirely fiction? Are you telling me that this is based off from a text game?
Yesman
Most helpful bot on the New Vegas strip
It was one of those 'pick your adventure' games. Gimme a moment and I'll see if I can find it.Elephantom said:
Yesman
Most helpful bot on the New Vegas strip
@Elephantom
The game is called Detective's Choice Volume 1. It's a free mobile game so you can download it and try it.
The game is called Detective's Choice Volume 1. It's a free mobile game so you can download it and try it.
Coriandr
Unknown Species
I think I'll like doing this. I'll join, if you'll accept me.
Here's an example:
Here's an example:
Wandering Grim Hollow
I want to be happy but my gun says no.
Dang.... That banner looks sick!Coriandr said:I think I'll like doing this. I'll join, if you'll accept me.
Here's an example:
Coriandr
Unknown Species
Thanks! It was my third try so I'm hoping to do better next time too. c:
Last edited by a moderator:
Coriandr
Unknown Species
LOL
Wow I just realized I posted this in the wrong thread... but it was for the same thread I made it for.
I was doing it to get into the advertisement makers but yeah, made this as an example. Hehe.
@Wandering Hollow
Wow I just realized I posted this in the wrong thread... but it was for the same thread I made it for.
I was doing it to get into the advertisement makers but yeah, made this as an example. Hehe.
@Wandering Hollow
Diminium
Atom Bomb Baby
Gee, I hadn't even noticed that the RP had started!
Red Thunder
Two Thousand Club
@Elysium, are we adhering to a posting order? Or can the good Doctor chime in?
Elysium
Nuts
@Red Thunder - Go ahead and post
Red Thunder
Two Thousand Club
It won't be tonight, probably, but I wanted to be sure that I didn't get ahead.Elysium said:
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