mother of sorrows
๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ป, ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐จ๐ช๐ฃ ๐ฎ๐ช๐ณ ๐ฏ๐ช๐ค๐ฉ๐ต
G
olden crumbs of sand stick under your heel.The sea, endless, slobbering over the soft shore, is sun nurtured and mild in temperature. It glimmers and contracts, easing itself to the polished white stone before it escapes, leaving behind little crabs stranded in the upside world. Salt bitters the breeze. The town you are in reflects like a green wine bottle when it's noon, the windows all bright and blinding, taking your sight from you when you dare turn your head towards it. It's picturesque, like a dream wretched from your childhood - melted ice cream on your elbow, stone build houses, a hotel that you stay in that can't fit more than ten people.
Beautiful place. It is summer. If this town drags itself under to die when autumn comes, you will not stick around to see it; for now, everything is lush with sweet smelling greenery and your footsteps echoing down the tiny, spiraling roads are the only sound to be heard.
You are here because it is only right.
Six years ago. Amelie. She used to smile like a sheep, all teeth and squinting eyes, her laugh clear like a church bell. Always somewhere, always talking. You don't suppose she talked to her family anymore, with them leaving her out in the world like a misthrown foal with a limp. Six years ago, you sat on this same beach with her, the same town, a summer whose replica you are always privately waiting for.
She got murdered, afterwards.
No one ever got tried for it. The police tried, of course; a foreigner, found dead in a barely known Spanish town? It was community disembowelment waiting to happen. People got interrogated, dogs tracked senseless trails, townsfolk watched their neighbour like they've never quite seen each other.
You didn't see her body. Neither did your friends. No one ever asked about the details.
You are here now again, though, because not coming here eventually would make you a bad person or because you really do miss this place. Your friends, three of them - they wait with you in your tiny, beautiful hotel and you hope to make sense of all of this. She could not have committed suicide. If there was any evidence left, you are sure by now it has rotten away to dust, her memory distant and dusty, unreachable. Amelie was forgotten in all physical things.
Your friends watch you. You talk with them when you can, hands brushing against theirs. Together you dine and sit around, your feet brushing towards the ocean and its infinity.
Towards grief. It is an uncurable wound and so is the hate you feel for every single one of your friends.
(You hope it hurt when she died. God, you hope so.)
โ โ
Hello! Welcome to Quimera, a story centered on a dysfunctional group of four friends that might eat each other alive if they stay together too long. They are washed up in an idyllic town in Spain, meeting again to either celebrate the life of their friend Amelie, or to track down what really happened six years ago. This isn't really a traditional roleplay and I hope for it to be approached with an open mind - the story is not going to be straightforward and it won't be what it seems. I don't want to reveal too much, but if you are interested in horror, the dynamics of the four friends and everything else, then I would absolutely love to guide this! c:
Before expressing interest, please note;
- Be 18+ and have Discord, since that's where the ooc will be held!
- You do not have to post constantly. The quality of the posts matters much more than the length of it. But mostly important, please do post. If you know that you will most likely ghost or lost interest, please don't join! I really do want this story to reach an actual conclusion.
- Your characters don't have to be from Spain! Any country is fine, as long as they have a reason for having been in this part of the world.
- This is not first come first serve, but there won't be a traditional CS thread. You're welcome to send a concept of your character and a writing sample!
- Plotting will mostly be minimal, so the characters can develop through roleplay.
โ โ
THE ROLES ;;Bloodletter (RESERVED) - A parasite of a person, shoving themselves into other's forms to survive. Jealously destructive. They've managed to carve a door into this friend group and to cut them out now would feel like amputating a limb. Something is deeply, disturbingly wrong with them, like there is a tumor pressing up where their heart should be; but you only notice it in hindsight, when it's already too late to point it out. What a strange, unearthly, vile thing.
Golden Calf - Richer than an unearthed king's sacrifical grave. Everyone is too afraid of them to really point out when they're being mean, because losing their attention is worse than never having it at all. Heaven smiles down on them like a doting parent with a screaming, spoiled violent child on their hip; because life is easiest for those that don't deserve it. A terrifyingly charming person, one that is most definitively going to outlive themselves.
Changeling - They date the Golden Calf because they're not sure what else to do. Oh, what a life to be so idle - anything comes easy. Education, artistic freedom, drifting like a sparkling river through a fresh route, the sun glimmering off its surface. They don't do anything except smile at the passing glimpses of the real world and decay with fear. They finger through old papery journals, they try to conjure images of what they are supposed to be. It does not work, most of the time.
Rat King - They are profoundly lonely. It is their best trait, really; it allows them to see the Bloodletter as the intruding virus they are. The Golden Calf does not prod at them with killing blows as much. Sullen and serious-faced, they stand at the edges of good temper and they don't harbor any spiral staircases into the anarchic bowels of their mind. A scholar, perhaps, viciously intelligent and often crucified by others when it's easy to do so.
"sycamores, golden in the oblique light..."
A STORY.
Last edited:
