Testing, testing...

[quetzalcoatl]

open || closed || under construction
profiles . ooc
2/6 roles taken

Welcome to my survival horror roleplay. I am Squid, and this is not-so-subtly based on Silent Hill.

Roles

The Big Bad: taken by quetzalcoatl
Female 1: taken by quetzalcoatl
Female 2: open
Female 3: open
Male 1: open
Male 2: open
Male 3: open

Rules Abridged

quetzalcoatl is god
quetzalcoatl reserves the right to reject your profile
quetzalcoatl reserves the right to kick you out of the roleplay
No Sues
No Godmoding/Power playing/Auto-hitting
Character death can and will occur.
No one-liners, no novels
OOC stays in the OOC thread
Profiles stay in the profile thread

[quetzalcoatl]

This roleplay is Semi-literate and up, with an emphasis on literacy. That means we want none of this:


Sierra walks into the police staton while it rains outside. "Hi" she said to the officer sitting at the desk.*

And definitely none of this:


Sierra: "Hi" i say and wave to john "how are you"

This isn't fanfiction.net. This isn't your fourth grade creative writing project. You are a writer with an understanding of grammar and punctuation and you will use it.

However, purple prose is also subject to an equal amount of spite. I don't want an essay of a response, 2-6 paragraphs will do. This also means no one-liners. I understand writer's block, but you are a writer! Try for a minimum of 2 paragraphs.

This, for the record, is purple prose:


The nightfall, deeply saturated with every fibre of its being in the shadows of dark gloom and ocular turblence, encompassed wholly and thoroughly the dusty, unattended, dirty, untouched apartment building of one youthful, handsome yet very homely aspiring author of many tomes Report Siht, as he descended with a blindingly powerful glowing aura of casualty and sensual smoothness onto the slowly revolving Mid-Century Modern armchair that was currently situated betwixt and between his beige-coloured, antiquated digital binary computation machine and analysis device. The writer being spoken of gently placed beside his body the worn thesaurus (a thesaurus, of course, being a large tome containing lists of synonyms and antonyms), slowly yellowing and fading with the slow, constant passage of time, he had been delving into, he lowered his slender, pale fingers onto the black keyboard, his creaseless, silky hands striking the small intractable keys in quick succession while scrutinizing his search for a four-syllable phrase that is, to him worthy enough in all its purple glory to be written into his new masterpiece of literature to a veteran musician in search for the perfect melody to play to the masses, as they are entranced by the narcotic tune. But as he continued, at a tempo that only the smallest of snails could possibly envy, to turn through page after page after page of his wide, thick-as-a-doorstopper tome of words that he usually refers to as a thesaurus, he, over the course of hundreds of pages, begins to conceptualize that what was previously his treasure chest of multisyllabic vocabulary is now wholly exhausted, having used in some way each and every one of the words in some form or another. An "avarice" here, a "defenestrate" there, occasionally an "egregious" hiding somewhere within his vast, vast body of purple literature. He swiftly and instantly put down his once sacred book, and slowly, with a profoundly resigned look on his pale face, sighed in the general direction of his desktop-based computer machine, which, as you know, he is presently attempting to write his most ultraviolet magnum-opus.

Yeah. Just don't do it, okay? Quantity =/= quality, and thesaurus abuse is a crime punishable by flogging.

I, quetzalcoatl, reserve the right to kick you out of the roleplay at any time. I also reserve the right to report you, to reject your profile, and all that nasty stuff you don't like.

Finally, no godmoding, no sues, no auto-hitting.

Actually, I should say no auto-dodging, because a lot of people seem to think their characters are ninjas who can dodge bullets and knives and fistfight with a polar bear and win. Your character is a normal person. Your character is human. Your character will be hurt and will probably end up dead. I won't give you a mulligan if your character is killed of, and I won't pity you. As this is a realistic roleplay, your character can and will be scratched, dented, broken, killed. If you venture too far out of the realm of believability, (there is no plot armor here) I will speak up.

This includes knowledge only available above the fourth wall, (that couldn't be written off as 'a good guess') constantly dodging punches and winning fights, unrealistic characters, etc.


*This is the very bottom of the barrel, the bare minimum of what we'll accept. If you can pull together something better than that, then you're welcome here.

[quetzalcoatl]

The first thing that strikes you is pain. Sharp pain, like a rail spike has been driven through your skull, down your spine, that stretches from the tips of your fingers to the bottoms of your feet.

Your eyes crack open, slowly thanks to the thick layer of sleep that surrounds them.

The second thing that strikes you is the darkness.

You wonder for a moment if you’re blindfolded. Touching your hands to your eyes (and poking them, smooth.) you can call that myth safely busted. Your eyes dance with patterns and swirls as your mind tries to form something in the darkness. Nothing comes. The darkness is too complete.

Shuffling beside you. You nearly scream, heart feeling as if it was ripped from your body. Your kidnapper? A monster? Another human?

They run through the same routine, too terrified to acknowledge you; maybe they’re pretended they didn’t notice.

The room fills with noise: the ruffling of clothes, the groans of a painful wake-up call, and…sobbing?

A moment passes. You realize the sobbing is your own.

Static from the darkness. It surrounds you, echoes off hollow walls and reverberates through your body. The room even sounds endless. Dread spreads in your stomach like ink in water. A voice speaks, as hollow and metallic as the room. An obvious synth.

“Welcome all.” it begins, pitch shaky enough and automated enough to put any Bieber hit to shame. Perhaps it’s laughing. “The facility you sit in now contains over 47,000 feet of space, and extends 200 feet up.” It laughs now, “There are six of you and well over 100, shall I say, ‘beings’ for you to deal with. You have one week to kill them all and escape. Hurry hurry, now.”

The message turns to static, but doesn’t disappear. Is the intercom still on? Was the static there before? Is it listening?

The flickering of florescent lights. You catch a glimpse of the scared faces around you; normal, completely normal, just like you. All are startled by the lights which seer your retinas. The florescence struggle to start up, and it’s clear they have not been used in ages. The room around you literally wraps around you, in one massive cylinder with a ceiling so high you must cock your head all the way up to see it. The light of the florescence barely reaches you from up there, coating the room in a dull light. Just enough.

Just enough to see more than you’d like to see.

The walls (that you assume were at one time white) have been victim to years of rust and decay, and only the occasional sprinkling of eggshell flecks reminds you of their original colour. The scent of rust us heavy, and the walls are sickly shades of brown and red. Even the floor, which you assume were cool gray tiles, have become chipped, dull, coated in a heavy layer of dust and dirt.

You glance at the people that surround you. One thing is clear to all of you: you must escape.

But how?

[quetzalcoatl]

This is the profile skeleton:



Code:

[size=11][b]ROLE HERE[/b][/size]
[list][size=9][b]Name:[/b] first middle last
[b]Preferred name:[/b] what they're usually called
[b]Age:[/b] your character's age
[b]Personality:[/b] a quick run-down on your character's personality (1 - 3 paragraphs)
[b]Bio:[/b] a quick run-down on your character's history (1 - 3 paragraphs)
[b]Appearance:[/b] a quick run-down on your character's appearance (1 - 3 paragraphs or a picture)[/size][/list]



And this is what it looks like filled:


MALE #1

Name: John Derek Doe
Preferred name: Derek
Age: 21
Personality: Derek came from a troubled home. He grew up loving a good fight and has a temper problem. not afraid to hit girls.
Bio: Derek dropped out of school at 16 to work with his father on the construction site. Their relationship is strained but they don't talk much. Starting to regret not finishing school, but doesn't have the money to go back.
Appearance:


Please post your finished profiles on the profile thread, where quetzalcoatl will approve them.

[quetzalcoatl]

Female #1

Name: Charlotte Lorraine Hester

Preferred name: Charlotte

Age: 28

Personality: At 28, Charlotte is well set in the world and ready for whatever's to come. Employed under the highly successful and very powerful owner of a local bank, she specializes in the area of...'disposal' and protection. Her job has turned her very cold and cynical, with a calculating demeanor and a lone-wolf complex. You'll have to earn this woman's trust.

Bio: Charlotte has been employed under the bank owner for over five years, and has established a rather...bi-polar relationship with him. Her entire life before then is rather 'multiple-choice', as she likes to put it, never telling the same story. Sometimes she's a barista at the local cafe, sometimes she's a nurse, sometimes she's an aspiring director, sometimes she's none of the above. No one really knows, and it's likely no one will ever find out.

One thing is for sure, though. Charlotte's left eye is missing, and instead she keeps a glass eye with a very pale green iris - a high contrast to her almost burning emerald iris on the right.

Whatever she's done in the past, it's certainly let her embittered. One can hardly blame her, though, just look at that eye...

Appearance: See picture.

[quetzalcoatl]

BLANK LULZ.

[quetzalcoatl]

BLANK LULZ.

[quetzalcoatl]

Naomi Solomon !isamazingisn'tshe?
yesll - - Quetzalcoatl

xxxxxxxxxxx◄ ◄ ◄ It's been a long time c o м ι и ɢ • °
Been so ( l o n g )xxxxxx
but I gotta s h i n e, shine, shine
my [[ я υ s т ч ]] halo

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