Roleplaying

Greg stared at the ghoul's hand for a moment before slowly dragging his gaze up to his face. His lips parted and began to curl, lighting his face up in a troublesome grin. A small laugh bubbled up from his chest, and he shook his head, running a quick hand through his hair.

“I like you, you're great. I hope you don't die, you're too awesome. Hey, Celeste! Can I keep him?”

Celeste turned her head as the two others did, leaving all of their eyes on Greg. She stared and blinked for a moment before slowly shaking her head and letting her lips light with a small smile. Her hands moved bouncily, and before Greg could ask for anyone to fill in the gaps Jett had began to speak.

“She says you'd forget to feed him and accidentally kill him.”

A deep rumble quietly resonated from Eol's chest. Celeste felt her eyelids grow heavy at the sound of his laugh – she'd always compared it a neck massage, it was absolutely delightful to hear. Around her Jett and Greg seemed to be affected similarly, eyes dimming and heads drifting downward. They all blinked the feeling away, shifting around until they felt awake and present. It took her the longest to pull back, but once she had she'd almost wished she hadn't because she came back in time to hear Greg try and drag Lorin, the girl, back into their conversation.

“What do you think, kötümser?” he said brightly, leaning forward to look past his friends and find the stranger. “Er, Lorin, right?”

I think I should leave. Was Lorin's immediate thought. She had clearly offended Celeste and was being dragged into what was sure to be an awkward conversation. Her first impression had been a miserable one, of course she was never good at those. Hence why she had only about... no friends. Her brutal logic and honesty combined with her inherent viciousness and lack of social skills tended to drive people away. What would she do with friends though? Share food?

The ghoul alien hybrid seemed to be the black sheep of the flock. If the new ager had given her that gesture she would've torn off an ear of his. "I think you must not get outside of camp often." She didn't dare sound hostile in her response, the conversation was already uncomfortable.

She thought for a moment she saw a figure or two skulking in the shadows, but they soon disappeared as quickly as she had noticed them. Something was off.

Greg threw his head back and laughed loudly. Celeste let out a small, fluffy chuckle at his merriment, absolutely enraptured by his ability to take everything lightly. It seemed impossible to do true damage to him, both emotionally and physically. It took her back to a memory, one of the first times she'd treated him. He'd a large gash down his back that had been made by a vandal, deep and full of dirt, made by a weapon so jagged it looked like his skin had been shredded. It had been something quite miraculous that he'd even managed to get back to the camp in that sort of condition. There was no complaint or exclamation when she'd poured medical alcohol into the cut, and as she'd patched him back up with thread and needle he continued in cheerful conversation, picking up any of the gaps she left. He was always like that, she concluded, something from another place entirely, running on another wavelength that she could only dream about where things had little pain.

“I play scavenger, too, so no worries, I know what's out there.”

He stopped and leaned forward, staring hard at the girl, though his playful demeanor didn't leave or fade for a second. A sniff and a grin later -

“Ghoul, right? I recognize kin anywhere, but I'm getting something under that...?” he said questioningly, leaning back to survey her in one, full glance.

He sure didn't act like he knew what was out there. There's no way anyone with a sane mind would be able to laugh as much if they truly understood the dangers outside of these fences. Of course the lot of them didn't appear to be very rational people.

Lorin somehow managed to resist the urge to produce a vicious snarl, displeased with the way he was eying her. She sat up straight and shifted herself into a slightly more comfortable position, convinced she was, regrettably, going to be here a while. Did she really want to mention she was half human? She never found her human blood useful, and felt she would be more powerful without it. The only benefit was a longer lifespan, which she found a pretty miserable ability. Why would anyone wish to live longer in such an apocalyptic world? "Human, I'm half human."

'Another check?'' Sem swore, that at that moment, his heart had stopped. Choking on his own saliva at the insistent whisper and the sudden appearance of the older girl behind him. The tan boy coughed weakly, trying to block out most of the sounds by clasping his hands over his mouth while looking over his shoulder with wide eyes. Next to him, Cool gave Sem a look that screamed ''keep quiet!'' The girl, Fenrir, ignored the half choking boy and went on, '' Why another one? We already knew there's a risk, why make everyone even more anxious?'' Her brows were furrowed in annoyance and her mouth was only a thin line.

'' I jus' thought 'o...'' Sem answered, standing up straight and smoothing his shirt, not feeling like giving a long explanation. From past events the male knew he probably would need about half an hour for it and he was always cut short after only five minutes. The Mischief preferred action over talking, and members such as Professor and he both knew the pains of it. The group was a proud one, organized but not the most profitable; Successes were small and losses happened rarely. It was almost a break-even. The loss of a stash had got the children agitated. Though it was not one of their major stashes, it still had been theirs, and The Mischief wanted to make up for that loss. They could use the food... and the money. But, a ghoul had been spotted. He was 'chained like a circus bear' but still a possible threat. Not only he but every individual surrounding the fire was.

Fenrir huffed and rolled her eyes before opening her mouth to speak, until a stumbling Vegas came their way. Misaligned pale blue eyes looked up in their general direction, pale hands were held outstretched before being gripped by an embarrassedFenrir. Cool's eyes narrowed, ''You lef' Vegas behind again?'' He hissed. When he was only met with silence on Fenrir's part and a shy smile from Vegas, the tall boy ran a hand through his hair and shifted his gaze upon the fire again. ''We've 'lready prepared, 'ight as well go 'n with it.''

Sem looked at the fire before glancing at the youngest members, eagerness yet also a bit of fear could be seen on their faces. Inside his head there was a battle going on and it felt like his heart had somehow moved up to his throat. Sem promised himself, that if something went wrong, he would go in and help.

He would... Maybe.

 

Not a moment later the children were headed towards the fire. Make your saddest face. Limp a little. If you can produce any tears, that'll be great. Act shy. Do not go all at once. Be polite. Stay in vision. Go for the sweet faced ones. Stay away from that ghoul.

Verit grumbled silently to himself, rolling his eyes as he turned back to face the fire pit. There was no end to the insanity. Last he checked, things were supposed to get riled when insulted, not laugh as if it'd been told a joke. Verit had managed to annoy the human and the alien-human mutt, sure, but he had yet to tick the male mutt off. He had proven to himself that those two lunatics had some sort of limit to their patience, but the ghoul-mutt just wouldn't snap.

When it did, though, it better be god dang fantastic to witness. Verit expected a firework show for his efforts.

Verit's thoughts were broken as he once again caught movement in the darkness just outside the ring of light. He frowned, sure he had seen something this time. The heat from the fire warped the air around it, but Verit was nevertheless adamant it had been real.

Verit never did take his sense of smell for granted, but there wasn't another moment in his life where he missed it as much as he did at the moment. Too many other smells, other bodies, other humans. There was no way he could dig past them all. Brows furrowing in frustration, Verit strained his eyes, disappointed in his terrible night-vision.

A couple sorry-looking scamps hobbled into view, and Verit gave them all seething glares. Begging for food, no doubt. Verit really wanted to crush all of their grime-streaked faces, especially now that they were blocking his view. Whatever. Not his problem if the camp got ransacked or some crap.

Dipping his head, Verit bit into his steak with considerable force. Violently tearing off a strip to vent his irritation, the motion also served as a small visual representation of what he could and very much intended on doing. It sent a pretty clear signal to anybody watching that Verit was very capable of dismembering and violently killing and eating any of them.

Disgust, fear, anger- all good things to be feeling at the moment. As intended. Not for those weak of stomach.

Eol rose up to all four feet, staring down at the little children before him. He crossed his arms and tilted his chin upward, challenging them with his glance. Jett himself felt small in the shadow of the Agoarn – he could imagine how tiny the kids must have felt in that moment.

“What do we have here?” the alien said, voice rumbling with raw power.

Greg and Jett exchanged quick glances and held a silent council, both agreeing that something wasn't quite right. Their minds both went to the hole in the fence.

Jett did something he hadn't done much of all day; he smiled. His face bloomed and softened, his eyes twinkled cheerfully in the glow of the fire, and his eyebrows arched kindly. All of his attention was directed at the children in a way similar to a loving uncle gazing down at his adored nieces and nephews.

“Hey there,” he greeted with a voice like warm, melted butter. “What are you kids doing here? Shouldn't you be getting food?”

Lorin glared at the street rats that shambled into view, begging for scraps. She had already finished her steak before hand as she was a quick eater. At a young age her father had taught her to do so, it was best to fill your stomach before another scavenger claimed your food.

The children thankfully left her alone. She didn't have any food to give them, and even if she did the chances of her sharing with these ankle-biters was slim to none.

There was a sudden yelp and the scent of fresh human blood behind her. She turned swiftly to see a child, cradling his injured hand. She checked her knife to discover a fresh coat of blood. Someone had been reaching into her pockets. She lifted her head up to the child, pocketing her knife. She let out a ferocious snarl and the child jumped back. She saw the figures of other children already beginning to scamper away.

"Pickpockets!"

Verit continued the consumption of his steak as if nothing had happened. The only things he ever found in his pockets were his hands, anyway, and with how well they were tied down he was doubting anybody would be able to make away with them.

His skin crawled, however, at the sound of the human's sickly sweet voice. He actually gagged a bit, the piece of meat that had been scheduled to go down his throat suddenly getting into a traffic jam. Swallowing, a shiver took Verit's spine by force, and he shifted uncomfortably as if it would get him away from the overdone, sugar-slathered tone of voice.

Nnasty.

Verit made a mental note to kill any and all children if they came within the black-haired human's vicinity. He was going to get a seizure if this became commonplace. Verit could smell the honey just dripping off of the human's voice, and nothing-nothing- like that should ever happen.

Focusing on trying to force his sides to stop trembling, Verit sat stiffly and stared forward unmovingly.

The boys jumped to action, lunging forward and scooping up as many kids as they could into their arms, holding them firmly to smother their squirming. Lorin's shout had immediately raised alarm, and someone took up the call, rousing the camp into rough action. Celeste found herself pushed into the tumult, bowled over by a small scamp and nearly trampled by the rush around her, and she gripped tightly to the ghoul's leash. It was as if the camp was overcrowded out of nowhere, like she was drowning in an ocean of bodies...

And she was terrified.

Far ahead of her she saw Jett toting two young children towards the nearest gate with Greg tight on his heels. Eol was out of sight, and even Mellie's large form was gone. Tears started crowding at her face as she pushed onward with determination, following the leash grasped in her fingers while crawling on hands and knees, ducking between people's legs. A small pocket of emptiness opened up, but before she could push up to her feet she was knocked onto her back and kicked to the side. She tried to cry out in pain, but her voice cracked and broke, splintering into sharp gasps.

Oddly enough, at that moment, her only thought was on the lead at hand and on the person who was at the other end.

Verit was jerked forward by his wrists, the plate on his lap and the last few bites it held clattering to the ground. It was like he had been sitting perfectly still one moment, and then thrown face-first into the ground the next. Dust and dirt were thrown into his eyes, and in the chaos Verit could only register the hard blows to his sides, head and limbs as people scrambled in all directions. He was being trampled, kicks sending him sprawling further underneath a sea of feet.

Forcing himself onto his hands and knees with a growl, Verit only managed to stay upright for a second before a tug swept his arms from underneath him. His chin hit the ground sending black spots into his vision, and before he could recover something collided with the side of his head with a crack. A boot caught his stomach, immediately winding him, and he hissed harshly as a foot twisted his arm into a painful position.

Oh for frack's sake-

Collecting his energy into a violent burst of strength, Verit surged to his feet, viciously elbowing everything out of the way. Ruthlessly shoving through the crowd, Verit shouldered his way towards the end of his wrist lead, knocking numerous beings to the crowd and trampling a good number of others.

Verit was choked as he sprung forward towards a gap in the crowd, something clamping down upon the leash on his collar. A strangled noise escaped his throat before he was released, but the opening was long gone as he lunged forward again. Verit's face smashed into the shoulder of a tall mutt, and the impact sent him reeling backwards. A sudden resistance at his chest nearly forced Verit to his knees, another one of his leashes becoming caught under a foot. It was gone in less than the blink of an eye and Verit nearly fell forward. The moment he righted himself, however, he wasted no time in struggling forward again.

Verit was going against the tide, and he was knocked side to side as he fought against the onslaught. His eyes stung from the dirst that had been kicked into them earlier, and the overwhelming, unending blast of scents manifested as black in his vision. Warmth was streaming from his head, neck, and down his sides. His breathing was cut short nearly every other moment as something else trampled on his collar leash, and he was run into the ground every time somebody stomped onto his cuff lead.

There, the mutt, on the ground.

With a snarl, Verit shoved a handful humans out of the way, sliding in front of the downed mutt and against the rampage, breaking the tension on his cuffs. Something's knee smashed into Verit's back, and an audible crack almost came above the clamor of the rush. The impact sent Verit froward, but he used the momentum to scoop the mutt up from the ground before the rest of the crowd could close back in.

The leash on his cuffs now off of the ground, Verit caught the lead on his collar with his teeth, hiking it up so it wouldn't drag. The crowd moved them forward for him, and Verit finally broke out of the stream next to some run-down building in where he assumed to be the camp's center. He didn't even bother to check his assumption before he let go of the mutt, collapsing onto the ground. His entire body was screaming for air and he panted heavily, his vision blurring as red seeped into his eyes. He was done. Done.

Lorin began dragging the child across the ground, her hands grasped tightly around his ankles. The street rat squirmed and flailed uselessly while tears streamed down his dirt streaked face. There would be no hope for escape now!

Dust began collecting in the poor child's hair while he shielded his injured hand. Lorin made it her job to prevent him from entering the camp again by instilling fear into the youngster. She would take a few steps away then yank him along, mimicking the motion she had seen many a predator use when lugging off it's prey. She gave special care that the child could see her bared predatory teeth and sharpened, claw like nails. Honestly she found herself having too much fun with this.

It had to come to an end though. She made it outside of the camp gate and dropped the kid, who promptly fled away thereafter. She pulled out her knife to clean it but stopped before she could. For a moment she wondered if the blood of children tasted any different than regular blood, then shook away the horrificly morbid thought wondering how the depths of her brain had mustered up such a thing.

She couldn't help herself though. Curiousity got the best of her and she he wiped a finger on the blade and tasted it disappointed, it tasted like normal human blood. As soon as she noticed Greg and Jett she wiped the blade on her pants nearly praying they didn't see that. Testing the blood of human children out of morbid curiosity was nothing to be proud of.

Jett gently set the children in his arms onto their feet then gave them a rough shove forward. They needed no more prompting, and like a shot they were off, Greg's captives quickly behind them. The two boys looked at one another and shook their heads as small grins pulled their faces into knowledgeable expressions. Greg's eyes glanced to the side, and his hand shot up, waving energetically. Jett turned and followed the direction of his friend's attention only to spot Lorin the ghoul-human. Her knife flashed against her leg as she wiped blood away from it, and for a moment she looked terribly intimidating, but that was far from enough to deter Greg.

“My kötümser!” he called, walking towards her.

When he approached he glanced around and, seeing that Jett was far enough behind him, leaned in closely to her and whispered,

“I always thought children's blood would taste sweeter – what a disappointment, right? Er, there's some blood, it, here-”

His finger darted out and wiped at her lip with impressive speed, leaving his hand nearly less than a blur. He pulled back and winked at her, the smile on his lips growing bigger. Jett reached his side and was immediately suspicious of his friend but not interested enough to say anything, even after an arm got thrown around his shoulders.

“Good call,” Jett said, giving Lorin a nod of approval.

She may have given a bad first impression, but she was shaping up in his eyes to be someone of decent value. He could even go as far to, for the most part, ignore her pessimistic attitude. It would be unfair if he expected everyone to understand Celeste's actions and her reasons behind them, and he knew it would be childish of him to hold that against her.

“Hey, you should join our scavenging group!” Greg said, leaning forward and nearly dragging Jett along with him.

The latter let out a huff of air in place of laughter, rolling his eyes upwards in amused disbelief. Greg was the only one, he thought, who would suggest something like that to a total stranger, but he admired his enthusiasm and determination.

Lorin had never been so close to tearing one's fingers off as she did now. The quick movement alarmed her and if Greg's arm was just a tad slower, she might of had time to react fast enough to do so. She was tempted to claw his face for winking at her and smiling like an idiot, and was surprised she had held back a deep and enraged growl that began tearing at her throat.

Did she really want to be in a scavenging group? They would cover less ground as a group and would be more likely to scare off potential food. However if she ran into a few gang members, being in a group would prove useful and potentially lifesaving. She decided being in a scavenging group would be best.

Did she want to be in a scavenging group with these people? Definitely not, but with her lack of social skills her chances of finding another group was slim to none.

"Of course I'd join, if you'd have me," she said like she actually had a choice. It was difficult to hold back her sarcasm, and some made it through into her words.

Greg let out a hoot of excitement. He encircled one arm around Jett's waist and used his free hand to grab Jett's, then began dancing in circles with his friend who followed limply along, not entirely devoted to the act but unwilling to get jerked around which was enough incentive to at least move his feet. Greg broke off and spun in a circle with his hands thrown above his head. Jett had a smirk on his face and was chuckling softly, but he rearranged his face back into its resting pose of alert emotionlessness quickly.

Jett had heard the bite of sarcasm in the mutt's voice, but he chose to ignore it. Greg's idea wasn't a bad one, but it wasn't his favorite, especially knowing how much Lorin's personality seemed to clash with their general group.

“Where are you housed?” he asked.

Earth is a dangerous place, whether in the hybrid-infested countryside or crumbling, dark cities, but no place is more dangerous or rough than New Chicago. Whether out on the streets or high in the penthouses, no one's truly safe.

The world has become a new place. Some people call it impossible, but others just call it apocalyptic. There's barely a government, and what's left of it is corrupt and dangerous - the people live in factions, gangs, or try to survive on their own, and the only peace between them are through the pacts that have been made. The rich thrive and keep themselves safe, but anyone unfortunate enough to be less than that spends every day hoping to stay alive.

Species:
Ghouls - they're intelligent beings, humanoid in appearance. Their skin rots, and their lifespan is determined by how long their meat stays on their bones.

Zombies - they're dumb and benign unless angered or bothered. They're brainless, so essentially they don't do anything except wander around, bump into things, and (on the occasion) turn into a terrifying killing and flesh-eating monster. These aren't characters, but they can be used by any writer as a tool, the way one would write about a pet or object a character interacts with. If you plan on using a zombie, PM me to clarify what you want to use one for.

Humans - just like us, but now they share their planet with many other species. Many feel cheated out of their home, and most scramble to keep their kind from dying out.

Aliens - there are many, many kinds, and over the years they've adapted to the newness of the world. From tall to small, these creatures come in all shapes, sizes, and origins. (PM me to clarify what kind of alien you would like to be - it has to be your own creation or one that someone else in the roleplay has made up).

Mutts - an alien-human, alien-alien, ghoul-alien offspring.

Hybrids - always different, always weird, hybrids are animal-human-zombie creatures. Whether four legs or two, each species of hybrids are as oddly animal as they are humanoid. Some can talk, most can't, but all have a highly feral nature and are willing to 'defend' themselves quickly through force.

Additional - any species you think should be on this list that isn't. PM me if you have any ideas.

None yet.

THE ROLEPLAY SLOGAN: Falcon hug that piece of beef jerkwad

No godmoding, guys - be cool

Come up with your own, unique charater, but make their personality realistic. No one likes a Mary Sue or an impossible character.

You only get to kill another character, or injure, if you have the writer's permission.

Don't let things that happen in character affect or influence how you treat someone out of character, and please don't use your character as a way to get at another roleplayer. Don't be cheap.

If you want to write a huge post, go for it! Write a huge one! But, before you do so, write up a message in the OOC chat to let everyone else know it might be a bit and to wait to post until you finish.

If you need to write a post that connects directly to a previous post, but you're worried that someone else might post before you can finish writing, say something in the OOC chat and everyone will wait to post until your done, but you only have a 4 hour window to finish up and post.

Always check the OOC before you post, just so you know what's up.

Breaking the rules can end up in being expelled (kicked out, or whatever you want to call it) from the roleplay depending on the offence.

Lastly, if you have any questions, hit me up. If you choose to be an alien, mutt, or hybrid, send me a message giving me more information on your character as well as an example of what your roleplay post might be like so I can get a sense of what kind of writer you are. If I like your moxie, you're in.