Roleplaying

Downing the drink wasn't too much of a problem, though Verit wasn't too much of a fan of its almost-solid-but-not-quite consistency. He prefered something solid that he could actually chew.

After forcing himself to swallow what remained and internally recoiling at the feeling of it sliding thickly down his throat, Verit was very much ready to be done with the whole attached to a table thing- and needless to say, he was very disappointed when being released was not the next thing to happen.

There was too much talking, restraining, and force-feeding happening and not enough anything else.

"Why does that matter?" Verit snapped, evidently unhappy that his promised reward was being withheld from him. 

Celeste's eyes narrowed and darkened until meeting them was like facing a demon head on. Jett huffed out a quiet breath, immediately recognizing the devilish look she wore. Even in his amusement, he retreated a few steps back as if attempting to step out of range.

She slapped the meat down on the side table with the force of someone enraged beyond reckoning with. Her right hand snatched at his throat and held him down firmly. As if she was holding back all of her rage with a fragile wall of rice paper, she inched her head slowly towards his own until she had moved past it and her lips were nearly touching his ear.

“It matters to me.”

Her voice was only a whispered hiss, but despite the fact that it was swaddled in darkness it was truly a beautiful sound. Jett had once described it as evoking the image of beautifully formed bare feet, encircled at the ankle with a chain of small bells, padding down a path of luscious moss found only at the center of the oldest forests. He claimed that hearing it was like his mind was being massaged, like hearing sunlight speak, but nothing he said could convince her to utilize her voice more often than she had to.

Yep, the population was definitely infected with a contagious form of insanity.

Verit growled, eyes narrowing as he met the mutt's face. His vision was already blurring beyond recognition from the chokehold, shapes turning into indefinite patches of light and dark. He saw nothing.

"Then you care about the wrong things," Verit wretched out past the grip on his throat. He was going to pass out, but his sense of fear was muted as it usually was in situations like these. He didn't even care if he lived or died, how was it another's problem to give a rat's ass in his place?

Scent of meat. An ice collar around his neck. Verit stopped breathing.

Celeste knew the second his breathing stopped – it was as if she could feel into his windpipe with her fingers. Still brimming with anger, she placed her hands atop his chest in a position above his lungs, She closed her eyes and let the more alien instincts bred in her take over, and it was as if she could properly feel what the ghoul did. For a few moments it seemed there was no change, but something she felt ensured that he could hold out on his own. The second she was sure he wasn't headed for death's door she stormed off. Before she disappeared behind a thick curtain of bone beads she signed something sharply to Jett.

Once she had left, Jett stepped forward to play doctor and lightly slapped at the ghoul's cheek, hoping to bring him around. A stool was pulled up, and he sat next to the table of which he leaned across, grabbed up the scrap of meat his friend had tossed aside, and used it as a makeshift smelling salt.

Jett's face was blank but tinged around the edges with a grimness, setting a serious mood in the silence that had followed the healer's outburst. Though his eyes seemed focused on his single task at hand and he moved precisely, an aura about him gave off the feeling that much more was going on in his mind.

“Don't make her angry like that. She might not save your life ever again.”

Verit's head lolled limply to the side, not doing much to wake him up. Within moments, however, a slight whistling sound came from his lips and shallow breaths moved his chest. His ghoulish bodily functions quickly regained control and kicked his system back into action after the brief pause in functionality. The grogginess accompanying the revival wasn't something Verit was unused to.

Verit nipped absentmindedly at the meat dangled in front of his face when he fully came to, squinting up at the human perched beside him. He had a knack for waking up after non-optimal situations recently it seemed.

"And why do I care?" Verit said. It didn't matter to him if a mutt wanted to save him or not. If the next day it found him getting mulled by a gang in a back ally it was perfectly fine by him if it walked right past without batting an eye. It would make no difference to him that he'd live a day less because he hurt some mutt's feelings.

It really shouldn't care. Not about him, especially if he bothered it so much. He didn't ask to be 'saved'. He doubted the 'remedy' would do him any good. Why save him if it meant grief on the mutt's part? It was too much work with absolutely zero return. It was its choice. The mutt wanted him alive this one time? It was going to have to deal with his existence, then. Didn't want him alive the next time? The mutt could be Verit's personal VIP platinum-club-member guest. Simple as that.

His careless words were unnecessarily scathing, sure. Were they always? Naturally. Verit was good at making people angry, and he already expected to be hit.

Jett dropped the meat on the ghoul and reached across him again to grab up another slice. He stared at it in a deeply interested manner before putting it down by the arm of the patient. Naturally, he was curious to where she'd gotten something so fresh, but he kept his mouth shut – she could likely hear through the walls if she wanted, and he didn't like asking useless questions when she was in a poor mood.

“You seem to care about eating the way she cares about healing.”

He stood and crossed the room in three quick steps, snatching a cup off of a shelf and reaching for a stray pitcher full of cold tea. He thought it was, anyhow, tea (it smelled enough like it), but in Celeste's house it was hard to tell.

“If someone felt others' pain the way you feel hunger it's easy to understand why they would heal,” Jett added, dropping back the glass and finishing the liquid in one go.

He turned around to watch the ghoul, unwilling to let his guest leave capable eyesight.

Verit consumed the morsel, tastelessly as usual, and didn't answer. The comments, while directed at him, weren't questions. Drumming his fingers absentmindedly on the table, Verit had half a mind to tell the human something it didn't want to hear. In the end, however, he decided it wasn't worth it and instead went back to attempting to free himself, picking at his restraints.

He wondered offhandedly when the two were thinking about releasing him- if they intended to do so at all, that was. They had to go unconscious sometime... But then again, with the way the human was eyeing him, Verit had the feeling he might be out of luck.

Tired once again after the brief struggle, Verit simply turned and stared at the human unsettlingly. Maybe he could bore it to death. Or at least get it to give up on talking to him.

Jett stared back, eyes unwavering in dull curiosity. He strode across the room and knelt down to file through his bag until his fingers retreated with a small leather book and a crude stick of charcoal. He propped himself back up on the stool and thumbed through the thick, homemade pages of the journal until he stopped at a blank section that he immediately began taking the pencil to.

“Want more?”

Jett flicked a pinkie in the direction of the raw meat without moving or looking from his work. On the page the shape of a head was appearing, shading smudged into place with the tips of his fingers. The face that started to rise into reality began to resemble the ghoul before him. As soon as the eyes were in place it was unmistakably the patient, and the hair added only solidified things. Notes were jotted below the sketch and to the left of it, though many gaps were left unfilled.

Verit narrowed his eyes at the human, huffed and turned the other way in spite. "... Creep," he muttered to himself under his breath. Verit gave up trying to rationalize the human a long time ago- he'd drive himself mad before he figured anything about it out. Why were things so complicated now that the human was around? He didn't need to experience being force-fed plant puke like it was happy hour, and he definitely wasn't jumping for freaking joy at being strapped down to a table for nine years of his life. Verit began regretting ever stepping into that alleyway. He'd have saved himself a lot of trouble otherwise.

Celeste reappeared halfway through the beaded curtain, face still darkly tinged with disgust and anger. Her hands signed rough and sharply at Jett, entirely devoid of any soft or rounded motions. The emotions cluttered inside had no problem with expressing their selves through her movements as easily as they would have through voice making the mood of her thoughts clear as daylight. When she finished she jerked her chin in the direction of the ghoul, commanding Jett to relay her words.

For a moment the two of them stared one another down, him pushing to resist what she had told him to say, but his eyes averted, and she regained control of the room. Her posture seemed to align and swallow up any energy Jett may have found to protest again, and, with an emotionless face but a defeatist attitude, he turned to the patient.

“Celeste's keeping you.”

Verit abruptly turned to face the human, jerking upwards in shock before his restraints pinned him right back down again.

"You're what-" he exclaimed in disbelief, eyes turning from the human to the mutt. His expression hardened from confusion to a mixture of anger and incredulity. "You can't do this!" he shouted, straining his restraints so hard marks were being left on his skin. "I'm not a pet!" he growled. Verit felt a pressure building underneath his sternum, and he bucked and fought the harnesses with a vengeance, eyes burning with fury.

Verit hissed harshly, cursing the rig of belts for stopping him from mauling the mutt and taking off right then. Verit's hands clenched into white-knuckled fists as he fought to rip his neck and torso straps off by sheer force.

Like an angel of darkness, Celeste swept across the room to a battered lock box, thumbed in the combination, and smashed her fist against it, causing it to pop open. Her fingers picked up a bottle and popped its cork. As she dug around a small bin with one hand she signed to Jett with the other.

“She doesn't think you can take care of yourself while your sick,” he told the ghoul.

The healer found a thin needle and stuck it in the bottle, sucking the mystery liquid into the attached vial. She stalked over, needle held upright like a threatening dagger. Her free hand fluttered away, and Jett moved to answer her demands. His hands encircled their patient's arm and held it steady, and without hesitation Celeste plunged the needle in through flesh. The liquid emptied into his system, and as she pulled the needle away she nodded to Jett.

“Temporary paralysis – we're transporting you to the cage.”

Verit's motions became frenzied, and he hissed and thrashed about like a wild animal. His skin was already searing to the touch as he was descended upon, his vision tunneling as the needle went in. He snarled and resisted the effects of the shot as much as he could, but a red haze was already settling over his mind.

He gave the mutt a seething glare, lunging upwards in a last ditch attempt to hurt, bite, tear, maim, before falling back onto the table. Verit's lips were still pulled back in a snarl as he went unconscious, head listing to the side as his body went completely limp. Angry red marks remained where the restraints had chafed against his skin- some drawing crimson, others quickly bruising black. New red began coursing down Verit's face from his nose, running into his hair and dying its white strands dark maroon.

Celeste began unstrapping the restraints, inspecting each struggle-induced welt she came to find. Upon reaching his head, she picked up a nearby rag and wiped away as much of the blood as she could before Jett stepped up to the table, jacket in place and bag slung across his shoulders. She helped prop and slide the ghoul into his arms and moved to open the door, unprepared for the view outside.

It was pitch black out.

Lanterns and fires were being lit in the majority of the shacks – only those privileged enough, like Celeste, who's job ensured her special rights, could afford what little electricity the Collective had access to. The outdoor fire pits were surrounded by panicked people trying to light them in the dark, a sure sign that the sunlight had fled suddenly with no warning or waning of the light. Not a child's silhouette could be seen, but every dog was chained with a long leash to its building, hair raised, teeth bared. The perimeter zombies were creating a terrible racket, and those with guarding duty, whether on the roster that night or not, rushed to take up their posts, tripling, even quadrupling the strength of the camp security. Something was wrong.

Celeste signed menacingly at Jett, Don't let anyone touch him.

He bounced his head once in reply then bundled their patient closer to his chest. The two of them took off into the darkness without a light to guide their feet, only memories and the lit windows around them. As kindling and wood finally caught spark, the pits that spotted the camp came to life, casting odd shadows across the ground. Celeste grabbed Jett's arm, pulling him between shanties and behind buildings, taking a roundabout way to the cages.

The structure containing the prison and infirmary was abandoned, lacking guard and desk keeper. Celeste pushed through the door and rushed, with Jett on her heels, through a small hallway until they came into a room lined with thick barred cells. She opened one and held it until he had placed the ghoul on a bed and came back out, nodding at her to lock it. He pulled up a chair for the healer, and then he went to stand guard at the door.

Awesome.

Verit awoke for the fourth time that day, from the third forcefully induced unconsciousness. At this point he considered knocking himself out just to get it over wi-

Verit's insides suddenly constricting in a hot burst of pain, and he sprung from the bed in a frenzy. He was steady on his feet for less then a second before he collapsed onto the nearest wall, bracing his elbows against it while he brought up his 'dinner'. Wetness sprung to Verit's eyes as he retched uncontrollably, body shaking with the violence of the action.

His internals now satisfied with the nice new semi-solid puddle of red decorating the cell floor, Verit toppled to his side, rolling onto his back to stare blankly at the ceiling. His body wasn't quite aware that the convulsions had ended, and still told him something was trying to rip him in half at the torso.

"I hate my life."

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.