Roleplaying

Verit's eyebrow quirked upwards of its own accord, mildly surprised by the female mutt's outburst. Or rather, the effect it had on the female human. Really, Verit had been thinking about the slowest, most painful way he could kill the human- for numerous reasons, of course- and really wasn't hurting in any way that warranted such a retort.

Eh, not like the Agoarn hadn't said it earlier. Maybe humans were more suspectable to mutt hypnosis, or Agoarns in general just weren't very persuasive. Whatever.

...

Okay, so he was being the problem now. What, it's not like he asked to take up foraging time now did he, for the third time? If the human had just punched him out and left him there the first time they met, none of them would be in this less-than-ideal situation. Really, the logic here was flawed. Just another reason generosity is counterintuitive. Verit was surprised the human- and his mutt for that matter- hadn't been kicked out yet.

... What? It's not like Verit had killed anybody yet. As far as he was concerned he was on excellent doggy behaviour for the entirety of the walk. Don't look at him like that.

Verit's knuckles cracked of their own accord, and he shifted his weight to his other leg nonchalantly. Not his problem.

“Ohhh,” Greg said, catching on to the real source of her tears and sticking a finger out to trace a small, thoughtful circle on her kneecap.

Eol scraped a foot into the ground in irritation, flicking his tail back and forth roughly. “I didn't like that counter. She's new, she's foolish. She might take matters into her own hands.”

The boys all nodded in agreement. Celeste knew what they meant, but she barely felt capable of facing any sort of leadership to request the ghoul's placement in her care. If the counter spoke up first, she could get in trouble... but so could they. Sooner was far better than later. This knowledge tugged at her, dragging her head up and setting weariness upon her shoulders, pushing them into beautiful posture. Her fingers tightened around the leash in her hand, and, after turning to Jett, she began to sign with her free hand.

Let's go now, before the counter finishes duties.

“Only if it's Coewal,” Greg cut in, popping up onto his feet. “I think he'll like the ghoul.”

“No one listens to him.”

“Eol. You don't know that.”

The Agoarn gave his alien-ghoul friend a hefty glare. “You don't sit in on Council, Greg. A new age ghoul is the last thing he'll convince the others to keep inside the gates. No one questions Celeste, but Coewal can't be our confidant.”

“No, we go to Coewal.”

Jett moved forward, grabbing the reigns of the conversation. He looked tired, but his presence stole up any protest, vacuuming it in and converting it to a steely strength. There was no arguing with him. Celeste noted, however, something the others had missed, which was a tiny perk of his eyebrow, his telltale sign that an idea was blooming inside his green gardened mind.

“Ready for a walk, ghoul?” Jett asked, turning to give the ghoul a challenging look.

Oh yay, suspense, one more thing he'll need to think about. Verit was once again reminded as to why he didn't enjoy being in the company of large amounts of sentient beings for extended periods of time. There were way too many of them.

Verit's attention turned back to the human as he caught its green gaze. Oh, my legs are falling off, he thought-said, making as if he was about to faint. Easily catching himself, Verit looked back to the human with a malicious smirk. Opening and snapping his mouth shut with a click and a small, quick lunge forward, he stomped in the direction of the human in what mirrored a miniature version of a guard zombie lurching against its leash. It might have given anybody targeted a small jump scare, but it wasn't quite enough that he pulled on his own collar or warranted an actual tug.

Verit realized that once he got his voice back he'd probably end up only capable of mimicking creatures usually restrained by a leash or rein of some sort.

“Look, he dances!” Greg yelled excitedly before launching into detailed footwork and tipping an imaginary hat at the end of his mini performance.

“Cute – you two should be a dancing duo,” Jett said dryly.

Celeste glanced at the ghoul, and gave him a small nod before moving forward with the leash in hand. They headed the direction the Hand In detail had come from towards the more central part of the shanty town where two story buildings, though derelict and dark, seemed to tower regally above the small shacks that covered the majority of the camp. The appearance of the people living around this area was just the same as anywhere else in the Vaudeville – no one in this area was richer or more privileged. It seemed that, disregarding living quarters, (which were all equally in poor condition), everything seemed fairly divided and kept.

Celeste padded onward, determined to get the meeting over with. She had to admit that she did like Coewal, though he was hard to understand at times and often was incapable of expressing his coded thoughts properly. Whatever Jett had rolling around in his mind was sure to work, or so she hoped. He often saw more potential in people than anyone else could, and she desperately hoped that was the case this time around. Coewal wasn't someone to play with when politics were the topic.

The small party mounted the steps of an oddly decorated house strung with unlit lights and glass fragments. The porch posts were spotted with mirror and stained glass shards, throwing odd movements into the corners of their eyes, distracting anyone who wasn't used to it. The steps, though bowed inward, were study enough, and Celeste trotted up them quickly. Delicate fingers grasped at a bell pull and tugged gently, causing the sound of hundreds of tiny bells to ring throughout the house.

Then they waited.

Before anything else could happen, Verit was tugged along once again with the unrelenting pressure of the leash. Seeing as he pretty much was only guided along by a collar and handcuffs, Verit was starting to think the rest was just for decorative purposes. Or was there actually a saddle missing.

The rest of the walk continued in delightful silence, but Verit found that interrupted as he got very, very distracted by little pieces of light being reflecting incessantly into his eyeballs. Squinting and baring his teeth out of instinct, Verit forced his eyes to look ahead, fighting the urge to roll them as if it would shake off the fractals. Far too fidgety, the shadowy flickers lingering at the edges of his vision were making Verit want to gouge his eyes out.

Resisting the urges to start whenever some other odd, shiny piece threw an unexpected shape at him, Verit waited through the sound of nine million miniature alarms with a deadpan expression on his face. This wasn't going to be a place he was going to enjoy terribly much. He'd been through minefields of broken glass before, but none of them felt like such a visual torturehouse as this one.

The door creaked open. An odd face peered out and beckoned them in with curling fingers. The hall was pitch black, but farther down the carpeted corridor a sliver of light sliced at the floor through the crack of a door. The mysterious figure had vanished, casting just the tip of his shadow through the light. They followed the worn and crumbling threads to the room, and, with a hesitant hand, Celeste pushed the door open.

Inside a warm fireplace with pastel glazed bricks held a crackling fire in its mouth. Candles, like little winking eyes, sat all around the room, many encased in clear glass tubes with open tops. Any furniture was faded and sagging with age, and all decorations were of odd sorts placed all throughout the room and even found tacked to the ceiling. It was casually chaotic but inviting and safe simultaneously, confusing the mind and calming the heart.

The figure in question was just as much of a curiosity as his home itself. Since his arrival at the Vaudeville Collective no one had been able to agree on his appearance (only his gender) which seemed to change for each person's eye, and he obstinately refused to name his origin, age, and even true eye color, thus leaving himself shrouded in confusion and darkness.

Jett had told Celeste once that he saw a hybrid resembling that of a caterpillar in a centaurian style with the upper body of a man and the lower of the larvae. Eol claimed to see a short, withered yet youthful alien of pale skin and deep, pooling eyes. Greg said his view of the being was that of a six-legged mutt that had a face not far from a feral animals and teeth more pointed than an arrow.

Celeste, however, saw something much more humanoid. Through her eyes she saw an alien, light brown of skin, with a detailed crescent tattoo encircling one eye. His hair was deeper than black and shimmered like an oil spill in the sunlight, and his eyes sparkled blue like a monochromatic kaleidoscope. He was pierced with black studded rocks, surely not from Earth, his fingers were long and spindly, decorated with dark jewels, and, under the crisp white of his shirt darker marks, likely more inked designs, were just barely discernible.

“Celeste,” he said, throwing his long arms open. “Lovelier every day, and you've even brought a friend. How charming – how can I help?”

Verit was pretty much just confused out of his mind. The psychedelic layout coupled with the sheer oddity of its owner was messing with him. The glass shards and crap had been disorientating enough, but nothing had prepared Verit for the sheer chaos that was inside.

Stuff, stuff everywhere and everything in and of itself was its own mind-bending puzzle. Verit's train of thought screeched to a stop every time he tried to observe something, anything in the house- that is, if one could even call such a place one. It was more like a- a-

... Auhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-

Verit's nose was only feeding him nonsense, simultaneously telling him pungent-as-HELL and definitely-human and cockroach and Chinese food and steamed plastic wrappers and rat poison and fried circuitry and five-day-old-road kill and-

The only thing Verit knew for sure was that he wanted to smash his head repeatedly against a wall.

The healer moved forward deeper into the room, keeping the leash as slack as possible. It wasn't terribly obvious, but after a few moments of eying her patient she had discerned his discombobulated state and didn't want to drag him any further into the room than she had to. She had been there before on multiple occasions, yet there were still new things to be found in each corner and nook as if the room's collection was ever shifting, not unlike its owner's appearance.

This is Illness. Jett found him in a poor state and brought him to me, and I believe it would be best if he were kept in my care until I see improvement of his health, Celeste signed.

Coewal scratched his forehead and stared at her hands. He didn't seem keen to answer and even turned away for a moment to readjust a picture frame propped up against a pile of books on the shelf behind him. His fingers stroked its edges, pulling away dust which clung to his skin thickly. He inspected it, bringing it close to his eyes before puffing it away with a jet of air from his lips in a childish manner.

“I find the weather quite unpredictable these days, don't you? It's wicked and fickle, highly rude in its standing, though I do confess I love the fall of darkness. The fireplace pits remind me of stars pocketing the ground, and the night breeze! I find it all invigorating,” he said, smiling politely.

Celeste kept her hands still, waiting for his real answer to her words, the one she would be able to understand. Jett had theorized before that Coewal never said anything without reason, though it was masked behind imagery, invisible symbolism, and his own puzzling way of thinking. At times he revealed what his words meant, but more often than not he avoided explanation and moved forward. That was one of the more glaring things about him that bothered the rest of the Council so and gained him such an unpopular opinion.

“When his health has improved do you intend on releasing him back into the city?”

Celeste paused at his question. I... believe... he might be a danger to himself... He lacks any sense of self care or discipline and has no regard for his life...

Coewal turned to the ghoul and smiled broadly with a tinge of eeriness. “She intends to keep you. Delightful, don't you think, to have a healer like Celeste tending to you?

Verit listed and stumbled slightly, his eyes glazing over before he straightened. Everything he looked at or detected was a mental trap, so he deigned to stare at the insides of his eyelids instead and breathe through his mouth before he puked or something. A ways away from him, Verit faintly registered somebody talking about the weather. In a deranged manner.

Where was a wall when you needed to knock yourself out?

Verit was feeling warm and lightheaded, a prickling sensation at his fingertips. Forcing the feeling down, Verit swallowed harshly, quite welcoming the raw, grounding complaint his throat gave in return.

Feeling better, Verit opened his eyes. Which proved to be a mistake, because he was met with the creepiest hollow-faced grin. It belonged to middle-age-ish human with dark eyes and graying hair, white marks seemingly painted onto its face. A pair of skeletal, many-pronged antlers arched above its head, shards of colored glass strung across the spurs with twine. The human was seemingly normal save for one thing about its face that was inherently wrong- something which was impossible to put a word too, like some unseen disease lurking just below the surface, undetectable to the eye yet unmistakable to the gut.

Without warning, Verit lunged at the antlered male, teeth bared and bloodthirsty intent obvious. A savage snarl ripped past his raw throat, one akin to that of an animal. Verit was wild and dangerous- he couldn't be kept, and he was going to demostrate it.

All at once the leads snapped taut, catching the ghoul mid-lunge. Celeste, so small and light, found herself pulling against her rope as hard as she could to steady him from being yanked backwards by the force of the boys.

“Aw, it looked like he was going in for a kiss,” Greg laughed, a grin stretching across his lips once the ghoul was steadied.

“I haven't had a kiss in quite a while...” Coewal said, eyes drifting to a corner of the room in thought.

“I would kiss you, Coe, but you're really ugly,” Greg offered apologetically.

The alien being shook his head as a frown twisted his face into seriousness. “We're not allowed to steal from golden apple trees, you know the consequences of that. The Hesperides would be tainted, and their garden would wither. The apples would fade to red and lose all immortality, and we would be responsible for breaking the golden sunlight, it would be absolutely disastrous.”

Greg nodded slowly, looks of puzzlement etched into his features as he attempted to find the hidden meaning in his words, but to no avail.

Coewal turned back to Celeste and gave her a gentle smile, inspecting her carefully like he was observing a painting in a museum. He walked around her and kept exactly two feet away at all times, never straying closer even by an inch or a misstep. The steady gaze of his limited itself to her shoulders and up, pausing to linger on certain features longer than others.

“You look tired,” Coewal finally said, breaking his gaze to give the ghoul one of equal intensity, this time moving to circle near him. “I like your ghoul. You may keep him. I intend on informing the Council tomorrow near noon, prepare to bring him over to meet them should they request both of your presences. Now! Go attend your duties, I'm quite busy.”

With that he turned and sat down in a chair, staring at the fire blankly, ignoring his company in a sulky manner. Celeste nodded to the boys, and they turned aside to let her pass through the door back out into the hallway. She tugged gently at the ghoul's leash and moved quickly from the house, eager to escape from the stifling warmth back into the coolness of the night.

The leather straps pulling hard against him, a silent yelp was wrestled out of Verit's throat as he was yanked back. His feet skidded to the ground as he was pulled away, and he took a few steps backwards to fully stop the momentum. Straining against the harness stubbornly, Verit glared wordlessly at the thing as if it were the cause of all his problems.

Verit didn't cease his hard gaze when it approached him, and he snapped and struggled in an attempt to get somewhat close enough to do something to it. It wasn't like it made much a difference, though- he might as well have been chained to a building. Fatasses.

Still struggling at his restraints even as he was being lead away, Verit stubbornly refused to give up his futile efforts. The coldness of the outside air slapped him in the face, and he gave one last surge before settling back into his brooding composure, his teeth still itching to bite something. He glared at the males in turn in a way that clearly meant 'this is all your fault'.

Jett stumbled out onto the porch as he focused all of his patience on the ghoul and not snapping at him. He didn't pretend like it wasn't unreasonable for the patient to be in such a foul mood – he knew he would have been in such an incident, and he would have been putting up a fight, too.

Celeste began leading the way back towards the jail and infirmary, and the boys followed dutifully like a pack of puppies. Jett couldn't help but be glad to have left Coewal's place of residence. The creature had always left him uncomfortable whenever Celeste was there with them. He couldn't tell no matter how hard he watched if Coewal felt the way about her that Eol (and likely Greg) did, and that bothered him greatly.

They tread through the camp amidst shadows and voices, loud and rowdy with common conversation and song. Often times people called out to the healer when her hair shined in the light of a fire to wish her a good evening and pointlessly invite her to join them at their pit. The air, though crisp, was laden with good cheer and friendliness, reminiscent of old autumn nights before Earth had belonged to anyone other than the humans. Mouth watering scents rose up into the sky to intermingle with the smoke and drag flocks of people over to their desired bonfire, causing the camp to bustle and flow energetically. Jett had to admit – it felt like home.

“Oi, Jett! Get yerbum ovah here an' 'ug me!”

The party turned in the direction of the bellowing voice, and a figure painted in firelight silhouette waddled towards them, arm waving a ladle. He obeyed immediately with the solemness of one heading to greet a respected and somewhat feared older relative, wrapping his arms around the lady and nearly getting crushed in the return hug.

“Yeh beddar be headin' to my pit, boy,” she warned, threatening him with the cooking utensil.

He put his hands up in surrender. “Of course, Mellie, there's no other cook for me.”

The large woman turned to peer suspiciously at the ghoul. “Who's yer friend?”

“This is Celeste's patient.”

Having been mildly disgusted by everybody's sheer reverence for the female mutt, Verit hadn't been particularly enjoying the evening. Grumbling silently to himself as he was lead along like a mule, Verit was already feeling the alienation. Sorely missing his freedom, Verit was already hating the atmosphere- he'd have to figure out how to get out and quick, there was no way he was living down his days with a collar permanently around his neck.

He stood stiffly as a voice stopped the group, eyeing the thing that was in the very round, very loud human's hand. It didn't look particularly dangerous, at least not in such meaty hands. Verit was thinking the human would probably be decently slow to say the least, probably best to attack from behind.

His gaze wandered back up to the human's face upon his mention, meeting its squinty eyes. Wow, it must have perfect vision, a full ninety degrees of visibility. Verit gave a mirthless grin that was more showing off his teeth than anything else.

Mellie hooted loudly, cracking Jett on the arm with her ladle. It made a sound smacking noise, even with his shirt sleeve in place, undoubtedly leaving a bruise if not more. Despite it, however, he didn't sway nor twitch, not even in expression. She didn't seem to notice any damage that she could have done, still busy drowning in merriment, and doubled over with laughter until her face had turned red and lungs wheezed.

“Looki' tha' expression, Jett, wooh! Yeh have yerself a nasty 'un righ' thar, luv,” she cackled. “Wha' kind o' vittles do 'e take to?”

“Long pork, Mellie,” Greg piped, winking in her direction with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

She shrieked loudly in excitement, throwing her hands into the air and waddling at the mutt full speed, catching him up in a hug strong enough to make the cracking of his back quite audible. He kindly returned her affections with labored pats on the back as he struggled to breathe with his face twisted in pain, actions that made him a hero with many victims of her famed iron embraces. Finally, she placed him back on the ground where he wobbled for a moment before steadying fully out of her sight as she had already turned to address the ghoul. Behind her back, Jett passed him an apologetic and respectful glance, amazed at how well his friend had handled the attack. There was a reason, he thought, that him and Greg got along so well.

“Aight, luv, want yer meat grilled, stewed, raw on bone, or raw in stew?” Mellie asked, smiling broadly at the new ager.

Verit stayed stock still, a slight frown on his face as he forced himself not to startle as the large human turned on him. He had expecting some serious punishment to be dealt out after seeing the likes of which the male mutt and human had endured, and while he didn't show it, he was pretty much ready to scuttle away at a moment's notice the minute the lumbering beast took a step towards him.

If the human came at him, Verit had the sinking feeling that he wasn't going to make it with his leashes everywhere. Top speed didn't seem too fast, but if you were tethered to the spot it didn't make much of a difference.

... Oh, food?

From somewhere deep within him Verit found a scrap of voice left partly unshredded after the earlier fiasco. An innocent grin reinstated itself on his face, and he rasped out a single word- "Whole."

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.