Asexual
corgi >>
corɢιlιcιoυѕ deғιɴιтιoɴ мαĸe тнeм вoyѕ ɢo loco
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Post by corgi >> on Aug 10, 2019 18:09:54 GMT -5
It happened so fast that most people didn't have time to react.
Their loved ones stood in the door, looking just as youthful and glowing as the day they last saw them. That is... if their passing was recent. Some people weren't greeted with such a wonderful sight.
And then it happened. They attacked. They feasted. And those who were caught were changed.
Their eyes were sunken and their skin pale. They walked and ran in a stagger, muscles stiff and cold. They didn't think. They were driven by instinct.
Everyone called them the Risen.
Everyone who survived, of course.i. intro ; index ii. about ; rules ; joining iii. the town iv. characters v. plots vi. members ; news
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Asexual
corgi >>
corɢιlιcιoυѕ deғιɴιтιoɴ мαĸe тнeм вoyѕ ɢo loco
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Post by corgi >> on Aug 10, 2019 18:12:17 GMT -5
Yep. A western apocalypse RP. I swear it's going to be a lot better than I'm making it seem.
Essentially.... The dead are rising. That's the main plot. Not just humans, but animals as well.
It takes place in a western town in the Midwest along the Oregon trail. [ Feel free to read the history of the town below, but you really don't have to, It's long and wordy. I just love being extra. ] The town faces great challenges as they struggle to fight the creatures that have begun to attack the town. While they battle, they will also be facing challenges amongst themselves as the creatures bring them to show the worst in themselves.
It will start right after the first wave of Risen. The town is panicking and now most of the law enforcement that would usually keep them in check are dead, including the marshall. We can figure it out from there.
And yes, I spelled 'apocalypse wrong in the header. Do not mention it.
forum rules ; Follow all forum rules. I feel that this shouldn't have to be explained anymore.
respect ; Have respect for your fellow forum member. Everyone has a voice in this group and everyone will be heard. Don't belittle and don't ignore. We don't want fighting here, and anyone caught doing so will be given a warning. If someone is starting multiple fights, they will be asked to leave the group.
lgbt+ ; This is an inclusive group and I am 100% for any identity or relationship. If this bothers you, I would recommend going somewhere else.
staying active ; I get it. Things happen. Ideally you would come on at least a couple of times a week, but sometimes you just aren't able to. I only ask that you message to let us know approximately when you will be back and how long you need. Leaving for 2 weeks with no warning will bring you to the 'inactive members', and leaving for a month will have your character removed.
literacy ; I love long posts, and the more you give the more I can give back. I would like for this to be more of an "advanced" RP. However, I understand that sometimes it gets hard to find the motivation to type a novel of a post. I just ask for approximately a paragraph minimum. Absolutely no one-liners.
sensitive topics ; I understand that the time period for this RP is often associated with horrible prejudices (racism, sexism, anti-lgbt+). I ask that you only address these topics in the RP if both people involved are 100% alright with the topic. If your partner is not, then I will ask that you skip ahead in the story and move on. I do not want to make anyone uncomfortable, and this RP will have LGBT+ characters.
sensitive topics pt 2 ; This RP will most likely address more mature themes. You are always asked to follow the forum rules, but I am 100% alright with the allowed cussing, innuendos, and violence. It fits well with the times, and can honestly make the writing feel less stiff. By all means, feel free to get a little dark.
to join ; simply fill this form out and wait for it to be approved by me! Name ; gender - age Appearance Personality History (Optional) Additional Information (Horses, Occupation/Shop, Sexuality, Relationships, Etc.) Photo Reference (Optional)
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Asexual
corgi >>
corɢιlιcιoυѕ deғιɴιтιoɴ мαĸe тнeм вoyѕ ɢo loco
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Post by corgi >> on Aug 10, 2019 18:13:17 GMT -5
Tribson was the greatest town north of the Milawuk River. With a population of 40,000 that was steadily growing, Tribson was the envy of the greater Midwest that drew a diverse influx of people from all over the country.
Founded in 1833 by William M. Tribson, the town began as a 10 person family simply trying to survive. When his father grew ill on the trail, William T decided to temporarily settle in the warmer valley between the peaks of the Alloway Mountains so that they would all recover. They built several quick cabins and hunted their food, turning the pelts into well crafted clothing to keep them warm. As it grew closer to the time that they would begin packing and moving on, an influx of travelers stopped by. The family that had stopped, the Pealers, were sickly and cold, unprepared for the harsh mountain weather. William traded them goods for the clothing that had been made, letting them stay until they were well enough to continue on their way.
Then it happened again. And again. As the people continued to show, they continued to create more and more clothing to accommodate them. When it finally reached summer, many families continued on their way towards Oregon. Two stayed behind. The Tribsons wanted to keep the business going, as they had received quite a bit of goods and money from the clothing. Even now when the weather was warm, people who passed by continued to buy them for the quality. However, their crops and herbs were running low. The Pealers made them a deal: The Pealers would grow crops for the them and would receive meat in return.
And so they settled permanently. Word began to spread of the town in the middle of nowhere The business attracted travelers, which then attracted settlers. Soon the town began to really grow.
When William died in 1858, his son Henry Tribson took over. Henry knew that running a growing town on his own would be stressful, and he wanted the people settling to feel welcome. In 1662 he erected the Towns Building, holding meetings every month to discuss the crops and vote on policies they felt should be implemented. These new tactics brought more crowds in as their land expanded. Soon after, Henry passed in 1868 without bearing any sons, leaving his daughter Grace in charge with her husband, Bill Macchio.
It was then that things began changing. When Grace passed unexpectedly shortly after her father, Bill Macchio was the sole leader of the town. His first move as acting chief was to dismantle the town meetings. When he started regulating the Pealer's, they threatened him back. This lead to a huge public feud between the two families before the Pealers decided to pack up and leave. Their final words to Bill Macchio was a curse, and then they disappeared for good.
The town was thriving with business, and plenty of people coming through were bringing crops to trade. Bill Macchio saw no reason to keep the fields going. Unlike the business in town, the fields withered and died.
Transformation happened rapidly. Buildings grew bigger and the town expanded as more people settled. The land still remained untouched, and those who settled took on careers of shopkeepers, bankers, law enforcement, etc. Now it's a trading empire, bustling with travelers and growing more prosperous every day. It remains constant under the watch of Frank Macchio, who took over as acting chief after the death of Bill Macchio in 1894.
Places of Interest
towns hall ; a beautiful two story building surrounded by beds of wildflowers. once held town meetings, but now is the home and office of acting chief, Frank Macchio. sits in the center of the town, looming over the brown box homes around it.
the fields ; sitting on the outside of town are the empty fields that used to hold the town's crops. now it is filled with miscellaneous trash and rodents.
the marshall's office [closed] ; a small building not far from the towns hall. it houses two desks and the criminal files of all who have been arrested in their county. it is not in use as the marshall was infected.
the jail house ; used to house up to 4 criminals. it stands directly beside the marshall's office.
the bank ; a large two story building next to towns hall. the bottom contains the tellers and a large vault door that remains locked at all times. the top contains several offices for the bank managers.
tribson trades ; home of the famous pelt clothing that founded the town. works as a general store, selling traded food staples and other accessories. managed by Johnny Wright, but owned by Frank Macchio.
saloon ; home to the best bar and hotel in Tribson. the bar and restaurant sit downstairs while the hotel rooms sit above them on the second floor. managed by Florence Hayes, but owned by Frank Macchio.
the homes ; half of the homes in the neighborhoods surrounding the main street towns are now empty, either from people turning tail and running, or from them... well... turning. some who turned still live out in the forest surrounding the town, waiting for a good time to find their next meal.
the river ; contains a wide variety of fish, including trout, minnow, pikes, killfish, and the rare salmon. the river sits outside of town on the east side, coming up from the south and looping over the town in the north.
the northern hunting grounds ; starts just outside the eastern side of town and continues up to the river that loops over the town on the north side. a forest containing mostly pine trees. you will often find deer, elk, rabbit, squirrels, mice, rats, shrews, and the rare wolves, bears, lynx, or the very rare bison.
the southern hunting grounds ; starts just outside of town and continues down to the mountain base that sits to the south. a forest containing non-conifer trees and boggy marshland. you will often find deer, rabbit, squirrel, chipmunk, frogs, salamanders, turtles, squirrels, mice, rats, shrews, opossums, raccoons, bats, and the rare coyote, lynx, or fox.
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Asexual
corgi >>
corɢιlιcιoυѕ deғιɴιтιoɴ мαĸe тнeм вoyѕ ɢo loco
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Post by corgi >> on Aug 10, 2019 18:13:28 GMT -5
Frank Macchio ; male - 30 Appearance: As Acting Chief of Tribson, he enjoys making his appearance pristine for the public eye. His jet black hair is always kept somewhat styled and his face is always clean shaven. Standing at 5'10", he carries himself with the confidence of a 6'6" man. His deep brown eyes always seem to sparkle with determination, and he has a charismatic smile that is bound to win anyone over. His clothing is always top of the line to help him stand out in a crowd. Very rarely will you see him in anything worse than a dress shirt and dress pants.
Personality: His mission was always to win over the crowds. He is extremely charismatic when he wants to be, and has a public speaking voice that can make quite a few people fall for him. When he speaks, he holds a confidence that can't be matched. When he says that he will do something, he sticks to it. He truly believes he is doing what is best when it comes to his decisions concerning the town. However, even he can doubt himself. Stressing is rare for him, but it quickly gets out of hand when it happens. He will keep his image up as much as possible, though that confidence will start to waiver in the eyes of the public if it grows too out of control. He will start to snap at others, his fuse growing shorter and shorter, and he will start to stumble over his words.
History: Frank never quite had the time to be a child. When he was younger, his father always had him working to learn the ropes of being the Acting Chief. By the time he was 14, he was making a majority of the decisions for the town while his father took the credit. Though it prepared him well for the job, he still holds some resentment for never being able to grow up normally. When he was 17, he proposed to his childhood sweetheart. However, she came down with Typhoid Fever soon after and was never able to recover, passing away shortly after. His father passed away a few months after her, and Frank never had the time to form another relationship. Recently, Marshal Samuel Darwin, the only person that he trusted with no hesitation, turned Risen after the first wave.
Additional Information: Is the town's Acting Chief (essentially Mayor). Owns an Appaloosa named Walker. Bisexual.
Anessa Lanla ; female - 22 Appearance Personality History (Optional) Additional Information (Horses, Occupation, Sexuality, Relationships, Etc.)
Jacob Trewalace ; male - 19 Appearance Personality History (Optional) Additional Information (Horses, Occupation, Sexuality, Relationships, Etc.)
Johnny Wright ; male - 26 Appearance Personality History (Optional) Additional Information (Horses, Occupation, Sexuality, Relationships, Etc.)
Florence Hayes ; female - 20 Appearance Personality History (Optional) Additional Information (Horses, Occupation, Sexuality, Relationships, Etc.)
Talbot ; male - 24
Appearance: There always seems to be amusement in his blue eyes. Despite being extremely attractive, he seems to blend into any crowd. It may be in part of his average height (somewhere between 5'8" and 5'11", though no one can ever really agree on what they think he is) and his plain brown hair. He never uses product, and yet his hair seems to stay perfectly swept to the side and off of his face. He has a trimmed beard and a scar just above his left eye. No one quite knows how he obtains his pricey clothing, but he is always wearing an expensive suit, complete with vest and tie.
Personality: He is... strange, to say the least. You will never notice him in a crowd until he wants you to. Something about him always seems amused, as if he is in on a joke that you will never be a part of. He rarely takes anything seriously, and seems to think it quite funny when someone gets worked up. He has a charming smile and carries himself as if he knows he's attractive, constantly flirting. He uses this to manipulate people when he needs to. Often, however, he simply stands in the back and listens, never really speaking unless spoken to.
History: ???
Additional Information: Not much is really known. No known job or family. Paloma Aguilar Castillo ; female - 20 Appearance: A relatively short young woman, her body shape triangular and curvaceous. Her skin is a warm brown color, bronzed lightly by the sun. Her eyes are a deep honey brown, gentle against the rich chocolate shade of her hair; her curly hair is styled in a bob, her fringe meeting the top of her eyebrows and kept loosely about her face. A splash of freckles sits across her nose and cheeks, slightly darker in color than her skin. Her lips are delicate and plump.
Personality: A lively girl with a hardworking spirit, genuine and honest in her dealings. She is polite and hospitable with her fellow townspeople, often offering to assist others in need out of consideration. In her daily life she is diligent, looking after her chores and errands with an unwavering sense of duty, and enjoys physical activities such as gardening and leisure fishing. As kindly as she is, Paloma is known to be pert when among those she considers friends, teasing them as a show of friendship. Aside from the occasional tongue-in-cheek remark, she is generally sweet-natured and cheery, finding small joys in her mundane life.
History: A skilled embroideress, helping her family financially by selling her handmade crafts. Her mother was the town's local seamstress, and her father a fisherman. Her siblings include two older brothers and an older sister, who had moved into different towns further away to live. She is talented in her art, known for the intricate and elegant designs she carefully embellished onto coats, stockings, dresses, and other similar clothing, along with blankets and rugs. As of the current time, she has lost both her parents to the first wave of Risen, and is struggling with the loss and trauma she has experienced because of it.
Additional Information: She is biromantic demisexual.
Joshua Calder ; male - 18
Appearance: A lean young man, broad-shouldered and tall, his physique toned and healthy. His skin is a light beige color, pale in comparison to his dark ebony hair, which is loosely styled back. His eyes are a light green, bright against the solemn expression he wears.
Personality: A benign boy who speaks better through ink rather than speech. Naturally introverted, Joshua can be mistaken as soft-spoken by just about anyone outside the chosen few he keeps as close companions - this, however, is only partially true. As taciturn as he is, he is much more thoughtful than he lets on, preferring to save words for his writing where they seem to flow out better. This leads to him having a stern, serious air about him, perhaps discouraging to those who wish to know him better. Because of his quiet qualities, he is known to be an excellent listener to whoever will have him, but seldom has consolation to give them.
History: An aspiring author, the only son of a journalist who was a part of the jumpstart popularity of newspapers. Joshua and his mother live apart from his father, who had to be in the city for his work, and supported themselves by being the local bakers of the town. He worked alongside his mother to make breads, cakes, and other simple treats to sell at her bakery. His main aspiration was writing poetry, hoping his stories to be published one day. As of the current time, he has witnessed his mother turned Risen during their first attack; although grief-stricken, he is actively trying to find a way to contact his father and alert him of the town's perils.
Additional Information: He is hetero-romantic asexual.
Shafer York ; male - 19 Appearance: Shafer is indigenous to the west coast of Canada. This means he boasts dark skin and stereotypical long, thick black hair. Unsettling dark brown eyes that make it look like he could burst into tears at any moment. Which he totally could. Plush lips, cute nose, chubby cheeks. 5’2” and mad about it. Androgynous.
Personality: Shafer is awful; childish, indecisive, pouty, manipulative, and gets just about anything he wants. Whether this is because he's always gotten what he wanted or because he's never gotten what he wanted is unclear, but the fact that he's got some serious mommy issues is obvious. He's had it rough and he knows that; often using his sob story to manipulate and toy with others.
Additional Information: Bisexual. Brother to Sasha York.
Sasha York ; male - 27
Appearance: Sasha is tall and sharp-looking in a way that one would only catch the resemblance between him and his smaller brother if they were looking for specifically that. His eyes are upturned and a dark enough shade of brown to just be considered black. He has a solid brow, which makes him either look like he's constantly scowling or in deep thought. Very much like a bird-of-prey. His jawline, nose, and lips are all very typical of an indigenous person. Strong and defined. He's just above six feet tall and built.
Personality: Sasha is very skilled at building mental walls between himself and others. His relationships are often defined by the careful amount of control that goes into them. His expressions are almost always impossible to read and his logic comes across calculated and cold. Even with his brother, whom he does display certain amounts of protective and caring instinct for, he's blunt and strong. Though there really isn't any other way to efficiently deal with Shafer's antics.
Additional Information: A very skilled archer. Heterosexual. Brother to Shafer York. Name ; gender - age Appearance Personality History (Optional) Additional Information (Horses, Occupation, Sexuality, Relationships, Etc.)
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Asexual
corgi >>
corɢιlιcιoυѕ deғιɴιтιoɴ мαĸe тнeм вoyѕ ɢo loco
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Post by corgi >> on Aug 11, 2019 15:42:35 GMT -5
hell is empty ; active The dead are rising. As their numbers continue to grow, the attacks becoming more and more frequent. No one had time to prepare, and now everyone must scramble to create and enforce borders before they are all eliminated. The Risen are surprisingly fast and strong, making them more than most people can handle. Not only this, but it takes a direct hit to the head in order stop them. Any other attack is only to buy you time.
learning to live ; active Tribson was once a proud farming town, but that has all but been lost in the span of a generation. Now the farmers have moved on, leaving nothing but merchants and bankers in its place. Now that the traffic into town has diminished, the town must learn how to fend for themselves in order to survive. If not, they will either be forced from their home into worse territory or face their demise.
struggling to survive ; not active A strange disease is spreading through Tribson, and no one knows what it is. Even the most skilled doctors are stumped by the intense headaches, burning skin, and bloody nose that the patients are facing. They do know one thing - they need a cure, and they need it fast. Doctors of the town ran out of most of their supplies when the Risen arrived, and now it'll take quick thinking to find a way to save their town from being wiped out entirely.
long live the king ; Amidst the growing threat from the Risen, Frank Macchio is beginning to crack under the pressure. People keep coming to him rightfully looking for his next action as acting chief, and now Frank is getting ready to turn tail himself. This makes some people question how good of an acting chief he really is, leading to a lot of speculation on who should actually be in charge. A group forms from this, setting out to challenge Frank and dethrone him, as they see him unfit to lead. Lead by: Johnny Wright
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Asexual
corgi >>
corɢιlιcιoυѕ deғιɴιтιoɴ мαĸe тнeм вoyѕ ɢo loco
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Post by corgi >> on Aug 11, 2019 15:43:45 GMT -5
c o r g i >> ; Frank Macchio, Anessa Lanla, Jacob Trewalace, Johnny Wright, Florence Hayes, Talbot
ˋ h o s h i e ˊ ; Paloma Aguilar Castillo, Joshua Calder
Ace ; Shafer York, Sasha York
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Asexual
corgi >>
corɢιlιcιoυѕ deғιɴιтιoɴ мαĸe тнeм вoyѕ ɢo loco
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Post by corgi >> on Aug 13, 2019 1:49:35 GMT -5
[ I'm really not finished, but it's open! ]
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Post by ˏˋ h o s h i e ˎˊ on Aug 13, 2019 21:31:52 GMT -5
heyo! this sounds so interesting, i would totally like to join!! i do love me some rootin tootin cowboy shootin western settings. i haven't come across an rp like this yet so i was very intrigued right away c: i can't write up my characters right now, but i'll use this as my save post for later if it's alright ^^ ~ all done ~Paloma Aguilar Castillo ; Female - 20 Appearance: A relatively short young woman, her body shape triangular and curvaceous. Her skin is a warm brown color, bronzed lightly by the sun. Her eyes are a deep honey brown, gentle against the rich chocolate shade of her hair; her curly hair is styled in a bob, her fringe meeting the top of her eyebrows and kept loosely about her face. A splash of freckles sits across her nose and cheeks, slightly darker in color than her skin. Her lips are delicate and plump. Personality: A lively girl with a hardworking spirit, genuine and honest in her dealings. She is polite and hospitable with her fellow townspeople, often offering to assist others in need out of consideration. In her daily life she is diligent, looking after her chores and errands with an unwavering sense of duty, and enjoys physical activities such as gardening and leisure fishing. As kindly as she is, Paloma is known to be pert when among those she considers friends, teasing them as a show of friendship. Aside from the occasional tongue-in-cheek remark, she is generally sweet-natured and cheery, finding small joys in her mundane life. History: A skilled embroideress, helping her family financially by selling her handmade crafts. Her mother was the town's local seamstress, and her father a fisherman. Her siblings include two older brothers and an older sister, who had moved into different towns further away to live. She is talented in her art, known for the intricate and elegant designs she carefully embellished onto coats, stockings, dresses, and other similar clothing, along with blankets and rugs. As of the current time, she has lost both her parents to the first wave of Risen, and is struggling with the loss and trauma she has experienced because of it. Additional Information: She is biromantic demisexual. Photo Reference:
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Joshua Calder ; Male - 18 Appearance: A lean young man, broad-shouldered and tall, his physique toned and healthy. His skin is a light beige color, pale in comparison to his dark ebony hair, which is loosely styled back. His eyes are a light green, bright against the solemn expression he wears. Personality: A benign boy who speaks better through ink rather than speech. Naturally introverted, Joshua can be mistaken as soft-spoken by just about anyone outside the chosen few he keeps as close companions - this, however, is only partially true. As taciturn as he is, he is much more thoughtful than he lets on, preferring to save words for his writing where they seem to flow out better. This leads to him having a stern, serious air about him, perhaps discouraging to those who wish to know him better. Because of his quiet qualities, he is known to be an excellent listener to whoever will have him, but seldom has consolation to give them. History: An aspiring author, the only son of a journalist who was a part of the jumpstart popularity of newspapers. Joshua and his mother live apart from his father, who had to be in the city for his work, and supported themselves by being the local bakers of the town. He worked alongside his mother to make breads, cakes, and other simple treats to sell at her bakery. His main aspiration was writing poetry, hoping his stories to be published one day. As of the current time, he has witnessed his mother turned Risen during their first attack; although grief-stricken, he is actively trying to find a way to contact his father and alert him of the town's perils. Additional Information: He is hetero-romantic asexual. Photo Reference:
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Asexual
corgi >>
corɢιlιcιoυѕ deғιɴιтιoɴ мαĸe тнeм вoyѕ ɢo loco
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Post by corgi >> on Aug 14, 2019 13:59:57 GMT -5
[ Yay! I'm glad someone was actually interested in my weird, rambling idea. My characters aren't finished either, but I'll write up some starter posts and then get back to them.]
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Bisexual
jaѕpυrr
нell ιѕ eмpтy. all тнe devιlѕ are нere. ☣
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Post by jaѕpυrr on Aug 14, 2019 15:13:12 GMT -5
Appearance: Standing at only five feet tall, Lorelai makes up for her height with the length of her obsidian colored hair. Stopping all the way past her waist, she usually always has it french braided. She is lithe, always been on the skinnier side, with her features being very pronounced. She has eyes that are hazel, but change to look more green during certain times of the day. Personality: History (Optional) Additional Information (Horses, Occupation/Shop, Sexuality, Relationships, Etc.) Photo Reference (Optional) WIP Read more: wcrpforums.com/thread/71710/devil-town-western-apocalypse-open#ixzz5wbiIra7k
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Asexual
corgi >>
corɢιlιcιoυѕ deғιɴιтιoɴ мαĸe тнeм вoyѕ ɢo loco
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Post by corgi >> on Aug 14, 2019 21:36:27 GMT -5
[ Welcome! I can't wait to see everyone's completed character. I'll be posting starters soon when I get them finished. ]
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Asexual
corgi >>
corɢιlιcιoυѕ deғιɴιтιoɴ мαĸe тнeм вoyѕ ɢo loco
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Post by corgi >> on Aug 14, 2019 23:12:24 GMT -5
Frank Macchio and Jacob Trewalace ;
"Marshal Darwin is dead."
Frank Macchio stood ridgely still. Between the moonless night and the lamp flickering unreliably in the corner of the room, the shadows accentuated the dark circles forming under his eyes. His hair, normally kept pristine for the public eye, was disheveled against his forehead. If anyone were to see him now, they would think that he had aged in a matter of hours. He always had a young face, but now the mayor looked just as old as he was. Despite the fact that he had since abandoned his jacket on the back of his chair and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, he was still glistening lightly with sweat.
After several moments had passed, he finally moved his hand away from his mouth and asked, "Which deputy is in charge right now?"
"They're both dead," Jacob answered, sounding hesistant. He shifted from foot to foot, clasping his own sweating hands together behind his back. "At least, we think they're dead. They were dragged away by those... things."
Frank's hand found its way to his mouth again, and he began biting at the nail once more. His other arm wrapped around his stomach as if he were tryng to keep himself intact. The pacing began, and the wooden floor of Towns Hall creaked under his weight as he moved from left to right and back again. His eyes were vacant and unmoving as he lost himself in his own head, rethinking the events of the night. He had seen a lot of things as his time being mayor, but nothing would ever come close to the horrors he witnessed only a few hours ago. Those things had come out of the woods, rotting and ready to devour anything in their path. They were mutants.
Yet his father was one. He would never be able to flush the sight from his mind. Thinking about it was causing his stomach to turn.
They weren't just mutants or demons. They were the walking dead.
The Risen.
Frank turned around, his eyes catching Jacob's. He stopped once again, simply staring. And staring. And staring. Until finally he moved his hand down to gesture aggressively towards the door. "Are you waiting for the sun? Get out of here."
Perhaps it had been a bit too harsh, but it was effective. Jacob turned and left without another word. Frank sighed, moving towards the window to get some fresh air. It was only then that he let himself slump down fully, leaning against the window sill and burying his head in his hands. He shook for a moment, a sob threatening to escape, and then stood upright again. He couldn't allow himself to do this right now. He knew the people would be waiting for him to say something.
If only he could think of the right thing to say.
Johnny, Florence, and Talbot ;
The saloon was empty now. Most people were choosing to stay at home to baricade their doors in case of another attack. A smart choice given the circumstances, but some were too exhausted to think rationally.
Some had no family to protect. This is why Johnny Wright sat at the bar, downing another shot quickly. He motioned towards Florence, who dropped the rag and moved towards him, refilling his glass. A simple nod to let her know he was thankful, and then he drank again. He motioned towards Florence. All she could do was purse her lips at him.
"Sorry Johnny," Florence said, sounding anything but. "I know you've had a long night. We all have. I'm going to have to cut you off though."
"I've ony had a few," Johnny protested, lifting his glass as if that would tempt her to listen to him. She shook her head in return.
"I know. That's why I'm stopping you. The last thing you need right now is to be out of your mind."
Johnny sighed, flipping the glass over and sliding it further down the bar. His muscles were beginning to ache and he had a headache growing just behind his eyes. The night had been horrendous, and he had been towards the front of the crowd with the marshal to fend off the beasts from hell. He had been there when it grabbed the marshal, sinking its yellowed teeth into his shoulder. Johnny had reached forward, missing the marshal's hand by an inch. He reached forward once more, and -
That was exactly why he hadn't wanted to go home. He would see them every time he closed his eyes, and he didn't think he would be able to face that at the moment.
Anger swelled inside of him. At least he had been out in the action, trying to protect the town. Where had the mayor been during all of this? He couldn't recall ever seeing Frank trying to protect his people. That didn't surprise him. He couldn't remember the last time Frank did anything for them.
By the time he looked back up, Florence was gone. He turned quickly, wondering if perhaps he had spaced out entirely and should have gone home by now, but relaxed when he saw her across the room, wiping down a table and fixing the chairs. He turned back, catching the eye of a man on the other side of the bar. The man gave him a quick nod, turning back to his notebook a moment later. The man didn't have a drink in fron of him, and Johnny wasn't sure he could recall seeing him before. Of course it was a busy town, and people pass through all the time.
Johnny was sure that was bound to change, however. Plenty of people were already packing up to leave. When word gets around of a town infested with demons and night-crawlers, the business would slow.
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Post by ˏˋ h o s h i e ˎˊ on Aug 15, 2019 1:33:56 GMT -5
i'm all done with my forms! feel free to let me know if there's any other info needed, i'll be happy to correct them if necessary c:
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Post by Ace on Aug 15, 2019 2:34:31 GMT -5
hello : ) my name's ace and this is my first time showing interest in an rp in like,,,, months?? anyway i'm super out of practice but this looks super cool if y'all are willing to be a lil patient with me, i'd love to join < 3)
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Post by Ace on Aug 15, 2019 3:19:52 GMT -5
Shafer York ; male - 19 Shafer is indigenous to the west coast of Canada. This means he boasts dark skin and stereotypical long, thick black hair. Unsettling dark brown eyes that make it look like he could burst into tears at any moment. Which he totally could. Plush lips, cute nose, chubby cheeks. 5’2” and mad about it. Androgynous. Shafer is awful; childish, indecisive, pouty, manipulative, and gets just about anything he wants. Whether this is because he's always gotten what he wanted or because he's never gotten what he wanted is unclear, but the fact that he's got some serious mommy issues is obvious. He's had it rough and he knows that; often using his sob story to manipulate and toy with others. Bisexual. Brother to Sasha York. Sasha York ; male - 27 Sasha is tall and sharp-looking in a way that one would only catch the resemblance between him and his smaller brother if they were looking for specifically that. His eyes are upturned and a dark enough shade of brown to just be considered black. He has a solid brow, which makes him either look like he's constantly scowling or in deep thought. Very much like a bird-of-prey. His jawline, nose, and lips are all very typical of an indigenous person. Strong and defined. He's just above six feet tall and built. Sasha is very skilled at building mental walls between himself and others. His relationships are often defined by the careful amount of control that goes into them. His expressions are almost always impossible to read and his logic comes across calculated and cold. Even with his brother, whom he does display certain amounts of protective and caring instinct for, he's blunt and strong. Though there really isn't any other way to efficiently deal with Shafer's antics. A very skilled archer. Heterosexual. Brother to Shafer York.
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Asexual
corgi >>
corɢιlιcιoυѕ deғιɴιтιoɴ мαĸe тнeм вoyѕ ɢo loco
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Post by corgi >> on Aug 15, 2019 23:34:54 GMT -5
[ More people! Welcome ˏˋ h o s h i e ˎˊ and Ace ! You're both good to go. I'll add your characters, and actually work on mine now. ]
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Post by Ace on Aug 16, 2019 0:11:58 GMT -5
yay !! i'm down to start whenever ))
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Post by ˏˋ h o s h i e ˎˊ on Aug 16, 2019 0:19:47 GMT -5
coolio, thanks so much! i'm going to be rather busy this weekend, but i will definitely try to get some starters up soon!
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Asexual
corgi >>
corɢιlιcιoυѕ deғιɴιтιoɴ мαĸe тнeм вoyѕ ɢo loco
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Post by corgi >> on Aug 16, 2019 0:37:23 GMT -5
[ Awesome! You can jump in wherever. I posted a little bit further up, but if you have an idea you want to do, go for it and I'll throw a character at you. ]
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Post by Ace on Aug 16, 2019 2:30:24 GMT -5
Shafer & Sasha York -- saloon ;; with johnny, florence, and talbot corgi >>
There was nothing redeeming about this godforsaken town. Nothing about its looks, atmosphere, or community that allowed Shafer to feel any sort of way besides scared and tense. He and his brother had only intended to spend the day, loading up on supplies and social interaction before ideally skipping the pricey hotel room and making camp on the outskirts of the town. But then those… Things…
A shudder raced down Shafer’s spine and made him swallow harshly as he sunk deeper into the uncomfortable wooden chair he was using to look out onto the street. There was something about the roads here that seemed to eat the light. It was truly unsettling and yet he was incapable of pulling his eyes away to focus on something more positive. The burning expectation to see something unnatural shambling down the street was anxiety-inducing and outright overwhelming whenever he dared look away.
“The streets here eat the light, brother,” he mumbled out in his native tongue, eyes still fixated on the flickering light painting the dirt below.
“Creator help me… Be quiet, squee’chee,” Sasha’s muffled voice drifted from where he was laid out on the bed, face shoved into the pillow. There was nothing to do for now but wait. Though he was tempted to take his little brother and make a run for it, as it seemed like the town was all-in-all doomed, the situation was too foreign. If it had been closer to home, he probably would have. However, he was too inexperienced with these white communities and if they attracted this kind of bad luck, he didn’t want to play with any unknowns. So, they would wait it out. Even if his little brother took it upon himself to make unprompted, eerie statements every five minutes until Sasha lost it. “Okay, you’re driving me insane. Let’s go get you something to eat.”
“Not hungry.”
“You only get this annoying when you’re hungry. And I need a drink anyway.”
“Ma said you shouldn’t take the firewater when you’re around white people.”
“I can handle myself just fine.”
Shafer finally took his eyes off the road to give a skeptical glare, just as Sasha pulled the pillow off his face and tossed it onto the foot of the bed. The brothers locked eyes and waited for Shafer to either challenge or give in. In the end, exhaustion and stress won out as Shafer sighed heavily and pulled himself to his feet. “Fine. Do what you want. Is it even safe down there?”
“As long as we can run faster than at least one other person, yes. It’s safe.” That pulled a smile from his little brother at least. Sasha reached up to pat the boy on the head. -- By the time they got down to the bar, there were only three people left scattered throughout the space. Shafer instinctively drew close to his brother and kept his head low; in stark contrast to Sasha, who walked up to the bar with a grim confidence that was designed to play on the ‘stoic savage’ stereotype each person here surely had in their heads.
“Just give me something strong,” Sasha rumbled, internally cringing at the way his tongue struggled around the English. Such an ugly language.
Hearing his brother’s voice seemed to relax Shafer enough to wander a bit. He opted to sit beside the less angsty of the two options at the bar; a handsome man with a notebook. “Hello.”
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Post by dietmountaindew on Aug 17, 2019 16:59:07 GMT -5
{I am 100% joining this.}
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Post by ˏˋ h o s h i e ˎˊ on Aug 17, 2019 21:58:01 GMT -5
; hello!! i'm so sorry for not being on lately, i've been very busy this weekend ;w; i'll have joshua's starter up a little later, just wanted to have paloma's done as soon as it was finished! feel free to reply, anyone c:
She was known for her hands.
Steady, delicately small, never marked by cuts or bandaged for pricks. It hadn't always been this way - she learned how to avoid these little dangers quickly in life, simply by tapping the tip of a needle with her finger and finding it a discomfort to be stung by it's point. Her mother told her never to leave the needles laying around, lest her father step on one and hurt himself, then have to miss one day of work, then another, and yet one after that, until eventually they would be kicked out of their home for not paying their dues and become homeless like her Tiò Elias.
He isn't homeless, she had told her mother once, He's just a traveler wanting to explore the world without anything holding him back. He told me.
He's homeless, mìja. Everything he owns fits in a bag. Your tìo is just a fool for not admitting it. Mother huffed then shooed her away, reaffirming that she'd better look after those needles or else.
How Paloma wished to hear her mother's reprimanding one more time.
The needle she was holding had fell to the floor, and for the first time in her life Paloma had dropped it due to the trembling of her hands. She was working on the same project she had spent days on - a cloth napkin embellished with intricate floral vines - one that typically only took a day or two to complete. There was a certain pain that struck her now that she even glanced at it, much more if she took it into her lap and held it, hands trying hard to embrace it tenderly as she usually did with her works in progress.
It was the very same design she was working on the day she waited near the Southern border of town for her parents return from their hunting trip, and the very same one she had dropped when she ran from them, sputtering with the screams caught in her throat and the bile that burned her tongue.
It wasn't the fact that they were ... undead people, something rarely heard of in myths or dreams, not even in storybooks. It wasn't how their jaws hung unhinged from their face, or the coal blackness of their eyes as they stared at her - it wasn't even their uncontrolled, horrible screeching as they barreled towards her that frightened her this much. It was the fact that she had recognized them, an innate feeling upon laying eyes on them, to see the faces of her parents no matter how demonic or sickening they had become. She had seen them, looked right into their unseeing eyes, and called them her loved ones even if they couldn't hear her.
Her eyes scoured through the cloth, looking over the same vines she had re-sewed for the dozenth time, then wandered down to her dropped needle, the fabric still attached to the needle's eye. A light breeze blew through the strands of her hair, and suddenly she was aware that she sat on the front porch of her home, her seat the favorite cedar tree chair of her father who had received it as a gift from his favorite nephew, her cousin Roberto. Sighing, she set her embroidery hoop down onto the wooden planks of the porch, her half-hearted effort clearly shown in the unusually wonky print of the vines. Instead she leaned back in her seat, positioning her elbow on the armrest of the chair and her chin in the palm of her hand.
Paloma watched as a few townspeople, the bravest ones who decided to be outside fearlessly, wandered up and down the street, almost aimlessly she thought. A few she noticed grouped in front of the Town's Hall, perhaps wanting to know how Mr. Macchio would comfort them this time. That is, if he could try. How would you ever comfort a frightful town full of sorrow and trauma? Those who've seen their families turn into monsters before their very eyes, or witness them attacking their neighbors in a mindless frenzy?
Paloma kept her attention on this group, who seemed restless as they awaited for some sort of news. A teensy part of her wanted to wait along with them, wanted to hear anything about anything that was occuring, but felt as if she had no strength to move from her spot. So she watched the doors to the Hall, willing it to open and help keep her mind off the needle that had fell into the dirt underneath the stairs of her home.
There was no one to step on it now.
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