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Post by Deleted on Nov 2, 2013 3:08:11 GMT
 After his lacking introduction, Rosalie had stepped back and tried to persuade his body to disappear in on itself. He slowly wanted to have nothing to do with this ragtag group of prettied plastic dolls with beating hearts. He, of course, included himself. His attempts to pull a vanishing act were thwarted by the swath wrapped around him that seemed to float whenever he moved, defying gravity in the laziest of ways. As the time for name-sharing and pleasantries passed—Rosalie had respectfully tuned out, though he seemed to perk up in interest at the good-looking vampire—the group seemed to be at a worse place than they were when they first met. Rosalie was feeling particularly edgy about the street-walking blonde, and found himself wrinkling his nose at the memory of her introduction. He made a note to himself, reminding him to stay as far away from her as possible. It was a shame that the vampire’s loyalties seemed trot behind her. The mysterious man that Rosalie had christened as their host smiled a lizard smile. Suddenly, he looked like the type of man that women would hide their purses and babies from. Rosalie shuddered delicately, and looked away. The doors behind the mysterious man opened, and they were ushered in by the man, who gestured to a lavish-looking table set with dim candles and expensive-looking champagne. It looked like a morbid Halloween party. Which it was. The two ladies had taken their seats. Rosalie noticed that the tramp had taken the seat to the far right, and moved to inhabit the seat that strayed to the farthest left. Now, he thought with satisfaction, he wouldn’t have to deal with her. Rosalie was tempted to lean over the draped table and circle the rim of the champagne glass with his finger, or at least flick it and listen to the light ring. But he, determined to behave himself, wrested his hands into his lap and waited. NEVADA RAINES |
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Post by NEVADA RAINES on Nov 11, 2013 18:46:02 GMT
The heavy ornate doors moved shut without a person in sight. Nevada stared at them for a few moments before registering that Angel was no longer at his side. He had made his way over to sit at the table, far from the host. Nevada took the seat next to him, closest to the host. He was intrigued by the man who was their host; however, sitting next to Angel posed some risks. The blonde was quick to grab the champagne glass, which posed badly for him.
It may have been a wiser choice to sit across from his companion. A drunken Angel was an embarrassing one prone to putting his hands down Nevada’s pants for seemingly no reasons except to fluster him. Of course, there was little a table could do to stop the blonde from doing anything he wanted to do. The man stole a glance towards the mysterious host with questions bubbling in his mind. Who was he? How had he opened and closed the doors without touching them?
| [attr="class","applss"] You swallow me I'm just a pill on your tongue |
LAIKA OF GS! [newclass=.applss]width:200px; height:100%; margin-left:10px;background: #f2f2f2; color:#939393; text-align: center; font-family: courier new; text-transform:uppercase; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 5px; position: relative; z-index: 1; padding: 10px; opacity: 1; -webkit-transition: all .7s ease-in-out;[/newclass][newclass=.beprps a]color:#939393; text-align: center; font-family: courier new; text-transform:uppercase; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 5px;[/newclass] |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 18, 2013 23:19:57 GMT
A chill in the air that burned through your bones, a shared instant of dying candles, utter silence in utter darkness, then— a clap of thunder. Like a jammed bolt in clockwork, the host froze in his movements, when the candle closest to him relit, when Abyss strolled in, door creaked open just large enough for him to slide through. His figure was poorly lit, features barely made out, but that didn't matter. Not really. With a sudden gesture, he rose to disappear. Only to hover above the center of the dining table. With an almighty clap that seemed to echo through the ears of the mortals, thunder pierced through the air and tore a hole through the table. His ghostly entity folded his arms, eyes dead straight. "Noah's arc, went the animals two by two." His voice boomed, almost concealing the stirring of masses from somewhere underneath the table. "Match your forks, make a key. For the solitary, there is no redemption."At that, an arm of rotting flesh reached through the hole, and from that frozen moment, those on the hinges of death and mortality forced themselves through, digging and scratching. Three doors stood at the far left of the room, each with a strange lock attached. Kirk is left to sit on the left, closest to the host. The host doesn't seem to be moving anytime soon. Having both rolled 4, Kirk and Juniper must make their way through a door. Having both rolled a 5, Angel and Joseph must make it through another door. Nev, having rolled a 1, has his fortunes stacked against him. Once you get through a door, separate threads will be made for each group. @kirk @juniper NEVADA RAINES ANGEL ALESSI @josephmale |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 19, 2013 21:18:06 GMT
| BANG BANG, WE'RE BEAUTIFUL AND DIRTY RICH | All were seated, absolutely fantastic! Now they could actually get down to having the dinner party instead of just mingling.
Only it didn't exactly happen like that. Why did everything have to go so fucking dark, the woman wondered. Oh no this was surely too spooky for her ... not.
The moment the flying man showed up, Juniper couldn't exactly say she was surprised by that. After all she had been suspended in the air before by wires and the like ... though if that were the case he had spent a lot of money because, well, the wires were barely visable. The crack in the middle of the table however caused her to push the seat out, trying to get away if anything else happened.
"Someone's taking the whole scaring thing a little too seriously" the idol muttered under her breath to nobody inparticular, keeping her eyes focused on the new guest. What the hell was he talking about? Noah's arc. In fact she was so caught up in the statement that she was all the more scared by the random arms bursting out of the table, a shrill scream echoing around the room.
"What the hell!?" Juniper yelled, quickly snatching the fork off the table before pulling off her mask and placing it on the chair she had suddenly rose from in her shock. A quick glance around revealed who she was paired up with and a glare was shot at him. "Oi, Captain Kirk. Let's get to mooving shall we?" Juniper ordered, going over to find a door. She wasn't staying with the walking dead, thank you very much.
ANGEL ALESSI
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Post by ANGEL ALESSI on Nov 21, 2013 21:48:13 GMT
this place about to blow [attr="class","khaleesilaika"]  He had gotten in one or two eager sips of when the candles sputtered, when there was a thunderclap's rumble burrowing into his chest. Jumping in his seat, he sloshed his drink over himself and barely noticed. Instead there was a sinking feeling, a drop in his stomach as he watched another figure stride in, one that hardly seemed the presence of a polite guest. His voice sounded almost like the thunderclaps that accompanied it, heavy in the thick silence that had suddenly enveloped the room.
Angel was gaping up in awe at the man, not quite grasping the nonsense he was spouting, when another boom of thunder cracked a hole in the table.
"Oh, fuck!" There was the shattering of glass as scrambled backwards with a start.
He noticed the woman picking up her fork, and that was the only thing that prompted him to do the same despite the rotting, groping hands, clawing at the dimly lit table, knocking over a few more things before he had his fork in one hand. Being paired up, his mind immediately flew to Nevada, reaching over to grip the sleeve of his shirt in a white knuckled grip, Angel stumbling over his own feet as he tried to pull him backwards.
@josephmale [newclass=.khaleesilaika]border:2px solid #0c0c0c; background:#f7f4f5;padding:10px;width:320px;font:11px raavi;line-height:13px;text-align:left;[/newclass][newclass=.khaleesilaika a]font: 10px raavi; line-height: 13px;[/newclass][newclass=.khaleesilaika a:hover]font: 10px raavi; line-height: 13px;[/newclass] |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 25, 2013 23:47:30 GMT
With a crack and a boom, another man strolled into the room with importance, as though carrying the fate of the world on his shoulders. Rosalie didn’t see much of him, but it didn’t matter—he knew the gait of an all-encompassing swank when he laid eyes on one. He certainly had Rosalie’s begrudging attention when he appeared above the table, flamboyant over their heads. The lightning strike that bore a hole through the table—only adding insult to injury now—evoked a shrill scream from the blue-haired princess, cracking like a one-winged dove. And then when the decaying hands scraped from the hole, Rosalie had already taken a fork and was attempting to fend them off with it with pitiable stabs and colourful curses. “Ugh!” He yanked the fork out of a groping arm, and, with another half-sneer-half-sob expression, he backed away from the frenzy, nearly tripping over himself in his stupor. He clutched the fork to his chest—his only mode of self-defense, and ran for a door to the left, his stiletto clicks barely heard over the thudding of his heart against his ribcage. Later, it might’ve occurred to him that it would’ve been a little bit smarter to head back the way he’d come, but for now he was frantically curling his fingers around the doorknobs and fumbling with them in vain, the racket a death-induced symphony to his ears. It wasn’t opening. NEVADA RAINES |
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Post by NEVADA RAINES on Nov 29, 2013 18:35:10 GMT
Unprepared for the events that took place in the next few minutes, Nevada stared dumbly at the man who appeared over the table. The loud cracks of thunderclaps left his ears ringing and incapable of hearing whatever nonsense he was spouting. Nonetheless, he had a feeling it didn’t bode well for anyone in the room. He had encountered the supernatural once before and this whole ordeal felt all too familiar. Nevada had difficulty that it was really happening—again.
In the moments he was frozen in shock, he had been caught by the wrist by a decaying hand. He stared at it as if it were a surreal product of a dream. Whatever undead abomination had grabbed him never got the chance to pull him under as Nevada was torn from its grip by his blond haired companion. He lurched backwards under Angel’s pull, taking the hand with him. He realized he was holding a fork, which he had been in the process of adjusting on the table before things went sour.
A glance around the room revealed that everyone else had grabbed their fork too, although probably with more intent than him. He tore the dismembered hand from his wrist and took Angel’s hand in his. He wanted to get out of this mess and he wasn’t going to leave without Angel. He rushed towards the nearest door. He wasn’t thinking, wasn’t considering trying to open the door they’d entered from. The door he reached wasn’t opening, however. “It is locked. How do we escape?”
| [attr="class","applss"] You swallow me I'm just a pill on your tongue |
LAIKA OF GS! [newclass=.applss]width:200px; height:100%; margin-left:10px;background: #f2f2f2; color:#939393; text-align: center; font-family: courier new; text-transform:uppercase; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 5px; position: relative; z-index: 1; padding: 10px; opacity: 1; -webkit-transition: all .7s ease-in-out;[/newclass][newclass=.beprps a]color:#939393; text-align: center; font-family: courier new; text-transform:uppercase; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 5px;[/newclass] |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 5, 2013 2:54:32 GMT
They - and by they, he meant all of them, quite literally - scurried to their seats quicker than he would have anticipated, claiming the spots as far away from the host as possible, not that it was a surprise. Kirk hesitated, considered the possibility of leaving, then heaved a sigh, and resigned himself to the fact that this was going to be a long night, and that only he was to blame for landing himself in this situation. Plunking himself down - sloppy, without much finesse - he eyed the table, briefly, then stole a gaze at the host and the guests. Frills was clutching at the champagne glasses and taking sips before the party even started, but Kirk made it a point not to let his eyes linger too long on his own.
Nobody spoke, and the silence was...uncomfortable, for a grand total of two seconds. Then, the lights went out, and thunder clapped in the midst of what was clear weather just moments ago. Another man strolled in - an unwelcome stranger, if the look of the host was anything to go by - and another sound tore through Kirk's head like nails on a chalkboard: shaking, he rubbed at his temples with a finger, grinding curses through his thinly pressed lips. The man's mouth was moving, but Kirk couldn't hear through all the racket, and the tablecloth blurred slightly in front of his eyes, suddenly, distorting the hole through the center with it. There were things moving, through that hole, blurs that weren't there before. And just when his headache was abating, too. Damn.
Narrowing his eyes against the pain, he pushed himself to his feet, fingers bunching the tablecloth together and dragging a fork along with him. A brief glance around the room gathered that it was the only common denominator between the five of them, and if they knew something that he didn't, it was best to preserve this thin, connecting string, whatever it was. "Ladies first." He quipped without thinking, lip twisting up into a smirk as he climbed over the chair to get to Mask girl(would it be fair to keep calling her that, now that she'd discarded her signature article of recognition?), knocking a few plates down in the process.
"Well, sailor?" There was a door in front of them, and he didn't understand the implications, as opposed to Mask girl (and it was funny, he thought with a chuckle, because she was the one calling him 'captain', not the other way around). "Are we abandoning ship?" With that, his grip on the fork tightened, just slightly, and it was unnerving to not know why he did it, but know he had to at the same time. | |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 8, 2013 1:44:54 GMT
 Abyss' presence melted when his neck cranked in the most impossible position.
It seemed to almost dislodge from his neck; impossible, by human standards. But the Host was stretching. His head sat facing his chest for a good amount of seconds before, in the panic of undead scrambling out of a hole in the middle of the table, he stretched his head around with a smile that was uncannily wide. His chair was pushed backwards when he stood up, motionless, ignoring the sudden motion the lucky five found themselves in.
The undead had a taste for fresh, breathing, flesh. They were slow, but they scurried like ants, now on the table and threatening to overflow. They scratched at air as the Host drummed his long, thin, bony fingers on the wooden table, louder and louder like a symphony for a victory.
Now most of the undead were festering on the floor. Like inbred, newborn babies, most slopped onto the ground, unable to move, but some managed to edge closer and closer to the far side of the left, closer and closer to the doors.
Uncannily, the Host suddenly appeared behind Nevada's figure, and grabbed his neck, pushing him backwards, and whispered into his ear.
"You're not meant to be with that one," He spluttered. "You're not allowed to be the chased, you're it."
They collapsed onto decaying bodies, the Hosts hands dancing over Nevada's mouth, before taking a bite into his neck.
Poor Nevada. He's now in a trance, calm, slow, and a philosophical zombie. The rolls of this turn are as follows: Kirk, 5, Juniper, 1, Nevada, 2, Angel, 5, Joseph, 3. Please reflect your posts accordingly. The smaller your number, the more grim your situation is! Although this early in the game, Abyss doesn't want anyone dying. Just yet.
Kirk and Juniper have managed to open a door with their combined presence. You may move on.
DOOR 1 IS NOW OPEN.
Nevada is the Host's little prisoner. His low roll has lead to him getting a crippling disadvantage. Boo hoo. Sorry to be you.
@kirk @juniper NEVADA RAINES ANGEL ALESSI @josephmale BEFORE ABYSS FORGETS! In order to get the post speed up, to make sure Abyss has everyone playing, and add a little unpredictability to the game, Abyss proposes a little something for his little game participants. Basically, if you take longer than 3 DAYS to post, your next roll immediately gets a -1. HOWEVER, if you post within a day of your turn of post, you will gain +1 to your next roll. HOW GREAT IS THAT? FANTASTIC. WE HOPE YOU WILL SURVIVE THY HALLOWED EVENING. FAREWELL. |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2013 17:38:45 GMT
| BANG BANG, WE'RE BEAUTIFUL AND DIRTY RICH | There was something going on over the other side of the room but she didn't care. She just wanted to grab the other guy and work on getting out of there. Screw the rest of them, whatever was happening was their problem now, she didn't have to stand around and play hero when it wasn't in her interests.
"I'd make a remark on your politness however, the introduction to the undead means I'm gonna leave small talk for later" Juniper replied, making sure he'd got over the table fine, she needed him to get out after all. Still, they weren't out the woods yet, they still needed to get out.
The zombie thing wasn't going to help either, the idol hadn't exactly been expecting to make any form of impact with the floor on the escape route. Still there was a sharp stinging pain in her ankle, something was digging into her flesh and she was pretty sure her arm was scraped from the fall.
"Get off me!" the purple haired woman shrieked, smacking the side of the creature's head with the heel of her free foot until she managed to get it to let go, quickly scrambling away from the creature before it could get any closer, getting to her feet and limping over to the door. If she'd known it was going to turn into a battlefield she would have worn trainers not bloody heels. At least with whatever ankle injury she had, she might be able to walk a little quicker.
"It's a Star Tr- Yes. Yes we are, so let's get going!" Juniper replied, leaning on the door frame, waiting for Kirk to catch up ... maybe she could get him to carry her. It wasn't like she was running anywhere. "Come on!" she doubted they were any safer in the room but it probably beat dying in here.
ANGEL ALESSI
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Post by ANGEL ALESSI on Dec 10, 2013 18:42:13 GMT
this place about to blow [attr="class","khaleesilaika"] What unfurled next was chaos – and not the kind Angel enjoyed. There was the sound of splattering viscera, and the general sounds of people in an intense, mutual panic. It was all background noise to Angel, who was leading Nevada to the doors when he felt a pull back.
Looking back over his shoulder, Angel saw the host whispering into Nevada's ear, grabbing at him, pulling him right from Angel's grip. He froze, struggling to understand what was happening.
The feel of something warm, sticky and putrid, lapping at the toes of his costume Mary Janes was what spurred him to finally act. He didn't reach for Nevada again, turning on his heel without a second though to slop through the wet warmth spreading beneath him on the floor, making for the doors.
The only other guest left was the bratty princess of a girl, desperately rattling doorknobs. Angel's shoes were soaked, but he didn't dare look down to see what they were stained with. He elbowed at Rosalie, caring less about anybody but himself and how he was going to make it out, trying the door himself, a string of curses leaving his lips like a prayer.
@josephmale [newclass=.khaleesilaika]border:2px solid #0c0c0c; background:#f7f4f5;padding:10px;width:320px;font:11px raavi;line-height:13px;text-align:left;[/newclass][newclass=.khaleesilaika a]font: 10px raavi; line-height: 13px;[/newclass][newclass=.khaleesilaika a:hover]font: 10px raavi; line-height: 13px;[/newclass] |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 14, 2013 4:16:04 GMT
In the midst of the chaos, Rosalie was still plagued by the urge to stab the streetwalker with a fork. “Hey!” The protest came out rather lackluster, with his throat as dry as the Sahara Desert. It didn’t help that he was beginning to grate it raw with mindless screams every time he touched something. He whipped his head around as two of the party guests disappeared into a door, and tried to shove the streetwalker out of the way so that he could try to yank the door open. In an act of desperation, he began to hit the door with his fork, eyes shiny with the threat of tears and a feral kind of panic. “Let—me—in! No, nonononono.” The zombies were gaining, and he was still trapped on the other side of the door. God—damn—stupid—freaking—suspicious—ass—parties—why—do—I—do—this—to—myself?! he screamed internally, clearly on the verge of something a little less than sane. NEVADA RAINES |
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Post by NEVADA RAINES on Dec 14, 2013 4:40:28 GMT
They were nearly at the door. It wasn’t the right door, not the one that led outside and away from the horrors breaking out inside, but it was close enough. But Nevada wouldn’t be permitted to leave. He pulled away from the blonde by their less-than-charming host. He struggled against the arms holding him back, wide eyes staring at Angel as he watched the blonde glance back at him and keep going. Then he felt pressure building on his neck before teeth punctured his skin.
Everything went black. His eyes lost their luster as his consciousness was shoved aside. Nevada became a mindless puppet for the mysterious host’s little game. He moved slow and lurching with the rest of the undead. Though his heart still pumped life through his body, he was practically another zombie now. His free will was squashed beneath some kind of trance or spell.
| [attr="class","applss"] [attr="class","beprps"]@kirk You swallow me I'm just a pill on your tongue |
LAIKA OF GS! [newclass=.applss]width:200px; height:100%; margin-left:10px;background: #f2f2f2; color:#939393; text-align: center; font-family: courier new; text-transform:uppercase; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 5px; position: relative; z-index: 1; padding: 10px; opacity: 1; -webkit-transition: all .7s ease-in-out;[/newclass][newclass=.beprps a]color:#939393; text-align: center; font-family: courier new; text-transform:uppercase; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 5px;[/newclass] |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 17, 2013 2:08:18 GMT
The number of zombies were increasing to drastic proportions - they, as they should, had picked zoned in on the targets of their targets, and they were advancing on the doors with a sort of vigor that Kirk thought otherwise impossible. Rotting, resting on the borderline of death. "Afraid being nice ain't in the job description." Kirk decided that he didn't want to have small talk at that particular moment, either. Not with five big, neon signs flashing above their heads like some signal beacon.
Some of the plates he'd knocked over hit the advancing creatures on their half-dead heads, but it didn't seem to have a significant effect - if any - and they kept advancing steadily, dozens of one-track minds. One of them snatched at him and he jumped away hurriedly, eyes wide as a hanging nail snagged on the fabric of his dress pants and promptly tore off, the crass material that it was. Satisfied, smug(and perhaps more relieved than he'd like to have admitted) he made his way over to the door with a new set pace, kicking and stomping and weaving like he would with drunkards at the bar shows.
The door - doors - were shifty, and mask girl, in her current state, didn't look particularly appealing to stick by, nor a very valuable asset (more of an anchor, really, but there was no way he was saying that to her face). Still, anything beat the current situation of zombie invasions and screaming prima donnas (and where had dracula gone?). "Yeah, yeah. Keep yer pants on." Grumbling, muttering and fighting the onset of a headache, he pushed through the door and shut it tightly, fearing for the worst. | just a little tag here in case there was going to be an end mod post?? |
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Post by ANGEL ALESSI on Dec 20, 2013 0:43:52 GMT
this place about to blow [attr="class","khaleesilaika"] Angel was hardly aware of the screams of the girl beside him – he could feel a dampness still seeping into his shoes, and a panic seeping into his fingertips, making them stiff and clumsy. He might have pulled a bobby pin from his hair and picked the lock if he wasn't shaking so hard.
But the door was open. The knob suddenly twisted and the door fell forward with his weight. Angel lurched past the threshold. He whirled around after a moment to slam the door shut, not caring who had or hadn't followed him.
@josephmale [newclass=.khaleesilaika]border:2px solid #0c0c0c; background:#f7f4f5;padding:10px;width:320px;font:11px raavi;line-height:13px;text-align:left;[/newclass][newclass=.khaleesilaika a]font: 10px raavi; line-height: 13px;[/newclass][newclass=.khaleesilaika a:hover]font: 10px raavi; line-height: 13px;[/newclass] |
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