*tap* *tap* *tap*
What's that? :smallconfused: Some sort of RP character? Better investigate!
Murska
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*tap* *tap* *tap*
What's that? :smallconfused: Some sort of RP character? Better investigate!
Murska
Fleeing Coward
Well, got to try save myself but I don't want to lynch Jontom becaue he gets night killed early enoug and Murska because of a certian conversation so guess I'll go withCoplantorpurely cause he already has a vote on him.
I'll only say lynching me will bring the record of my first day lynches to 3 villager, 2 mason. I'll still never have been lynched as wolf on day 1 :smalltongue:
A too-thin girl, brown roots showing under her cheap black-and-red dye job, wanders the halls of the manor, sighing. She scratches absently at the fresh white bandages around each of her wrists. Miranda had spent the first 20 years of her life alone, bouncing around from foster home to foster home, and had found out less than a year ago that she had a sister - Marian. She looked down for the thousandth time at the old, oft-folded photograph she carried. A pretty, plain girl with light brown hair, grey eyes, dressed simply. She had learned that her sister had wanted to be a nun, to serve God. Miranda snorted quietly - how different of her young life, spent hooking to pay for her drug habit. So she had come here...only to find that her sister was gone, killed by...whatever had trapped her here now. And so she had tried to kill herself. Her last chance at a connection with someone, gone. Miranda had woken once in the hospital, so she knew she was alive, but that was it. Still, she didn't want to be trapped in here alone.
((DD))
*An older looking man in a poor taste tweed coat with closely matching luggage dropped his bags on the floor of the foyer. Glancing around the room anf the odd assortment of the crowd, he cleared his throat noisily...*
Could someone explain to me why we chose this creepy place to spend the week? :smallconfused: That is the last time I book with a cheap travel agent... :smallsigh:
One of us will kill you, but only one.
*Glancing around in panic, the professor quickly grabbed his bags and clutched them to his chest*
:eek:Someone's going to kill us?! Now I am definately going to find a new agent. And could you (points and Aemoh) please explain to me why we're all pointing at different people? :smallconfused:
Shadowhisper while I fugure out a character to play.
Shadowhisper
Officially, I'm pointing at him because he pointed at me.
Unofficially, I'm pointing at him because I need an alternate bandwagon that isn't me :smalltongue:
Fin because i don't really know.
Edit:
Oops sorry. :smallredface:
ME'S HUNGRY I SLEEP IN KITCHEN.
FIN, UNTIL HE BRINGS MORE CAKE.
I thought we had to wait until night to say where we were going to spend the night. Otherwise I'd have grabbed a kitchen slot ages ago. Anyone for a midnight feast? And by feast I don't mean a few cookies and some stale doughnuts.
Sunny Carter, eight years old, wandered the house, not looking into the faces of the adults as she passed. She had long since given up any thought of finding her parents. She didn't even know what she was looking for until she found it.
A screwdriver.
Clutching it triumphantly, she started to look for somewhere to put it to use.
((Andre Fairchilde))
R. Enwith Fieldstyle considered the whole affair with aplomb. "Really, ascent to godhood? How quaint and novel.
It'll be like that whole Innsmouth situation all over 'gain, wot wot?"
((Murska - because why should JX have all the fun?))
The Bookworm. RP later.
Skeeter, having eaten the soup bone, starts to look for a nice warm lap to nap in. He wanders through the house, growls at Fleeing Coward, and wanders some more.
Brian shudders as he remembers his brush with the Necronomicon. Perhaps trying to find it again wasn't such a good idea. But he can't ever forget the secrets it promised him. The knowledge. The power.
This lady won't have it. He won't let her take it from him!
"No, nothing like that. Guinness book of world records dating all the way back to 1950 is all." His tone indicates there is no more room for discussion on the matter.
Lost. Lost. Lost.
Everyone gone. Only monsters.
Then came light.
Curled up under a window, on the upper floor of the manor, Phant opens his eyes.
"I'm still... alive?"
Staying on the upper floor, he hides from the others, fleeing from them like a coward.
Miranda sees a dog headed her way and smiles, kneeling down and offering her hand. "Hey there boy. Wanna be my friend? I'm sure we've got things in common."
The dog may notice a small, moon-shaped birthmark just under her ear.
The dog sniffs Miranda's hand, sneezes, and wags his tail at her before skittering off playfully.
Miranda sighs. Great, now even my own kind avoids me. A rueful chuckle.
Skeeter spins and yips at her, crouching down. His tail wags and he looks like he wants to play.
I'll point at FujinAkiri.
Miranda, smiling widely, drops to all fours and lowers her head, playfully growling.
Skeeter moves from side to side quickly, but doesn't run forward. He barks, taunting Miranda to chase him.
Miranda leaps to her feet and takes off after the dog, laughing.
Skeeter turns and darts down the hallway, barking. He runs under the end table that is in there for some reason.
I'll catch with the RP later. In the meantime, I'll randomly point at Jontom Xire