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  Hellmouth (pronounced HAL-muth, thank you very much!) is a cozy little town, located on picturesque Hellmouth Island, in the beautiful Hellmouth Bay. The town’s beleaguered tourism board very much want you to know about the cheerfully coloured little townhouses, the boats that can be chartered for deep sea fishing and whale watching. Here, have a ballcap with Sammy the Atlantic Salmon, town mascot on it! The misprint gives it character, 50% off! Hellmouth is a nice town full of happy people living productive lives. Not like that awful Carlspoint on the mainland -- full of drugs and crime and unemployment -- that’s where all the real problems come from. Or so the island’s older population like to tell each other, and everyone else whenever the topic comes up. In reality, Hellmouth is facing similar problems to many small American towns. The fish plant closed down back in the 90s when a larger one opened up across the bay. At least half of the working adults have jobs in Carlspoint, taking the ferry to work in the morning and coming back at night. The population and city council’s funds had been steadily shrinking even before the recession, and the situation has hardly improved in the decade since. There are half as many shuttered up shops on Mainstreet as there are open ones, public works have been crumbling, and only a stubborn sense of resentment on the locals’ part kept a plan to amalgamate the town into the Greater Carlspoint Area from going through a couple years ago. The winters are awful, hurricane season is worse, and it is impossible to get decent cell reception in this town. You really hit the lottery in terms of places to grow up, huh? You live here -- maybe you were born in Hellmouth, or maybe your parents dragged you here for some loving reason. Either way, it’s September, and you’re just a couple weeks into a new year at Hellmouth High. You’ve got your share of problems -- you’re a teenager, after all. Relationship drama, parents, school, maybe a part time job, if you can manage to find one in this town. But that’s the least of it: You’re different, somehow. Maybe it’s new, or maybe you’ve always known it. But you’re not like everyone else. Not like most humans, even. Maybe something strange and terrible happens when you look up at a full moon. Or maybe you have appetites that are… unusual. Or maybe you know how to punish people who wrong you, in ways it’s hard for you to explain. Regardless, things suck, and no one understands. ---- So, here I am, trying this again -- most of you know the drill. Monsterhearts is a game about being teen monsters and making terrible decisions and have no idea who they are or what they’re doing. All you really need to play is the reference sheet and the core skins -- you can find those with a quick Google search. If you have access to the Second Skins supplement, or the Angel, the Hollow or the Serpentine, feel free to submit one of those as well. If you want to use a third party skin, please run it past me -- but there are actually some decent ones out there by this point, so don’t be shy about that. There are no other restrictions on skins; I trust ghoul players not to be rapey shitheads. Applications will likely run for about a week, closing next Sunday, August 7th. I will be asking everyone who applies several questions in order to help me get a feel for their character and to help them develop their concept further -- that part’s always fun, and it might run a little bit longer than Sunday if there are people who need more time For those applying, please pick a skin, post a description/backstory for your character (doing this in-character is a major plus), and answer the following questions: 1. What’s your least favourite place on this island? 2. What’s the worst or strangest thing that you’ve seen or experienced on this island? Reference pictures are not required, but encouraged. Cute little header images are also not required, but everyone uses them anyway, so knock yourself out. Posts will be written in first-person present-tense. This game may contain highly sensitive content, such as bigotry, emotional/physical abuse and other issues that might affect a teenager in a run down small American town. If you’re uncomfortable at any point, please speak up, and we’ll do what we can to make you feel comfortable. Your wellbeing is more important to me than stupid elfgames. There's also an official guide to engaging safely with Monsterhearts, if you're interested: You can contact me through PM, or over IRC. I’ll be in #persona and #swampthings most days for the duration of this game -- the latter is where the majority of people actively playing Monsterhearts in this forum talk about it anyway. Good luck and have fun, everyone. Gazetteer fucked around with this message at 23:17 on Aug 1, 2016 |
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Aug 1, 2016 02:15
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 Nathaniel Motes, the Angel Imagine this: You're born (sort of) into a large family. Everything seems good. Really good. And for a while, it is. Then you start doing work for them. Sometimes it seems like you're doing terrible things for unknown reasons. But it's always "for the greater good." And your father is pretty much unquestionable. So you just go along with it. But after so many preventable deaths, so many killings, so many lived potentially ruined, you begin to wonder - is it really? And you express that doubt to everyone else you know. Imagine this: They freak out. They tell you you aren't supposed to ask questions, that you're supposed to just do what they tell you. And you know that to keep this attitude up, to go against the thought that everything you do has a divine purpose, a justifiable reason that just happenes to never get explained...that would get the wrong kind of attention. From the man up high. So you keep quiet. Imagine this: One day you're told to go to some random small island, to watch and observe and report back so that you can get more orders you can't question. You're obviously supposed to be dealing with something going on, but of course the people at top aren't going to tell you what. But the thing is, you've got a secret. You can use your powers to change reality - make it so that you live on the island, go to the school there, have a history that seems real enough to the ordinary mortals. Get out of this terrible obligation and handle things that threaten the average person the way you want to. Be free. So you do. quote:
quote:1. What’s your least favourite place on this island? The church. On an island this small, there's only really one that just about everyone goes to. You can probably guess why I hate it. It's so aggravating, seeing people go in Sunday and try to talk to the Lord. Like he'd answer anyway. Sometimes I just want to throw rocks through all the windows. And sometimes...I just want to go in. quote:2. What’s the worst or strangest thing that you’ve seen or experienced on this island? The worst? That would be when I came here for the first time. It was at night, and I ran into Cohen Merrill and his gang. He's apparently some idiot psycho who goes around threatening people. You'd think the authorities here would do something about him, but I guess they're as terrible as the ones back home. Anyway I didn't know who he was and he started threatening me - waving a knife around, trying to demand I hand over money. I wasn't sure what he'd do so I fought back. Managed to drive them away, but I got pretty badly injured. They haven't come after me yet, but I'm keeping an eye for them all the same. Heliotrope fucked around with this message at 09:12 on Aug 3, 2016 |
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Aug 1, 2016 02:17
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 Anne Jean Walton, the Fae People used to notice so much more in the old days. And no, I'm not some 'old-fashioned' grump, railing against cell phones. I mean the real old days, the ones that came before silly things like electricity and penicillin. Back then people were actually in touch with the world and everything that lived there... or visited. Hmm? Well I'll try to explain, but don't blame me if I lead you astray~ Have you ever seen a circle of mushrooms out in the forest, or maybe on someone's lawn? Well those are called faerie rings, and old legends say that's where the Fair Folk danced in the moonlight. Well time likes to distort things a bit, so those old legends aren't entirely accurate, though they do have one part right. The faeries. Come on, does this really look like the face of a girl that would lie to you? I'm serious, faeries are real, and it used to be that lots of people could see them. But of course, 'reason' and 'rationality' came around, and taught people that the Fair Folk weren't real, that they were only stories. Some places believed longer than most, and that's where you'll find the most people that can still see us. Yes, us. I'm one of them, a Fae. Well, half-Fae anyway. It was my mother, and I don't know anything about her, really. Dad doesn't talk about it, what he does say makes me think it was very bittersweet for him. It's why we live here actually. She disappeared for some time, a few years at least, then showed up again one day with a baby, gave me and a folder with all the right papers and left again. He moved out here to Hellmouth after that. What else is a man going to do when he's got a sudden baby daughter that he didn't have the night before? All the old memories probably helped, I think. So I grew up out here. Had lots of imaginary friends as a kid. The grown ups used to love listening to my stories of playing with faeries and sprites. Except my dad. 'Cause he could see them all too, and he knew I wasn't making any of it up. And you know what? Faeries are amazing! The Heartland is so much more beautiful than here, and way more fun too. Things there aren't boring like they are here, the Heartland isn't like this or that, it just is! If that doesn't make sense to you then, well I'm sorry that you're one of the many poor people that just can't see right. So yeah, since I was a kid I've been passing between my two homes, learning the ways of both of my people. There are good parts to both, which just makes me wish even harder that the world was like it used to be, where there were whole chunks of the Heartlands that tons of people could see and even visit! When those that noticed the little hidden places in the world didn't get called crazy. I wish more people could see the world like I do. Sigh ... You know, I could take you there, if you really want to see it. There's a spot not too far from here, an older faerie ring, where we can cross over into the Heartlands. Just follow me, it's easy trip if you know the way. All you have to do is stay close. Oh... and make me one little, teensy promise~ Anne Jean Walton posted:Skin: The Fae quote:What’s your least favourite place on this island?  The old factory district. The fish plant may have closed down but there's still a few smaller hold outs left. I can't really stand the place, it reeks of sadness and decay. Most places have a half dozen spots where they still touch the Heartlands, but out there, nothing. Not one place. I don't like it. Not one bit. quote:What’s the worst or strangest thing that you’ve seen or experienced on this island? ShootaBoy fucked around with this message at 05:38 on Aug 1, 2016 |
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Aug 1, 2016 02:28
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Apping a witch. A SCIENCE witch.
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Aug 1, 2016 02:34
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I want to be a Ghoul or a Werewolf. I'm going to mullet over. Get it, like the fish.
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Aug 1, 2016 02:46
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A Mortal or a Queen I think.
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Aug 1, 2016 02:52
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I'm thinking Hollow or Angel right now, but we'll see how it goes.
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Aug 1, 2016 02:59
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It's been so long since I even looked at the MH corebok but I'm interested. Maybe Mortal, maybe Neighbor, if that's allowed.
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Aug 1, 2016 03:23
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They say that if the world had been created a minute ago, with everything in motion, you would never know. But I do. The world ended last year and it came back, and when it came back, things were different. Scott Mulligan, the Hollow  I woke up and my room was different, my body was different, even my name was different. I went down to breakfast and my parents called me by someone else's name, and I didn't react in time. When they figured out there were a lot of things I didn't remember, they took me to see a doctor. The doctor said I had partial retrograde amnesia. I didn't dare tell them about the world I remembered; it'd just convince them they were right. I didn't tell them about how much it hurt when my best friends didn't know me anymore. I didn't tell them my name used to be Stacey. My parents thought we should have a fresh start, so they moved to Hellmouth. It's still tough fitting into what they expect of me, but at least I don't have to see my former best friends every day at school anymore. Look: haunted, desperate eyes Origin: a human being undone by the soulless machinery of the cosmos Stats: Hot -1, Cold 0, Volatile 1, Dark 1 Moves:
Gazetteer posted:1. What’s your least favourite place on this island? Oh, god, the worst place has got to be "The Mall". Yeah, that's what they call it. It's a shopping square in the middle of town. Maybe twenty years ago it was nice, but now it's just got a Dairy Queen, the Goodwill store, some used book store with books piled so high you can barely get in run by a guy who thinks everything's worth a million bucks just because it's old, and Half-Off Winez (yes, that's the spelling on the sign). Everything else is boarded up, because who the gently caress wants to open a business in this wasteland? (I'll answer the second one in a bit.) inklesspen fucked around with this message at 04:05 on Aug 1, 2016 |
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Aug 1, 2016 03:58
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  *ahem* "Diary of a Princess by Eclair Vermilion "Here on the island of Mythrel, the prosperous capital of the kingdom of Curls, a golden-haired princess awaits with bated breath the decision of her father. Will the king, who loves his daughter very much, allow Eclair to wed the handsome man from Delphaia? Or must she take up her duty and lead Mythrel into another golden age? Love or duty?" As our astute narrator seemed to be setting up, love conquers all, and she lives happily ever after. But my story strays closer to real life. On the island of Hellmouth, in the bay of Hellmouth, exporter of such goods as... A girl with blonde hair grew stagnant with her developing superpowers. It seemed she could control time, for a time, merely by staring at the clock and watching the hands slow to a crawl. Her touch caused death; where once stood her favorite outlet store now was a boarded up facade decorated with profanities. And she could make people burst into laughter with the magic words in her grimoire. It captured dreams, her grimoire, but when opened by the wrong hands, the magic disappeared forever, replaced with a dark gnawing. The dark words mocked her, even as it looked the same as her dreams. The dark told the girl, "This is your fault. Everything you touch dies. Everything you see fades, and the void consumes it. You see, the world isn't yours to rule!" the dark would say. "There is no escape from me!" And the girl replied, "You're wrong. I know the way." The dark chased her through the streets, grey skies mocking her advance, white stone buildings closing in on her, the woods lashing out in anger. "How dare you try to dream! How dare you deny us, for we are real, as real as you!" A roaring rumble closed in on her, the maw of the great dark opening wide, its teeth sharp, its tongue rippling with hunger. When the dark reached out to swallow the girl whole, she cried out, "I know a place where you can never hurt me." And she leaped into its mouth, and she was gone.  What have we learned from that story? I got a little lost in the metaphor, but still: what's the moral? Well, nothing. Nothing useful anyway. It used to be "Death is inevitable, but it's all the more reason to remain hopeful as we live." But when I crawled onto the beach that night, I lost what hope I had left. Like Charlton Heston in front of his decrepit liberty, all I could do was scream. I was ready to give up everything if it meant being away from them, but instead I wake up with them staring me in the face. Metaphorically. I didn't realize at first that I was missing an ear and a significant portion of my head. I became aware of it when I heard a sharp ringing coming from my right, just as I passed the old lifeguard station. You know, the one that caught fire a few years ago? Yeah. My head healed up soon after that. People don't deserve hope. The people who fight to protect you only do so out of obligation, and even then they're only people with their own fear and hatred. No, people should realize just how disgustingly painful the world is. When I get my pangs, I pass it on. I want people to know what killed me was not my own feet, but the arm of despair, inevitable and unforgiving, shoving me over the brink. This place is Hell. And soon enough it'll start looking like it. quote:Name: Clair Foenix quote:1. What's your least favorite place on this island? There's a park a little inland of the main thoroughfare, and one of its main attractions was an antique indoor carousel, lovingly restored in 1971, and thoughtlessly demolished in 1998. The building part of it, anyway; the carousel just disappeared. The foundation of it still sits there in the middle of the park, a bare cement octagon with little pocks of rust where steel pipes used to hold up something beautiful. quote:2. What’s the worst or strangest thing that you’ve seen or experienced on this island? Toward the far port, just as the salt surges into the air, there's a spot where seagulls seem inclined to settle in the middle of the road. I've needed to walk down there many times, and just as I pass the sign that says "Port Fitzgerald Ahead," someone drives over one of the seagulls. It's like their instincts have been so dulled by the island that they accept death and refuse to acknowledge their own wings. It's only ever one at a time, and no matter how much death surrounds them, the birds keep coming back. I saw it happen once, and the driver even shouted out the window of his pick-up truck, "Goddamn birds!" I wanted to see him splayed out on the road there, broken wings searching in vain for flight... Sometimes I feel like the bird, and sometimes I feel like the truck. Double May Care fucked around with this message at 03:46 on Aug 4, 2016 |
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Aug 1, 2016 05:33
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Ooh, definitely interested. Thinking Vampire or Infernal maybe.
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Aug 1, 2016 05:55
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  quote:Name: Sapphire Waverly I came to this place to learn. To discover for myself the surface world, as all royalty must do. Even though some never come back, my parents to this day state their time spent on land as the single most valuable part of their education. Of course, that was many hundreds of years ago... I guess things have changed a lot since them. Because so far, I haven't learned anything! AND SOMEBODY STOLE MY PELT! I guess I need start at the beginning. This town called... Hellmouth... was the first place I saw as I swam upward. The island lies perilously close to the ravine that leads the the Deep Kingdom, you see. I wouldn't be surprised at all, in a few thousand more years, if the island sunk beneath the shores, as all islands do. As all land will one day do, as my people's teachings hold. I was attracted so much to this place for that big light they have, right out facing the sea! A perfect welcome for my supermergence, or so one would think! But far from a royal greeting, all that awaited me were several tiny crabs and one rather annoyed looking kitty cat! And that just ran off when I climbed up onto land - rude! It took a while to get my land legs, and then of course I had to hide my pelt as my father had instructed. There was this strange wooden structure there, where the light was coming from - I have since learned its name, a lighthouse - wherein I placed my pelt. Nobody had attended to my reception, surely nobody knew about this beacon, or so I thought. Alas, I was certainly wrong, for upon returning my pelt was missing. And now I find out that somebody STOLE IT! But that all came later. In fact, my first few days in Hellmouth were far from what I'd expected. No... the tribal people from the area were somehow all gone, replaced by "Americans" as they call themselves. Rather than honoring my people, I was ignored, or laughed off! It was all by happenstance, I presume, then that I found Mr. Brannon, who runs what they call a youth shelter. He gave me some food and a small woolen platform on which to sleep... you wouldn't believe how uncomfortable it is, and itchy! I haven't the faintest why these people gave up their pelts and just walk around with skin all day, it's so uncomfortable! However, Mr. Brannon did see fit to enroll me in the local school, and I've since learned quite a lot about these people. Words for things the Deep Kingdom doesn't have... the cultures and ways of each individual. I will say that... while skin is quite a nuisance, clothing is altogether pleasant and quite to my liking. It's like... why, it's like wearing a new pelt each day! Speaking of which... did you steal it?! Give it back! Frgrbrgr fucked around with this message at 04:42 on Aug 2, 2016 |
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Aug 1, 2016 06:15
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App is located below, to make sure it didn't get accidentally overlooked for questions.
Rauri fucked around with this message at 08:30 on Aug 3, 2016 |
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Aug 1, 2016 07:26
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  Do you know growing up on Hellmouth I used to kind of hate it. I mean even Carlspoint looks down on us for crying out loud and Carlspoint is a dump too. But as I've got older and wiser and figured out more of it's secrets I've realised there's more going on in this place than anyone really seems to acknowledge. But yeah I guess it might be easier if I started off at the beginning. My names Rhian. With a H yes it's a welsh name and I think the family is welsh originally going way back. There was an Owens on the first town charter and according to my mom who's nuts about all that genealogy crap he's some sort of distant ancestor of ours. So yeah we've been here a long loving time. Just putting down roots I suppose. Kinda sucks though doesn't it being stuck on Hellmouth all your life though. Luckily there are diversions for those smart enough to find them. For me it was weed that's what got me through another lovely day on the island god forgot and in a funny way it's my love of the green stuff that got me into this wonderful terrible awesome magical mess in the first place. See I'd snuck up to the attic to smoke where my mom or dad wouldn't be able to smell the fumes and I cleared a few boxes out of the way so I could sit down and get properly baked and that's when I found it. A book. Although calling it a book is like a thousand percent understatement. My salvation. I thought it was some old journal at first especially when I saw my grandmothers handwriting. I mean she died way before I was born so I never really knew her. I kind of wish I did because if half what she put in there was true she was a cool old lady. Anyway in this book in some sort of cryptic language were notes. Spells. See I knew you'd laugh at me. No I'm not loving kidding real honest to god magic. I've only really figured out what a few of them do. But they actually work. Providing you have some sort of link to the person you're casting the spell on you can do well... all sorts of things. So far I've only learnt one or two tricks. Like there's this one spell that makes it impossible for you to lie. You remember how Mel the cheerleader ended up breaking up with her boyfriend a few weeks back? Yeah turns out she was two timing with his best friend behind his back and she confessed it openly to him. Hahaha that'll teach the bitch to make fun of my fashion sense. I almost wish I could tell her it was me just to see the look on her face. And that's only the start. Once I figure out the rest of this book the worlds my oyster. Or at least Hellmouth is. it's gonna be a fun year... quote:1. What’s your least favourite place on this island? Smugglers Cove rumour has it that the cove was used by tea smugglers originally and then later used by people avoiding customs, then the gangsters used it during prohibition... there's been plans to develop into a serious tourist trap for years but every time someone takes over the project they don't seem to last long. Things burn down, people die of heartattacks. Building contractors report loud moaning and screaming and the ghostly sound of gunfire. 2. What’s the worst or strangest thing that you’ve seen or experienced on this island? Worst thing I've found on the island is a pentacle drawn in very fresh blood. I mean like as in as if someone had put it down just moments before I arrived. I've checked grandmas notes and she says something about blood pentacles being seriously bad news. Something to do with demons or hell. I found it in one of the old fish gutting plants where no one goes these days, Does that mean there's someone else around who can do the same kind of magic I'm figuring out? I wonder who it is and I wonder what they're trying to accomplish. quote:Name: Rhian Owens Ferrosol fucked around with this message at 23:21 on Aug 6, 2016 |
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Aug 1, 2016 08:41
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Thinking of apping an Infernal.
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Aug 1, 2016 08:42
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Going to edit this post tonight with a Werewolf or Chosen, probably! Maybe a Unicorn.
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Aug 1, 2016 19:40
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Anne the Fae, Question 1 Are you sure about that offer? You brought someone else to that faerie ring pretty recently, and it was a complete disaster. Who was it, and what happened? Clair the Ghoul, Question 1 There's at least one person who you scared bad enough that it made you feel absolutely awful afterward -- which is a big deal, considering how little you feel these days in general. Who was that? What did you do to them? Nathaniel the Angel, Question 1 What's the worst part of the cover you've made for yourself, and who is making it so bad for you? Sapphire the Selkie, Question 1 There's someone else staying at the youth center who goes to class with you. Why do you have such mixed feelings about them? Scott the Hollow, Question 1 There's someone who's nice to you now that you know would have treated you much worse if they'd known you before things changed. Who are they and why do you think that?
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Aug 1, 2016 20:32
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  I've always been kinda fascinated by the ocean. Maybe it's just cause I grew up here and it's the only thing this town has going for it but it always felt like it was something else. Something bigger. As a kid I used to make messages in bottles with my Dad. You know, just goofy "To whoever finds this" kinda letters, sealed them up with wax all professional. Or at least it always seemed professional to me as a kid even though you really just drip a candle over the stopper. We didn't put our address, phone number or even names on them, but it was just fun imagining some person somewhere finding them. Anyway, that was back when things were still good, before they closed the fish plant and he had to take a shittier job for shittier pay across the bay. Now everything's just kinda lovely, but that's Hellmouth for you, I guess. And then things got... weird. Like, turn your world upside down kinda weird. I was out by the dunes on the east-side of the island. It's a great spot to just get away from things and have a few beers with nobody bothering you. It gets kinda rocky the further north you go but I wasn't really ready to head back so I just started clambering over the rocks. I was making sure to stick to the dry rocks, so I wouldn't slip, but somehow there must have been a puddle at some point or something cause there was this patch of algae I must have missed. My foot just went out right from under me and I hit the rocks pretty hard and tumbled right over the edge into the water. The water was pretty cold and for a moment everything felt like icicles. I was lucky I didn't hit any more rocks cause it was hard enough to breathe and keep myself up already and then the wave hit me. I thought I was going to get smashed into the rocks but instead there must have been an opening I didn't notice from above because instead I got swept into some kinda cave. When it's low tide you can just get in there without getting soaked, but that's getting ahead of myself. I pulled myself out of the water and realized I was in some kind of washed out cave underneath he rocks I'd just been walking on. It wasn't huge but big enough for me to stand up and walk around at least and that's when I heard this weird clinking sound. Like picking up a garbage bag full of empty bottles. And bottles was right, there on one side of the cave was this whole mess of bottles just kind of bobbing in the water. I thought it was just trash that got swept in here at first but then I noticed there were papers in them. I fished one of them out. It was dotted with barnacles and I had to wipe off some algae slime to get a good look but it was definitely a letter. It was actually kinda tricky to get it open (corked, wax dripped all over the top to seal it) so I just kinda smashed it on the rocks and fished out the letter. It was faded but I still recognized my own handwriting from forever ago. I laughed when I realized all those bottles probably just got swept up in the current instead of ending up in all kinds of exotic places I pictured as a kid but then I saw that there was something written on the back of the letter and suddenly the ocean didn't feel all that cold anymore compared to the pit in my stomach. At the top of the piece of paper it read "Dear Riley" I had never even put my name on those letters, yet here was an answer. Telling me how interesting my letter was (It wasn't, unless you really care about what school lunch had been that day or the imaginary adventures of my dolls fighting dinosaurs.) and how they would love to hear more. I freaked out but at the same time I couldn't walk away from this. I grabbed more bottles and smashed them open. All of them had answers on the back of my letters. Most of them were really weird and angry, talking about how I wasn't listening, as if I had spurned them somehow by continuing to send inane messages about my day to day life. And sometimes they mentioned things that weren't even in the letter but that I remembered, like the day I found Ms. Hanson's dead cat in the street and dreamed about being chased by a giant zombie cat that night or when I stole five dollars from Dad's wallet and got halfway to the store before I felt so guilty I ran home and put it back. poo poo that I've never told anybody. I freaked out. I dropped the letter and just bailed, straight into the ocean to try and swim out of this god drat cave. I may have been panicked but I'm a good swimmer, I'm used to the ocean and the currents but that didn't seem to matter. I made it a couple yards, far enough that I could see the grey sky again before a current pulled me under. I tried to struggle back to the surface but like an idiot I'd gasped out most of my air. And still all I could think of were those letters. Dear Riley. And I thought that if someone knew that much about me, had been watching me somehow, then maybe they were doing so right now, maybe they could help me. That was the last thing going through my head as my lungs just gave in and tried to breathe, water be damned. Except I didn't die. It didn't even really hurt. It just felt like this clammy cold suddenly spread through me and I felt like I could do anything. This was the ocean. It's always been there and I had no reason to be scared of it. All I had to do was accept the lightless abyss, breath it in and let it become part of me. Answer the call I'd been unknowingly ignoring for so long and it'd keep me safe. I woke up on the beach, drenched but otherwise fine. A seagull was screeching at me from a couple feet away and flew away the moment I stirred. In my hand I was clutching one of my letters. It didn't have an answer on the back but it didn't have to. I remember writing it. At school we'd just learned about the oceans and how deep they are and, like, basic ecosystem crap so that day I had decided I'd send out one of my letters to the ocean itself. You know, dumb kid stuff. As I walked away from the shore and back home it didn't feel that dumb anymore. Naive maybe, but as I walked I realized I could still hear the waves crashing in my head and feel the rise and fall of the waters pulling on my mind, promising to provide whatever strength I need from the forgotten depths. quote:1. What’s your least favourite place on this island? The tourist center. Oh my god, it's so... kitsch. It's trying to sell something this place just isn't anymore. Or maybe it never was. Everyone clings to the idea that it's the way to fix this town, when they're not busy blaming Carlspoint, but I know better now. This place is going to poo poo because it no longer respects what supported it for so long. The sea is strangling the life out of this place because. Who knows why exactly, but the fat tourists sure as gently caress don't help. quote:2. What’s the worst or strangest thing that you’ve seen or experienced on this island? Aside from the bottled messages? Probably the time it literally rained fish. Not, like, crazy amounts but enough that it sounded stupid when people tried to come up with a logical explanation. But the weirdest part was when the priest from the Church of Living Water tried to talk people out of cleaning the mess up. Kept talking about how the town had been blessed or somesuch and when people didn't listen he started grabbing as many fish as he could to do god knows what with. Couple people tried eating the fish cause, hey, free food right? Tasted kinda funky but seemed alright and at least something in return for having the whole town smell even worse like fish than usual. Couple people got sick though, guess not all of them were fresh or maybe they didn't clean and prepare them properly. quote:Name: Riley Keene Atropha fucked around with this message at 16:02 on Aug 3, 2016 |
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Aug 1, 2016 21:58
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Probably apping a Queen or a Wolf.
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Aug 1, 2016 22:40
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 (image source) Spencer Jacobs, the Ghost I know most people hate how quiet Hellmouth is, but I kind of like it. When I was a kid, we were always moving, and it was always chaos -- and it was my fault. I was sick. I got sick when I was... five or so? I can kind of remember going to preschool with my brother, back before everything got crazy, but I never even started kindergarten. My parents never really told me what was wrong, but I was just... never strong enough to go to school. It seemed like it went in cycles: I'd start to feel really bad, it'd get bad enough that I'd go to the hospital, and usually that helped, but then I'd go home and things would get bad again. A lot of those days blend together now, so it's hard to remember just when it happened, but I think I was eight when we moved for the first time? Mom and Dad sent my brother and sister to live with Grandma and Grandpa Coen, and then we moved. They said they were looking for better hospitals, for specialists, for doctors who could help. I don't think we ever stayed anywhere longer than a year or so after that. None of the doctors were able to help for long, and my parents got angry about it. Or at me? I could never tell. They'd just get this look in their eyes, like they couldn't bear looking at me anymore, like why wouldn't I just die -- So we kept moving, and it never got any better. They told me Hellmouth was going to be different, a different kind of healing, and it wasn't until they drove me to the church for the first time that I realized they meant faith healing. I guess they were just desperate? There wasn't anything I could do about it, anyway. Pastor Greene told me there was nothing to fear, that I was in the hand of the Lord, but I was just too tired to even be afraid of death anymore. I guess that was a good thing, because it was all downhill after that. The chanting, the oil anointing, the fasting and the cleanses: nothing did anything. No surprise, huh? One night, midway through the fast, I just... I don't know what happened. I can't remember. But I know it was the end. I woke up again in my parents' rental house -- ours, I guess, but I barely even lived there. My parents were gone, and it was dusty enough that I knew they'd been gone for a while, probably since right after I died. I think it was April when I died, and when I woke up, it was June, I think. The landlord had turned off the electricity in the rental house, but my stuff was there, so I just stayed. Nobody's tried to rent in since then, so I guess it's still my house? It gets dark at night, but I found a camping lantern in the closet so I can read at night, if I want to. I don't think I'm actually enrolled in school. There's no reason for me to go, I guess? I mean, I'm dead, it's not like I'm going to college or anything. It's just so nice to go to school for once, even if nobody really talks to me. Nobody gives me any why-aren't-you-dead looks. And I'm not alone. Sometimes I think it'd be nice to have friends, or... somebody who liked me... but at least when I'm at school, I'm not alone. It's nice. Usually it doesn't even hurt at all anymore. quote:The Ghost quote:1. What’s your least favourite place on this island? It's the church where I died. I mean, where else would it be? I think it's called the Lord of Living Water Church, on the north side of town. It's all old stone and moss, and it smells so damp inside, like something cold and rotting. There's a graveyard out back, mostly old graves, but some new ones. I think one is mine, but I don't want to go looking. quote:2. What’s the worst or strangest thing that you’ve seen or experienced on this island? Worst is pretty obvious, I guess, but strangest? Well, one day, I went to the library. I thought maybe I could get a library card. When I got to the desk to fill out the form, the lady there really looked at me in a way most people don't. I mean, it's not that bad -- if I ask people questions, they respond, it's not like I'm totally not there -- but usually people don't look quite at me these days. The reference-desk lady looked me in the eye, though, and smiled, and she took my form and gave me a card even though I didn't have any ID. "Sweetheart, you come back if you need anything, okay? I know it's hard for a boy on his own." How did she know? I'm not upset, and it's nice to be able to check out books, but... does she know who I am? What I am? And if she does, why does she like me? Antivehicular fucked around with this message at 03:37 on Aug 2, 2016 |
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Aug 2, 2016 02:58
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Never finished these so just putting them here. quote:What’s your least favourite place on this island? Least favourite? Well, for the last few weeks, that would definitely mean Hellmouth High, the only high school on the island. My least favorite, because why in the world would humans subject their young to such a boring place? Is it some strange punishment? Or a tradition that nobody really understands anymore, like catching seahorses and tapping them on the nose, then letting them go as I grew up doing? Regardless, youth should be spent roaming free and swimming in the ocean. Sitting behind a desk? Blurgh. I only do it because Mr. Brannon has been stressing on me how important it is, and he's been so nice to me... I guess it's the least I could do. quote:What’s the worst or strangest thing that you’ve seen or experienced on this island? One day, early on when I was settling into human life, a group of what I would later be able to call "college students" arrived, on some sort of escapade for their summer vacation. All males, and clearly preparing for some sort of mating ritual, they drove through town in a large automobile, calling out to every female they could find. When they passed me by, they stopped the car and one of them hopped out. At first, I was flattered by the attention, he even called me gorgeous! But then he wouldn't stop, and his suggestions kept on getting more and more lewd... and definitely not welcome. I mean... this was a commoner! And a cruel one at that. As soon as I made my intentions not to go with him clear, he started cursing at me, and almost grabbed me! So I screamed at him and ran, fast, back to the shelter. I suppose it could've just been a misunderstanding... but some of the stories I hear about these out-of-towners, especially those from a place called Carlspoint... well, they're less than encouraging about humanity. quote:There's someone else staying at the youth center who goes to class with you. Why do you have such mixed feelings about them? There is this one boy, Jeremiah Stump, who is always so... mysterious. He's in my "grade" at the school, and even sits in most of the same classes with me. But we've never talked... something about him just makes him so unapproachable. He always seems so sad, like - like if he did talk, it would be about loss and regret. And I get enough of that just thinking about the Deep Kingdom and all that I'm missing while I'm up here among the humans. I don't think I need any more of that. But then again, sometimes when I spot him, he's looking right at me and he has this warm smile on his face, like he just got finished dancing with a school of dolphins. When he sees me looking back, though, he turns away, going back to that dark place. What is with him?! Maybe... do you think he has my pelt? Would he give it back if I asked nicely?  Jeremiah Stump
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Aug 2, 2016 05:15
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 Gazetteer posted:Anne the Fae, Question 1 Sigh... And I had almost put that behind me. But yes, you're right, I did have a... mishap not too far back. Stan Eyman is his name, sounds like he should be in his 70's doesn't it? But no, he's a classmate of mine and until recently he had a bit of a crush on me. Even if he has an old man's name he is decently cute. We were doing some flirting when I offered to "take him to someplace magical." It's not my fault he was thinking something different than I was. Anyway, we crossed over into the Heartlands and while explaining a bit about where we were I turned away for a second and he bolted! You'd think he'd be capable of listening to me when I told him to stay close, but no. That was apparently too hard for him to follow. The Heartlands being what they are I couldn't find a panicked stranger in just a few hours, so I had to leave him there for a while. After a couple days I was able to smoke him out with some... assistance from a few locals. He covered an impressive distance for an outsider, the crossing I pulled him from was almost all the way across town from where we went in. He doesn't have the crush on me anymore. He mostly avoids me now, which is kind of sad really. I could do a lot to help him, explain what he saw and smelled and felt out there. Make him appreciate it all. Such a sad story...
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Aug 2, 2016 05:15
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EDIT: Nvm, thought better of it
TheCog fucked around with this message at 04:03 on Aug 3, 2016 |
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Aug 2, 2016 05:52
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  I hate the word hero these days. Heroes run into danger without thinking, do the right thing selflessly. Then they die. People say how sorry they are when a hero dies saving some rich idiots on a yacht from a winter storm. They show up and cry at the funeral, maybe re-name something stupid like a jetty after them. But that doesn't bring a hero back. My Dad didn't want to be a hero. He wanted to be a small-town sheriff who got to go boating with his Coast Guard buddies on weekends. He wanted to tell stupid jokes to make his kid and sister groan. He wanted to drink beer and watch college football and have occasional affairs with single tourist women and complain about his 'bitch ex-wives' and never, ever do anything more dangerous than wrangling a drunk fisherman into the cells to sleep off their big night out. Then he did one brave thing to help out people in trouble, and he died. Went out in a storm because his buddies were short handed, went on to the other boat, and drowned when it capsized. So when I say I don't want to be a hero I know what I'm talking about, ok? But I'm not sure I have a choice. Dad was always very protective of his shed which Aunt Kathy and me always put down to it being his 'man-cave' or whatever but after the funeral I decided to go and clean it out - he thought I didn't know he hid the key in a false rock. I was braced for a mess, maybe some porn or something (hey, he was a divorced single father, I'm not going to judge) but instead it was like a loving prepper barn or something - weapons, tools, maps, radio gear, and strangest of all a library. Old, weird books in sealed cases to keep water out. Handwritten poo poo, things in Latin and Greek and other languages I don't even recognize, let alone read. And a journal. His journal. At first I thought he was a quiet small town dad playing at being a real cop. Then I thought he was maybe a serial killer? The journal was all about 'targets' and 'surveillance' and...monsters. With photos of them. Some of them looked pretty normal, for Hellmouth folk. Some of them...didn't. So now I have to figure out what to do with a secret stash of weapons and books and the knowledge that monsters walk among us. Maybe if I work real hard, I can figure it out before I turn into a hero like my Dad. Lexi Dylan, the Chosen posted:
My least favorite place in the island...well, there's the Pete Dylan Memorial Pier. It's exactly the wrong way to remember Dad, a coat of garish paint and a brass plaque stuck to a piece of driftwood next to a jetty that only gets used by tourist boats. Some cousin of a council alderman got a pile of money for the design. Dad would have hated the waste of public money, so I hate it on his behalf. Kathy had to force me to attend the dedication ceremony. Even beyond it being a lovely memorial to a great dad, the place give me the creeps and I'm not sure why. Wow, what could be the worst thing I've ever experienced? Oh, other than that? Um...well, it's more weird than worst, but before the memorial ceremony I was going to go to the Mayor and complain. Only I put it off till the last minute for...reasons...and I sort of went at night. While a storm was coming in off the ocean. At high tide. Long story short I got to the Mayor's place and the front door was blown upon (by the wind?), water was everywhere and the place stank like fish. I heard raised voices, saw some strange silhouettes, and then...well, I ran away. Sorry it's not more gruesome, I guess. thatbastardken fucked around with this message at 09:38 on Aug 3, 2016 |
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Aug 2, 2016 06:45
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Sunny Sherman, the Mortal quote:*Flash* Hi! I'm Sunny Sherman and my life sucks! And, it's getting even worse! How, you might ask, is that possible, when for the last six years I've been being bounced between divorced parents living on opposite ends of the state, neither of whom actually want me as a child, but just want me to not be the other parent's? When You're trying to make friends, and hold down a steady boyfriend, but you keep getting dragged away whenever you've finally started to work something out? And even then, not being entirely sure you actually want a boyfriend, but not having anyone you can talk to about it because, remember, you don't actually know anyone because you keep moving? The answer is Elementary, my dear Watson! It's by about a year ago having one of those two parents die in a car accident, and despite knowing that they didn't love me, still being a broken up mess about it. And and going back to Mom for a year, where she made practically no effort to help me get over Dad dying, until about six months ago, when she started sending me to a psychologist. You know how in stories that either works right away, or it never helps the heroine, and in the end they have to find something inside of them, or ... whatever ... to get over it on their own? Well, that's crap, my psychologist - Dr. Marcia Malone - was great, I ended up with a massive crush on her, but it was a slow process. But the real thing here is I could actually talk to her. She let me talk through all the things that had been driving me crazy in my life, and try to reason things out, and she got me to take up photography as an outlet for my frustration, and as something to keep my mind occupied. So. Six months later, just when I'd really felt like I was over it, got myself back to the bright, cheerful 'Sunny' Sunny Sherman I used to be, right when I'd managed to make a couple friends, not a lot, four or five, and was even this close to asking out Caroline -she totally would have said yes!- is when my mom decides "Oh, I guess it isn't working, I'm going to send you to live with your Aunt for a year in 'HAL-muth'. It'll do you good, get somewhere new, fresh start, blah blah blah". God, I was so mad I could have spit fire! So that's how it gets worse! GOD I hate it here! There's NOTHING. It's some lovely dying town in a lovely dying state, and like, yeah Vancouver wasn't great and had basically no scene of any sort, but it was only a short drive from Portland, so at least I could visit a place that had things that actually happened... But here the only thing keeping me from going completely inside is the landscape. It's incredibly pretty here. I spent most of the summer out exploring and taking photos. There's a lot of pretty things to take pictures of, but a lot of weird things too. I've taken a couple photos of those too, like the forest of faces. Seeing a tree with a face isn't that weird, I saw lots of them around Vancouver. But seeing a lot in one place is really weird, and this bit of the forest had like... twenty or so, all in a clump. Most looked just like faces, one was screaming, two looked like they were kissing, and one looked like it was fighting with another. Creepy, right? Here, check out those pictures! Can you believe I never heard anyone talk about it? You'd think they would. Mortal posted:Name: Sunny Sherman 1. What’s your least favourite place on this island? I'd say my Aunt's house, but it isn't really true. She let me convert a room in the basement into a dark room so I can develop my photos, and I like my bedroom with the photo wall I've started putting together. The rest sucks though, because it really obviously feels like it's not my space. Or... not a place I'm welcome. She isn't mean or anything, but she's busy with her work all the time - she recently got prompted to the head sheriff - and when she isn't working she tends to invite a bunch of adults I don't know over to hang out and talk and do... dunno book circles or something? So I always feel like I'm intruding if I'm around when anyone else is. It sucks. So I'd say my real least favorite place is the small town church. Aunt Desi (Sheriff Sherman, remember) makes me go every sunday morning because of course she does, why wouldn't she make me go to church? I never liked going much with Mom or Dad either, but it wasn't nearly so bad. The pastors didn't preach about gay people being the spawn of the devil and I wasn't really sure I was then either, so it didn't bother me much. But even putting that aside, this place just feels wrong. Even when I didn't want to be in church, back home -either home- it felt like ... it's kind of tricky to put into words. Like a calm spot... A place you could go to in a storm? But here, it's the opposite. I always feel like something is closing in on me, something dangerous. I don't get it, but it freaks me out and makes me even more on edge than I would have been anyway. 2. What’s the worst or strangest thing that you’ve seen or experienced on this island? It isn't the sitting in a church that makes me feel sick while someone was telling the community I was doomed to burn in hell, or the creepy forest of screaming trees. The absolute worst I've felt since I came here was actually the first thing I felt as I came here. I was on the deck of the ferry on the approach, taking some photos of the water and the birds, the island approaching. And then all at once, the sky seemed to tint red, the air got thick, humid and fetid, like... it tasted like the air did when I found a dead raccoon trapped under our deck when I was kid. I heard... a drum beat, or a heart beat, pounding in my ears instead of the sound of waves. I threw up over the side into the water, and then I looked up at the island and... I guess I fainted, I don't remember anything else until we were almost there, and I could hear Aunt Desi calling for me. I was on the deck like before, and everything seemed normal. But... ... I don't know. I just feel like there should be a but there. Something missing. GodFish fucked around with this message at 06:05 on Aug 3, 2016 |
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Aug 2, 2016 08:48
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I'm holding off on questions for applications until they've got at least a completed backstory section; I'll post up question 1 for those when that's completed, so I have more to work off of. Lexi, the Chosen, Question 1 Not all of the files your father had on "monsters" were resolved. Which of the open ones upset you the most? What are you going to have to do about it? Riley, the Infernal, Question 1 Which favour that you've asked of the Deep has turned out the best for you, and who did it hurt in the process? Sapphire, the Selkie, Question 2 What's the thing that you miss the least about home, and why does not missing it make you uncomfortable? Spencer, the Ghost, Question 1 You hate someone in your class. Why do they remind you of the way you died?
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Aug 2, 2016 16:54
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Gazetteer posted:Riley, the Infernal, Question 1 Well, it mostly just empowers me, makes it like I can do no wrong as long as I just go with the flow. But then sometimes it pulls out the big guns. Like when Deborah was waving her new iPhone around during lunch. Not like it gets much better reception than anything else but I guess she felt like she had to remind people she's better than everyone else, just cause she's the mayor's niece. Gimme a break. That dumb phone probably costs more than Dad pays for rent but mostly it was just the principle of the thing, you know? So after school I walked up to her, just looked her in the eye and told her to give me the drat thing. Somehow I just knew she would. I could feel this melancholic swell and she must have felt the same pull, like a current just sweeping up any reasonable thoughts. She looked kinda dopey, like she had no idea what was going on, but she gave me her phone so I didn't really care. I heard later that week she just walked off one of the piers in the harbor, straight into the water. Rumors has it they pulled her out and carted her off straight to Bellevue, the mental institution on the mainland? But that's bullshit. I snuck past their house one night and I saw her staring out of the window. She probably just freaked out over the idea of giving something away for free. Serves her right, maybe she'll learn something from it.
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Aug 2, 2016 20:37
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 Keith Hunt, The Werewolf Once upon a time, there was an orphaned pup. His mom died soon after his birth and his dad ran off to chase another bitch. He was all alone in the cruel, cruel world. He lived off of scraps and pity from the harbor workers. Even getting to sleep inside every so often. The other ki- dogs all picked on this pup, called him weird, unwanted, a demon. And then one evening, as he was digging through a trash can, fighting to survive another night. He hadn't eaten in days. His senses were dulled to the point where he couldn't hear someone approach behind him. It wasn't until he was shoved to the ground did he noticed he wasn't alone. "You're the fucker that's been going through the garbage." The dog that attacked him said. As the dog prepared another attack, the pup's body felt like it was on fire. Pain surged out in all directions. He screamed and yelled the few words he knew, letting out howls as the pain intensified and spread. The pup blacked out from the pain. When he woke, he was freezing, covered in what smelled like blood, and deep in the forest. It was still night but he could see everything clearly. "I've been watching you for some time child." A voice spoke, "We all have." The pup looked around only to find that he was surrounded by wolves. He could hear talking all around him: "That's really his son?", "This is why we don't mix blood.", "Poor kid.". He wanted to run but even the thought of moving sent jolts of pain through his body. All he could do was watch and listen. A wolf moved forward and spoke, "You've finally awoken, son of Ulric. The Mother called to you and you called back." The wolf looked up toward the moon the wolf smiled and said, "You're one of us". There were growls of unrest from crowd. "One of us?" A voice called. "Child of Ulric or not, he's half-blood. We should put him out of his misery." For some reason, the boy's heart sank. Even the wolves didn't want him. Maybe the dogs were right, he was unwanted. "Silence!" yelled the leader. The crowd went mute with a meek voice saying, "Sorry, Den Mother". The Den Mother spoke again, "We take care of all of our own. Your circumstances are unusual but not of your own design. We needed to be sure before we took you in but you proved you are one of us." Knowing he wasn't in danger, the boy smiled and passed out once more. It's been years since that day the boy discovered he was a wolf and joined the pack. He lived out in the forest with the pack. He learned all he could about anything the pack would teach him. But they would not speak about that night or about his father. He was only told that if The Mother calls, that he will call back. One day, the Den Mother approached him a folder full of papers. "You knew this day was coming. The time to prove that you are strong enough to survive in the world." He did know this day was coming. It was delayed to have him complete his education but he knew he would have to leave. One can't stay a child forever. He decided to go back to Hellmouth. Not far but far enough that he couldn't easily run home with his tail between his legs. And, it was the final resting place of his birth mother. That was a year ago. The wolf still lives here in a small house close to the city limits. He works as a mover to get the money to survive. Lots of moving out of Hellmouth. When The Mother calls, he haunts the streets and woods to challenge all that dare to control him. He even puts himself in bad situations to make the most of the hunt. Such as angering a small gang in Carlspoint and hunting them down when the wolf came. So, watch where you are when you hear the wolf's call. quote:1. What’s your least favorite place on this island? quote:2. What’s the worst or strangest thing that you’ve seen or experienced on this island? quote:Name: Kieth Hunt BallisticClipboard fucked around with this message at 07:19 on Aug 5, 2016 |
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Aug 2, 2016 23:13
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Gazetteer posted:Spencer, the Ghost, Question 1 Her name's Dakota Bright, and she had mononucleosis for most of the summer. Everyone's been fawning over her since she got back to school, talking about how brave she was, how scared she must have been, how nice it is to see her well again, and she just smiles and agrees. She talks a lot about her fight. I looked up mononucleosis at the library, and it's bullshit, it's just bullshit. So she was tired for a few weeks? Who even cares? She can talk about a "fight" when she spends days on end in the bathroom, throwing up brackish water that feels like needles coming up, heaving so hard that all the blood vessels in her face break and the whites of her eyes go red, while her dad rubs her back and says "that's it, sport, get it all out" and her mom says "hospital again?" in that same tired voice, but she doesn't want the hospital and she doesn't want it out, she just wants to eat something that doesn't make her feel like there's a red-hot needle-mouthed worm trying to burrow into her guts. She can fight that all she wants. I tried, and I lost. The night before I died, Pastor Greene gave me a lecture. He told me it was time for me to start "doing my share," because "those who don't embrace their miracle are forsaken in the light of the Lord and His sacred waters." What does that even mean? What was I supposed to do? I couldn't even get out of bed most of the time anymore. I did what they told me to do, let them pick me up and carry me to the Sacred Chamber, ate the fish stew they gave me when it was time to break the fast... what more did they want from me? I think Pastor Greene could see me thinking that, because then he talked about how fighting for healing is a battle you wage in your heart, and the Lord carries the chalice if you carry the sword. Before I fell asleep that night, it was all I could think of: this fight I was supposed to be waging, this warrior I was supposed to be just to live. And then I died, and I guess that made me a loser forever. gently caress the fight. It's all bullshit people like the doctors and the nurses and Pastor Greene tell themselves when someone died. "It's their fault. We tried. The Lord tried. They failed." gently caress them all. You know, when I was sick, nobody ever looked at me like the kids in class look at Dakota Bright, that look of so happy you're well and we're glad you're alive? Not even Mom and Dad. A few nurses were nice, maybe, but most people just looked at me like a disappointment, or a burden, or a science project. Something they just had to deal with. Not even a person. There were a few times my dad just... his eyes, just... What does Dakota Bright deserve that I don't? Why does she get all that love when I never got anything, and I suffered so long, and I died in a room alone thinking about how God was going to forsake me? Why does she get to be the big hero and I'm just a stupid loser that nobody ever loved anyway? Goddammit, gently caress Dakota Bright. I... I don't like swearing, I don't like hating people, but... I hope she gets to suffer, and lose, and die. I hope she understands.
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Aug 3, 2016 02:23
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Gazetteer posted:Lexi, the Chosen, Question 1 Files is kind of a generous way of describing the mass of papers he kept. I've been slowly organizing them myself, and the trend that bugs me the most is what I'm calling 'sea people' for the moment. It's not an individual creature, or even one type as far as I can tell. But things have been coming out of the sea and taking people or interfering in their lives for a long time - Dad has...or had, rather, records going back to early European settlement talking about them. Priests and watchmen and other sheriffs, a smuggler or two, people who notice things. They made alarmed journal entries and sent requests for help that never made it to the mainland or got ignored. Whatever the sea people are they clearly have help inside Hellmouth. It's frightening to think some group of monsters has enough sway to be able to mess with our political system, to be able to take people at will for whatever reason. Not anymore. It stops with me. Somehow. If I can just figure out the patterns, find their helpers on land, then I can weaken them. It might be a cult, or a family group, or something. Maybe they have brainwashed servants. I start there, turn or trap or...or stop the first link in the chain. I can't exactly go hunting underwater and expect to succeed, but if I can force the sea people to come to me on my terms, then I can...well, do something. God, I'm scared. Best case here I'm going to have to kill someone. Worst case... How the hell did Dad stay sane doing this for years? The other problem is the missing persons file. Because most of the people who Dad has listed as missing are around my age...and some of them are still going to school with me. So if they were missing, where did they go? Why did they come back? Are they still the same person? I'm not going to do much except keep watching them. Maybe this will be the key? thatbastardken fucked around with this message at 09:43 on Aug 3, 2016 |
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Aug 3, 2016 03:31
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Gazetteer posted:2. What’s the worst or strangest thing that you’ve seen or experienced on this island? The lighthouse is on the eastern side, facing the ocean, right? Except early last month, you remember that time it was super foggy all day and they canceled the ferry over to the mainland? Well, I felt like taking a walk. We live inland a bit, and as I came down towards the docks, I was struck by how quiet everything was. I still couldn't see much with the fog and all, but I was expecting to hear something besides birds chirping. Anyway, as I get to the docks, a blinding light comes out of the fog, spinning round like a lighthouse. It was a lighthouse. Just on the wrong side of the island. I know I wasn't lost, because all the buildings were there where they should be, just locked up and closed. Some of them looked like they'd been locked up for months, but I knew they were open just yesterday. I went back home in a hurry and spent the rest of the day watching House of Cards on Netflix. The next time I went out, no lighthouse, no locked up stores, and nobody else was talking about it. So of course I kept my mouth loving shut.
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Aug 3, 2016 05:57
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quote:2. What’s the worst or strangest thing that you’ve seen or experienced on this island? I wanted to see him splayed out on the road there, broken wings searching in vain for flight... Sometimes I feel like the bird, and sometimes I feel like the truck. Gazetteer posted:Clair the Ghoul, Question 1 Her parents own the local Bay Burger franchise. If she'd worked an honest day in her life, it was on the softball field. I decided to give her a wake-up call one Saturday night. She was working the drive-thru with her 'friend' Todd Wernfeldt cooking orders between make-out sessions. The difference between them is Todd needed the job; his parents were victims of the fishing bubble moments too late. The fryers unexpectedly caught fire and I called (in a voice modulator) to say, "Do mommy and daddy know you're loving below your pay grade?" Bailey ran to the nearest exit, while Todd tried to put out the fire. Unfortunately, he forgot which substance works best for grease fires, and he accelerated the burn. His cries were not of fear, but of pain. While it's not entirely dissimilar, instead of the usual soothing sensation I usually feel, his voice shrieked in my head and wilted me. For a moment, it was like I was the one burning. I saw the two of them in the parking lot, after they called the fire department. Todd was restless as the EMT treated his burns. He recounted all the decisions that led to that moment: his exposure to Bailey, his application for the job, the night his dad sat him down and showed him the cost of living, the birthday when he yelled at his parents for not getting the right games... and bemoaning the idea of being born at all. I suppose I shed some tears through the pain. Bailey's fear was enough to keep me going, but Todd made me remember the gnawing, living a life of regrets... No more regrets. Just forward action from now on. If they can't be bothered to mourn for me, I won't satisfy their sorrows anymore. That's a promise. Double May Care fucked around with this message at 03:47 on Aug 4, 2016 |
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Aug 3, 2016 08:04
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  I've always been clever. That's not even bragging or anything, that's like... a statement of fact. I'm not gonna be falsely humble about it, I am quick on the uptake and oh my God am I so above this stupid high school drama everyone else is obsessed with. They're thinking so small, and do you know what it's like to be surrounded by a bunch of narcissistic, self-obsessed idiots every day in class? Every day on this stupid island? It's hilarious! I totally love it! Hahahaha! So, to catch you up, born about seventeen years ago to hippy parents. I mean, my least name is Rainwater which really made life easy for me when it came time for kids to assign nicknames. Between having to shoot back retorts for that, and having three older siblings who were all bigger than me, it's no wonder that I'm like, incredibly good at lying hahahaha. Seriously, lying is like... ninety-five percent of what I do. You gotta be creative and smart and witty, and it all comes naturally to me. There's just something so satisfying about knowing things other people don't, but more than that... a couple careful words, and I can create new worlds. I'm basically an artist. I've done well in school - duh - and got in trouble all the time - also duh - this part's kinda boring so I'm hitting fast forward, you can just deal with that hahahaha. Anyways, the day I turned thirteen, I had a dream after my party. It'd taken sooo much effort, but I'd managed to blackmail my older brother Ryan into hooking me and my friends up with some weed. Any idea how hard weed is to come by in this stupid town? You gotta cross the ferry to Carlsburg, bare minimum, since that's where the only dealers live, hahahahaha yeah pretend I don't know that. Anyways I had like, a spiritual journey laying on my beanbag - my parents were out of town on a vision quest, Ryan was in charge - and I dreamed of the woods I always walk through after school. Guess it was destiny or something.  Oh poo poo, I skipped that plot point. Anyways, I love to take walks. You know, it's soothing, gives you time to center yourself, and most importantly gives you time to really think. It's when I come up with my best plans. That and the shower. Secondly, there's this cool park near our house, with this big old playground in the middle of it. Think I'm the only one that ever goes to it and it's obviously super seventies, and even better the paint's all faded and a swing-set has completely ivy'd over, its amazing. Its definitely my favorite place to walk, was at the time, and it's like no one else even knows it exists. I was always the only one that ever went there, but who cares - it was always my last stop before getting home, and a great place to hide out when I piss people off, hahahahaha! Anyways, that dream I mentioned? I wasn't alone there for once. There was a skinny guy with a goatee and a cowboy hat and a really obnoxious grin, but half the time he was literally a Coyote. It was weird but a dream, so I rolled with it. He asked if I wanted to take a walk, and I said yeah that sounds cool. I mean why wouldn't I? Dreams couldn't hurt me, I was stoned, it was my birthday, and something about his smile? It was the way I smiled, the same exact way I do. I trusted him hahaha. We walked a while, and talked, and laughed together. To be honest I thought he was kinda a jerk at first. He asked me about myself right out the gate, and I started talking about school and classes and my hobbies and he kept making fun of me, talking about how little all that mattered and making jokes about the things I cared about. I got made and tried some of my best insults but that coyote-guy was lightning-quick on the comebacks, and the thing was, he wasn't really being a dick about any of it. I mean, we walked for hours and I never hit him, but I did feel like it a few times. Mostly I just realized that like... smart as I was? I'd let some petty poo poo blind me. My life was hilarious, but at least I was in on the joke now! And I could fix it! What's more, I could share Coyote's wisdom. That or trick them so I could laugh at their misfortune. Both are good hahahahaha. Plus I'm like ninety five percent certain he's actually my dad, since he mentioned that a few times but that's not exactly a guarantee with somebody like him hahaha. Sadly not even the cleverest kid on the island can outsmart everything. For example, being stuck in Hellmouth. I'm seventeen! I should be allowed to move somewhere, literally anywhere, else! This town is garbage and I'm slowly exhausting my supply of practical jokes, I have to keep topping myself and it's getting frustrating. No one here appreciates my brilliance, but how could I expect them to - half the assholes that live in this town are the same jerks that've judged me throughout the years, told everybody I'm weird and that I laugh too much. Well the jokes on them - I'm the child of a trickster God, and it's time I start enjoying myself! quote:Name: Kailey Rainwater quote:1. What’s your least favourite place on this island?  Brewster's General Shop WOW do I HATE this place! See, Hellmouth's crazy small - there's very few stores here, and definitely not any cool ones. Easily one of the worst - and obviously via Karmic law most essential - shops is Brewster's. It's got basically some of everything, especially what you need at the time it often seems, and its seemingly always crowded even when you wouldn't think it'd be. Problem is they're so drat insistent on so very many different rules - and since everyone knows everyone on this dumb island, all of my infractions here have slowly been recorded by the entirety of its staff over time. Suffice it to say I've caused some problems, maybe even thrown tantrums when I was younger and pulled pranks the last couple years, and yeah I'm basically banned from the store at this point. Which can suck, since I think I may actually be the only person throughout the entirety of Hellmouth that's not allowed inside - and even if I do manage to talk my way in, all the employees keep a careful eye on me the whole time. It makes it so hard to pull pranks, so it's quite annoying hahaha - that makes sense to you right? Or do you need me to talk slower? quote:2. What’s the  Coyote, Trickster God / Deadbeat Dad Uhhhh, I'm apparently the child of a canine shapeshifting trickster God? Guess it explains why I can be such a bitch sometimes hahahahaha. Seriously though, yeah - my dad's not my dad, my dad's actually a native american trickster spirit and magic is real and so are Gods. Uhhhh, yeah, that was an awful lot to take in at once! Hasn't made life at home easier though, or while I'm out and about throughout Hellmouth. See, my dad actually used to be my favorite parent. This town's pretty small overall, but it needs a mailman, and that's him - and I always loved how gregarious was about it. I even used to think I got it from him, but yeah guess not right? It's kinda bummed me out for the last couple years whenever I think about it, so I totally never do! Still can't help but think that even with as clever as I've been about things that he's started to notice something's up though. What the hell am I supposed to tell him? Guess I'll think of something hahahahaha. And like, like I said - not even all my problems. See Coyote's decided to be a hands on parent - for a day or two every couple weeks - and he's always offering up advice when I "encounter" him in the woods, by which I mean I know he can alter the geography of this place to guarantee we cross paths. The advice even seems good, and like... probably seventy five percent of it is. But some of it's bullshit, and he knows it, and it's literally designed to get me to be least naive but like, I'm still dealing with having a loving four legged god-dad - I don't need him to sabotage my social life and then laugh about it, like he did a couple years ago. Basically, my life's loving complicated, but it's funny too hahahaha! Rauri fucked around with this message at 08:34 on Aug 3, 2016 |
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Aug 3, 2016 08:30
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Gazetteer posted:Nathaniel the Angel, Question 1 The thing about this cover is that it's just me. No family, fake or otherwise. Of course no one knows that. People will think I have parents or whatever, it's just that they haven't seen them in a while. I live by myself in a fairly cheap apartment and there's been enough rent paid for the next couple of months. If I need to I can probably get some more money. As much as I hate to admit it, it feels bad not having anyone. Back home there were a lot of people and I didn't know what it would be like to be so alone. That might be bad enough, but Mr. Petrov is putting me in danger of compromising this cover. He's the new guidance counselor, some idiot who thinks that because he's one of the younger people on staff he can connect to the kids and "hip" or whatever. He brought me into his office and talked about how I seemed to not have any friends and about how I'm not doing so great in my classes. I tried to blow him off but he wouldn't stop. Now he's started leaving messages for the parents I'm supposed to have, and I think I can only just delete them or tell him they're not available for so long. Problem is, I don't know what I'm going to do if he finds out.
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Aug 3, 2016 09:22
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 Darya Sokolov, the Eldritch This town used to be something. And I don't mean that pissant fishery plant. Though that is another part of the town faded away. No, this was the site of great and terrible things. A legacy of portent you'd never be aware of by seeing this hollow town. The elders first made contact with the people. Though there really isn't any traces of the natives anymore. The oldest bloodlines all moved inland. The elders made allies with the new locals. To rebuild their great work to expend their influence beyond the waves. The hope that the old blood would set ground work for the new blood was in vain. The more diluted the blood, the more the great work was forgotten. The legacy of the elders just... faded away. Like everything else, eventually. It's all just falling apart. At different speeds, though. These towns are having their pained gasps under late stage capitalism. And the whole thing will implode one way or another like the other Union. They tried a different economic method. But nothing escapes entropy. Well, even ravaged by time some legacy of everything remains. Even if it's just a cautionary memory. The elders left slightly more than that. The Sokolov are the last of the blood here. Maybe the elders found a new place to attempt the great work. They certainly have given up on here. My blood is diluted enough that I seem perfectly normal. My parents haven't developed the hellmouth look. I don't expect to either. No reason to keep the blood line pure. I'm not fond of my cousins anyway. So, all my heritage has given me is an unique insight of just how much the town has fallen. It would be enough to prevent one from getting out of bed in the morning, but wallowing in self pity would be equally pointless. So I go through the motions. Go to school, socialize, and indulge. Cast the die and see if something interesting comes my way. After all things are being built up fast enough to offset the constant crumbling. I might find and opportunity in this ash heap of a town, even if it only ends up being a ticket out of here. Though it may have already come. I have made a habit of hanging out in a cove that used to be a shrine to the elders. All the traces of the shrine are gone now of course. But I like to meditate and soak in the atmosphere. I like the ocean air and sounds. And being at a symbol of all the prestige and import my family has lost helps me focus and clear my mind of trifling concerns. But, one day something happened. I felt anxious and light headed during my meditation. I had visions of runes lighting up along the cove walls along with whispers of a tongue I had never heard. A great wave crashed into the cove and knocked me out of my trace. I haven't been back since. I plan to, of course. I just still a little shaken by having something happen that wasn't banal drudgery, of course. quote:Stoic, Piercing Eyes
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Aug 3, 2016 13:05
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First time playing Monsterhearts and also PbP, so let me know if I've done something wrong/I should fix anything. Kind of wanted to take a stab at MH. I've read pretty much every MH thread here if that helps any. (source) Vladimir Andreevich Wrangel, Rightful 3rd Baron Wrangel, 1st Baron Hellsmouth My name is Vladimir Andreevich Wrangel, and I have been 16 for the last 350 years. Approximately. I was asleep for much of it, so who knows how long I've actually lived. Immaterial. By the rightful laws of the Vampires, I name myself your rightful lord and master. Feel free to bow. Why am I Baron of Hellsmouth? Because I stake my claim to it, and will defend my claim against all comers. Oh, why am I Baron of Hellsmouth in particular? That's a story. Of my life before I was a vampire, I remember nothing. I presume I lived as any sixteen year old of the time did. My earliest memories are my awaking before my sire, Baron Andrei Ilyich Wrangel, the 2nd Baron Wrangel. He explained to me the rules - that the castle and town of Wrangel was my land, and I had the right to it's incomes and to feed off it's people and that they would respect that and leave their windows open at night. And in exchange I would protect Wrangel and it's people from others who would stake their claim to it. The overlordship of the Vampires is a light one compared to what else lurks in the woods of the Old Country. The town must always have it's Baron, he explained, but he had the wanderlust, and so sired me. He stayed just long enough to show me the ropes, as it were, before he left, and Wrangel was mine by the rightful laws of the Vampires. And so for 350 years I was the Baron. I spent much of those years sleeping, almost nine days in ten, and awoke to feed off my willing subjects in their sleep, or to do whatever I wished. I protected my patrimony from all comers - vampires, werewolves, and worse that lurk in the woods in the Old Country, dark things from before there was writing to record of them, that sought to make Wrangel their subjects or food with no thought to farm or rule. It was not a particularly social life, but such are the weights of rule - perhaps that is why Andrei left. But I could not keep out the world forever. Some fool discovered valuable minerals below Wrangel, and before long the flow of money started. I had kept out foes mortal and immortal, and even the government did not notice when the commissars they sent to Wrangel went missing, but the allure of wealth is hard to resist. Soon enough, my subjects turned against me - windows shuttered at night, suspiciously new charms on their doors, and they would smear garlic on their necks before they slept to trick me when I bit, and the company men would keep on coming. I saw the writing on the wall, and fled before they paid a posse to stake me in my sleep - I hypnotised a man to take his train ticket into the capital, and hypnotised another their for a flight out, anywhere - anywhere but Wrangel. Which turned out to be Hellmouth. And so, here I found myself. Sure, it's not the nicest place in the world, but I intend to rebuild what I lost back in Wrangel. The rules are different here though - I have to blend in and can't move into the castle, but at the very least I have something to feed off. As for blending in, I've hypnotised a very nice couple (John and Elise Henderson, who work in the plant across the bay) into believing that they are my hosts, and that I'm an exchange student from the Old Country, attending school in America. Though I don't know why people believed an exchange student would come to Hellsmouth of all places, but I'm just thankful I learned English off the internet (what? We're not complete yokels. I had satellite installed in my castle) with my time before I had to flee. And its not as if I had a great many friends of my age in Wrangel - the complexities and vagueries of American school society is a mystery to me, I will admit. Privately. Still, I have people to feed off, and an island I can claim. Hellsmouth will be mine, if it's peasants know it or not. And when I wrench it from whatever power owns this island, my reign shall begin again, and this time, I have no intention of losing. Now bow before your Baron, and show me your neck. quote:Name: Vladimir Andreevich Wrangel quote:1. What’s your least favourite place on this island? There's the Hellmouth Gallery, run out Mike Byrne's house near Main Street. Really, it's just a few small rooms of his house converted to a gallery, and he's selling whatever paintings or sculptures he has at the time, but it's what passes for a gallery here apparently. I visited once, because honestly, just like Wrangel, Hellmouth is loving boring but here I don't have the luxury of being able to sleep for two weeks straight without someone noticing, and it was pretty uninteresting, but there's something about Mike that I don't like. It's probably the way he follows you around the gallery, grinning like you're the subject of some private joke that you aren't aware of - and it's not a joke you'll appreciate. Like he knows something you don't, and he knows that it's something you'd want to know. I'm... unused to being stared at like that. Given that most of the island is just dull rather than dull and kind of unpleasant, Hellmouth Gallery is probably my least favourite place. quote:2. What’s the worst or strangest thing that you’ve seen or experienced on this island? Back in the Old Country, you could occasionally (if you were looking) see the Rusalka, water spirits in the rivers and lakes. They were fairly harmless things - mostly they left everyone alone and we left them alone - unless you bothered them. I can see them occasionally here, in the sea, as waves crest out in the bay. I never thought that you could even find them in salt water, though I've never looked, but apparently they're here in Hellmouth. And worse still, unlike the Rusalka and Vodyanoi of the Old Country (which were always fairly placid and peaceful), these look angry. I don't think I like them much. MinistryofLard fucked around with this message at 13:44 on Aug 3, 2016 |
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Aug 3, 2016 13:35
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 People keep telling me I'm lucky. Like it's good luck for me to be around, like I make people do better just by being there. But I don't feel lucky. Dad's an alcoholic; lost his job in the recession, turned to drink after. Mom skipped town while I was barely old enough to remember her. Haven't seen her since. This town's rotting, and everyone with a future's moving anywhere else, but I'm lucky, I guess, because Billy followed my advice to just ask his crush out and it worked; or because I cheered for Liam and he scored a game-winning three pointer at the high school's basketball finals. One thing leads to another, and people just like being... around me, you know? I don't know that I deserve the way people feel about me, but it's not like I'm going anywhere. So instead of just moping and being like my dad, or running away from things like my mom, I guess I should try to embrace it? Maybe if I'm 'lucky' enough, it will make a difference? Maybe this rotting town will get better, for a change? I don't know - I'm just doing the best I can. quote:Name Andrew Davies 1. What’s your least favourite place on this island? The Steelworks. It's where my dad worked before the struggling business closed down completely. Now the abandoned plant's used for like, raves and poo poo? But I can't stand that. It's everything wrong with this place - good honest work gone, turned to people trying to escape. 2. What’s the worst or strangest thing that you’ve seen or experienced on this island? Okay... so this one time, I had a crazy daydream in the middle of class. None of it made sense, it was like... this freaky mix of symbols, numbers, chanting, and it actually hurt to focus on anything for too long. I was freaked out when I came back to my senses... and even more freaked out when I noticed a couple of other people in my class were freaked out too. Like I could tell they'd seen the same thing, and after class we talked about it, and even though it was a little different for everyone, there was no mistaking it. We'd had the same experience, out of nowhere. Still can't explain it...
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Aug 3, 2016 22:21
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added some terrible fluff to my app.
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Aug 4, 2016 01:46
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Andrew, the Unicorn, Question 1: Someone keeps refusing your help and advice no matter how earnestly you offer it. Why do you keep trying with them? Anne, the Fae, Question 2: Out of your “imaginary friends”, which of them did you always sort of wish would leave you alone? What's one thing they do that's gone from annoying to worrisome lately? Clair, the Ghoul, Question 2: Which teacher do you think might be onto you? How did you gently caress up and let that happen? Darya, the Eldritch, Question 1: Who always makes you feel inferior despite all that you know? Kailey, the Coyote, Question 1: You tricked someone a while back, and they have it out for you. Who was it, and what did you do to make them as mad as they are? Keith, the Werewolf, Question 1: Who has been challenging your dominance since you started school, and why do they actually sort of scare you? Lexi, the Chosen, Question 2: After that one time (you know the one), do you ever wonder if all of these monsters actually deserve to be hunted? Are all of them doing something wrong? Nathaniel, the Angel, Question 2: What moment made you feel like coming to earth like this was a bad idea? Rhian, the Witch, Question 1: You messed up a spell casting really badly -- you meant to teach someone a lesson, but not this much of a lesson. You can’t seem to cancel it or make it stop! What did you do and who did you do it to? Riley, the Infernal, Question 2: Tell me about that time that your newfound abilities completely backfired on you. Spencer, the Ghost, Question 2: What's so unsettling about the other ghost you've met on island? Sunny, the Mortal, Question 1: You have managed to make one friend, at least, since coming here. Who are they, and why do you have mixed feelings about them? Vladimir, the Vampire, Question 1: Who have you been feeding from most often, and why are you starting to feel like this was a mistake?
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Aug 4, 2016 03:08
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Gazetteer posted:Lexi, the Chosen, Question 2: How did you find out about that? I was so careful to cover my tracks, I deleted the photos afterwards and everything! And it's not like I didn't have a good reason to be there, the whole thing was really suspicious! Uh... Look, that sounds bad, lemme explain. When I was getting started I was a bit...jumpy. Seeing monsters in every shadow. Terrified that the abyss was looking back at me. And I didn't have a system for prioritizing what leads I was chasing. So when I saw that Dad had a file on Mr and Mrs Guthrie, who lived across the road from us and used to babysit me after Mum left I freaked a bit. They were old and seemed super harmless, Mr Guthrie died of a heart attack like two years before Dad, and Mrs G. was never quite the same. But the file talked about the pair of them, like he was still alive and under observation. I started trailing Mrs G. for a bit, and one night she went for a late walk to the park by Scald Lake, sat down at a bench alone and then her dead husband was sitting next to her in the moonlight. I wasn't close enough to hear what they were saying, but when she at where I was hiding in the bushes I panicked and took a photo with my phone. The flash and the noise must have...disturbed him? He vanished, and she just looked at me like she was really disappointed. After that, she moved out of their old house to a retirement village on the east coast of the island and we haven't spoken about it. So deserve is kind of a loaded term, y'know? Context is important. Mrs G just wanted to see her husband again. Mr G, I don't even know if he was aware he existed or if he was just a shadow. But raising the dead is wrong, I can feel it in my bones. And it's never just the one thing, there are loads of records in the older books about what necromancy requires the 'witch' to do. Spoilers: bad poo poo. Mrs G didn't have to take her cats with her when she moved. What if she wanted to do more than just sit on a park bench with a memory of her husband? The more you want to defy death, the greater the cost.
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Aug 4, 2016 03:49
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