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Sincerest Apologies and Bright Promises
Mon Oct 28, 2013 11:18 pm by SoraAngel


Dear Residents of this vast underworld,


How is everyone? May Hades smile down upon you all. He is most certainly not smiling down at me at this moment. But …


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 Dark Requiem | Role-Play

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SoraAngel
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PostSubject: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Sun Feb 24, 2013 12:04 am



"It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more."
~ Albus Dumbledore



What if... the sun stopped shining? What if the Earth was doomed to fall and drown in darkness... forever?

Story
It's the year 2022. Life is bearable for some, torturous for others. Some live their lives in happiness, while others have sunk in regret and sorrow. It's a normal world. A world exactly like ours. Forever changing. Forever the same.

Until the sun turns off.

It happens suddenly, unexpectedly. One moment it's a normal afternoon, and suddenly, without a moment's warning, everything goes black. Pitch-black.
Screaming. Everyone is screaming. Children are crying. There's a sound of a loud crash before the sun flickers back on. Everyone stares in horror at the overturned, flaming cars that have inexplicably crashed into each other, their drivers trying desperately to escape. People scramble away from it before a loud explosion rocks the Earth. The cars have been reduced to black, charred... things. Blood splatters the windshields of nearby cars. A lone boy cries beside the ruins.

Everyone is silent.

It's not long before every T.V. station, every radio program, is broadcasting news about the sun. Everyone is advised to stock up on food and remain inside. Scientists are trying to figure out the problem, say the news reporters, everything will be fine, they say.

They're wrong.

The blackouts increase. And increase. And increase. Scientists have countless theories. UV rays have weakened. Asteroids have slammed into the Sun, decreasing its plasma. Everyone is panicking. Oh no, the world is going to end.
In the midst of fear, no one realizes the mutilations. The sun has begun to emit different kinds of rays. When the scientists realize what's happening, it's too late. The new rays are even more poisonous to the skin than ultraviolet rays. Everyone begins to call them the Dark rays. People get infected, and only a few months later, a quarter of the Earth's population has been complete wiped out. Some who don't die, change... they lose their sense of morality, their skin black and oily, feasting on other humans. And the death toll is increasing.
But some are unaffected. For reasons unknown, they have developed an immunity to the D-Rays. Still, those who aren’t affected are scarce. One in five million people, approximately, are immune. And every day the dark period lasts longer.

Hell seems to be drawing near.

The sun - a raging ball of fire - shines brighter than ever. The few remaining survivors stare up at the Sun through bolted windows, hope kindling. The days begin to even themselves out: Night and day each as long as they used to be. That day one last television broadcast is made before the cable goes out for good.

"A scientific base and Sanctuary has been constructed in the building prior known as the White House. This is out last resort to find a way to wipe out the Black creatures—the Tenebrai—and stop the D-rays for good. Until then, everyone is advised to stay inside.
I repeat: everyone is advised to STAY INSIDE. Do not attempt to escape. I repeat, DO NOT—”

The T.V. screen goes blank.



You are one of the few survivors in the New World. For some reason, the Dark Rays do not affect you like they have affected so many others. You've lost your family. friends, everyone you loved. Memories of them haunt you every night. Your dreams are only nightmares.

For almost a year now, you’ve survived, and now your supply has finally run out. You’ve seen the broadcast. You know your only choice is to get to Washington D.C. - the only place that is safe now. And just like that, the decision is final. You will escape these walls. You will be free. And no one will stand in your way.

No one, of course, except the Tenebrai.

But you're smart. You've learnt that these oily creatures only come out during the dark. It seems the sun still has a bad effect on them. You know how hard it will be to survive, to be able to reach Sanctuary. You'll have to travel by day and spend your nights in the abandoned houses littered across the streets. You'll have to be ready for Flickering. It'll be dangerous. But you have no choice.

You have to try.



Terms

Asylians
A common word used to refer to those who are immune.
Note: immune does not mean complete immunity.
After five hours of direct contact with the sun,
even Asylians are in danger of turning
- this fact was broadcasted by scientists before cable was disconnected.

Dark Day
Also known as D-Day (number two).
The day of the First Flicker.

Flickering
The act of flickering done by the sun; times when the sun shuts down;
moments of darkness at times of light.

Dark Rays
Or D-Rays; rays emitted by the sun that have the
power to transform humans into Tenebrai.



_________________________________________________________________________

"No matter where we are, our hearts will bring us together again."


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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Sun Feb 24, 2013 12:13 am




1. All Forum, Site Rules, and Guild Rules apply.
2. Violence and romance allowed, and somewhat encouraged, but keep it PG-15
3. No godmodding or perfect characters, please.
4. At least one post every two days, preferably a lot more.
5. No one liners: Each post needs to be at least five lines long, no exceptions.
6. Do not alter the story. I tried to keep the plot vague for that very reason.
7. Everyone controls the time of the day. Any RPer can talk about nightfall. However, I want it to be placed at regular intervals, at least every two to three pages. If I find a post about the sun rising or setting too quick, you'll have to edit the post. Same goes for the Tenebrai: all Rpers can control them.
8. Keep the story as realistic as possible.
9. Competition allowed.
10. You are allowed a maximum of two characters as long as they do not become each other's love interests/siblings.



"If the world is made of light and darkness... We'll be the darkness."
~ Riku, Kindom Hearts 2

Normals
Have been surviving, locked up in houses and leaving occasionally for food and other things. Have survival skils, but not very good fighters and don't have a lot of stamina.

1. The Bad-Tempered Older Sibling | Male | ZephyrSolace


2. The Soft-Hearted Younger Sibling | Female | Nightingale


3. The Bitter Introvert | Male | SoraAngel


4. The Artist in Denial | Female | SaKaira


Venturers
For specific reasons, they have grown on the streets and have learned how to fend off Tenebrai. They're quick on their feet and possess a lot of stamina.

1. The Curious Scientist | Male | Torilistic


2. The Brazen Mechanic | Female | Nightingale


3. The Eccentric Blue Knight | Male | SoraAngel


4. The Struggling Foreigner | Female | OurStars





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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Sun Feb 24, 2013 12:24 am




Starting Point

You are either in a him or safe location,
OR
You are a venturer moving from place to place through streets or other areas.
Watch out for Tenebrai in the shadows and the like.

There has been a recent
RADIO ANNOUNCEMENT all over Virginia that a "sanctuary" has been set up at the White House. Check "story" for details. Feel free to include reactions to this in first posts.

...........

Update

Setting:
Virginia, especially areas near D.C. Specifics are not needed.

Time
11 a.m.

Weather?
The skies are clear (it doesn't rain much anymore).
The sun bright as ever. It's a little breezy.
However, a Flicker could occur at any moment, so beware.

...........

Dark Requiem is now Open!
Let the fight for survival and search for purpose begin.




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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Sun Feb 24, 2013 1:15 am




Most people remain locked inside their homes, terrified of being infected by the beasts outside, who roam the streets at night and hold no resemblance to the human beings they once were. Most people, unfortunately, refers to perhaps half, if that much, of the previous population. They make up the ninety-eight, percent, while the leftover two either have nowhere to go, or believe they have a better chance of survival if they keep moving, not sitting ducks for those creatures. One such person, of the 'nowhere to go' category, currently sits on the roof of an old convenience store, by now completely trashed. She had stolen several nonperishable items from the store, though wouldn't consider it stealing as it has been abandoned for quite some time now. It has been two days since she stopped at this place, making a nice little room-like thing with several cardboard boxes, a knife, and a small blanket which she retrieved from an abandoned home. The young woman had gotten out of that home as soon as possible, finding it difficult to look at the state of what had once no doubt been a lovely home with a normal family.

Now, the girl sits outside of the little building, eating beef jerky and looking over a map. The map is in English, of course, but she is able to match up the letters, and memorization is all that is necessary to identify things on the map. They said the "Five House", right? she thinks to herself, getting the name wrong because there had been a lot of static on her radio. If she had properly heard White House, she may have at least identified it as a place in DC, but instead just assumed that is the house number, without any other specifics. Her English may be very poor, but she at least knows numbers and the word 'house'. Everything else she filled in with her translation book and guessing. What she had caught from the message was 'Stay' and 'Five House', as well as 'Tenebrai', the message jumbled up by the static and her own misunderstanding. The young woman looks back up at the sky, enjoying the sun while it is still out. She hopes that it will remain out today, and that there will therefore be no unexpected appearances of those strange creatures which are called Tenebrai.

If there is one, though, she has the metal rod which she found a few weeks ago as a weapon, and her own athleticism to continue fending off any attacks. She has been mostly staying in areas not accessible by staircases or ladders, finding her own ways up because she figures that Tenebrai probably do not have much in the way of climbing skills. Unfortunately, she can't exactly just go around jumping roofs all the way to this 'Five House', especially when many have different heights than the others, etc. So she sticks to the roads when travelling, as she plans to do once she has gathered her things and finished eating her beef jerky. Her 'things' consist of some food, three water bottles, some of the clothing she had brought with her to America, her metal rod, a pocket knife, and a pocket translation book. All of them are kept in a backpack that she had brought with her to America. Most of her clothing was left behind when she began travelling, as were other things she deemed unnecessary.
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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Sun Feb 24, 2013 1:53 am




Because in the end, every human being secretly wishes to die.

He started from the very back of his house in Leon's room. He leaned against the wall for a moment and closed his eyes, remembering. He never tried to block the memories because without them, he would most likely go insane. He thought of Leon laughing, grinning, frowning. Thought of him asking Charlie if he was OK. Memories, one after the other, of Leon being the good older brother who always looked out for him, but also let him find his own solutions. He remembered Leon scoffing at the idea of Charlie sleeping with him at nights when he'd had nightmares, and telling him to go back in bed. Like the many times before, Charlie did not smile at the memories. They had been ruined by the most recent one of Leon rampaging around the house and nearly strangling Charlie to death.

Slowly, he walked past Leon's bed - unused now, for obvious reasons - towards the door of his bedroom, and then out into the hall. He didn't bother looking in his own room as he walked past, or his parents bedroom to the left. He walked, as if he were a mere phantom, down the hall into the living room. The T.V. still lay on its side, the screen smashed to pieces. He spared the paintings on the walls a glance, remembering faintly how his mother used to gush over them every time she bought a new one. He looked at the clock on the wall and turned to the kitchen. He walked on.

The kitchen was the cleanest part of the house - probably because it was where he sat all day, staring at the opposite wall with just thoughts to accompany him. It might explain the decision he had reached. Then again, maybe it had been in his mind all along. He walked on.

He ran his hand over the tabletop where the last box of cereal now stood, empty of its contents. He stared at the open cupboards left open since the first day, when he'd nearly torn the house apart in an effort to get away from the boy he used to call brother. He glanced at the broken fourth wall behind the fridge, and the collapsed chair in the corner. Sighing once, he kept walking.

He stopped at the end of the kitchen and pulled open a drawer, pulling out Leon's lighter. He clicked it once. Then again, and a small flame came to being, sputtering slightly. It took him a few tries to turn on the stove. He left the gas open, and walked on.
He was at the front door now, and had to squint from the harsh light coming through the adjacent window. He reached out and opened the door. He didn't look back. Door still open, he flicked on the lighter and threw it over his shoulder. He closed the door.

And he kept walking.


_________________________________________________________________________

"No matter where we are, our hearts will bring us together again."
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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Sun Feb 24, 2013 7:26 pm


Primal instinct, bluffing, and a dash of luck. Those were the three main reasons why West was still alive and kicking. Then there was his younger sister, East, the only person left in his family. Taking care of her was another reason why he even bothered trying in life. West couldn’t bear to see the look on her face if he let her down in any way. To him, she wasn’t a liability at all. Yeah, they had the typical sibling rivalry at times, but they both loved each other to death. No matter the circumstances, nothing would ever change that.

West had woken up bright up and early to do a sweep of the large store. He peered out a window that wasn’t entirely boarded up, only to see the outside completely vacant; it was a ghost town. West sighed, retreating back and heading towards the electronics section, checking one of the few workable radios. That’s when he heard of the broadcast about Washington D.C. West didn’t catch the entire message, due to some static, and he feverishly tried to listen in as best as he could. A few tidbits he caught were “Scientific” and “Sanctuary” and “White House.” Something else about stopping the Tenebrai and D-Rays. West inhaled sharply and he nearly dropped the radio.

He couldn’t stay in Walmart forever. Eventually, the supplies were going to run out, and what would happen then? There weren’t any new shipments coming in, after all. West began searching the store, calling,"East!" He made sure not to skip any aisles. "I have something important to tell you."

_________________________________________________________________________


Thrown into the depths of Tartarus
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Root of all evil
Hear no evil...see no evil
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SaKaira
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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Sun Feb 24, 2013 7:43 pm



You'll be fine if you have a pencil.
Adel nodded to herself, and fluidly used the pencil to draw something. Anything. Anything but those dreaded monsters which filled her copies. She would use a pen but the pen seemed to permanent. A pencil was nice. Everything could be erased so easily, like it had never happened. Sometimes she wished life was like that too, but life was drawn or written in dark, unremovable pen. And there was no easy way of removing pen when it had done it's job.
Once again, she had drawn Coby. This time he had a carrot in his mouth, like most stereotypical bunnies did. Coby actually hated carrots, so she ate them. Though Adel ate the bare minimum daily, she was running out. Which meant she had to go outside, but that would never happen. The announcement of a sanctuary had gone ignored. She would perfectly safe in the little apartment. Nothing outside was real - it was all an illusion. If she didn't leave, she wouldn't get hurt. Besides, she had her pen, paper and Coby. Adel was perfectly fine. As if to remind herself, Adel got up and wrote "Safe" on the wall, in italics and in pen, so that way it would never be erased. She would be safe and happy in her own little kingdom, forever.


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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Sun Feb 24, 2013 9:30 pm




Marianna is just about to sink her teeth into the beef jerky when something slightly unusual catches her eye in the distance, just barely making it into her peripheral vision. The strip of dried meat remains held between her teeth as she turns to stare at the flickering in the distance, perhaps a mile away at the most, that is undeniably a fire. The young woman doubts that it will spread, but her muscles tense automatically. Is there anyone there? Are they okay? these thoughts then occur to her, and she is instantly shoving everything into her backpack as best she can, making sure to leave nothing important behind but also going as quickly as possible. It has become a mindless task at this point, aligning things together to perfectly fit the space, almost like a game of Tetris, with slightly less precise shapes. And, in this particular case, perhaps a bit shorter of a time limit. The red-haired foreigner slings her bag over both shoulders and grips her metal rod, walking over to the end of the building. It is actually two stories, because the old owner apparently lived upstairs, this having been a family owned little shop. Rather than going in through the home, because Marianna has grown suspicious of any unlit place during the daytime, she jumps down and angles the rod so that it becomes stuck between two windows, one belonging to the home and the other part of the building next to it. There isn't much space between the two, being a cramped part of town in general. The alleyway between the two is hardly more than two feet wide, and her rod measures approximately five. This allows her to stop at about seven feet above the ground before she twists the rod and lands lightly with it in her hands. She probably could have landed well without sustaining damage other than perhaps a slight pain, but decided to play it safe nonetheless. Carrying the long but light-weighted weapon, she begins to run down the street towards the fire.

I hope no one is hurt. Oh, god, I hope there were no children in that building. If a Tenebrai set fire to a building full of people- no, that's just jumping to worst possible scenarios. All the same, that is a residential area, I believe, she thinks, still running towards the fire, at 75% speed. This means it will take her around eight minutes to arrive, but she hopes that such a speed won't waste too much time. Her legs still hurt from a run in with a couple Tenebrai a day ago. It really hadn't been the best idea to propel herself with that shopping cart and knock them down with her leg, but the rod had rolled to the other side of the room and she hadn't thought it through as much as she probably should have. It worked, at least, even if her legs were a bit sore from it.

What she skids to a halt to see is rather bizarre: a boy, no older than she is, walking away from a house which is without-a-doubt creating a very impressive fire. Even Marianna can't help but freeze for a moment, surprised by the sight, and caught between thinking he looks like an action-hero and wondering why he had set the house ablaze. "Wat is er gebeurd?" she asks with a thick Belgian accent, before realizing that she probably needs to speak in English.

"Sorry? What's going on?" she asks, a question in her sorry in case she has used the wrong version of it. There are so many unnecessary words in the American language that all mean the same thing, after all.
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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Sun Feb 24, 2013 10:43 pm




And just when he was about to take away the breaths that meant nothing...

Something incoherent. Behind him, a girl's voice asked him something he couldn't understand. He stopped slowly, wondering if he was just imagining things - this was his first time out after a long time - but he heard it again, and this time he could understand what she was saying.

"Sorry? What's going on?" The words sounded strange, lidded with an accent he couldn't place. He turned around, his mind jumping into overdrive, but his words not yet leaving him. The girl was slender, with long red hair uncharacteristic of most Americans and green eyes that might even have resembled his. He couldn't know for sure, because he hadn't looked in a mirror for a long time.

Charlie tilted his head. It had to be unusual to meet another survivor, another Asylian, so early on. She had come here because of the fire? Did she think someone was in danger? Feeling slight admiration for the girl who had obviously swooped in for someone in need of saving (although his expression didn't show it) he finally broke the silence. "Nothing's wrong. No one needed that house anymore. You don't need to worry."

For a moment he considered talking to her more, maybe exchange a few last words so he would be remembered, but if Charlie was really honest with himself, he didn't care if he wasn't remembered. He probably didn't deserve something like that anyway. He thought of Leon, who should be remembered, but had lost himself because of his pathetic little brother.

He didn't say anything else. Charlie turned around again and stared towards the direction of his old school. It had only been two weeks - surely, it was still there. Yeah, it definitely was. He had already decided: That was where it would happen.

That was where he would end his own life.


_________________________________________________________________________

"No matter where we are, our hearts will bring us together again."
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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Sun Feb 24, 2013 10:47 pm



Allen was not amused. He had not eaten for two days now, was pretty sure fever was catching up to his tired body, had gotten his arm injured, and was running precariously low on Tenebrai blood for his silverware/only means of food and survival. Honestly, he was more than convinced that his situation truly couldn't get any worse when Stalker had come along. Alright, so the name was a bit ridiculous (why had he even bothered to name the fearful little ball of fur?) for a cat, but it had been following him all morning (and even before that, probably--he'd woken up to the thing a mere terrifying two feet from him), its blue eyes nailed to Allen as if he were a mouse, or a ball of yarn. Something to pounce on and slaughter, basically. "Shoo! Scat!" Allen murmured helplessly, clutching his precious backpack tightly as he tried to slowly ease away, but to no avail.

He didn't smell like fish, did he? No, he hadn't had any kind of seafood whatsoever for a long, long time now. Did a piece of his clothing resemble yarn or string? No, he was wearing a plain collared shirt with a faded vest over it, followed by baggy blue jeans and a pair of dirty white sneakers. So what was it about him that made the cat so interested? Allen hugged his backpack even tighter, "Okay, seriously? I have no food, no suspicious-looking things for you to murder, nothing!" Allen said, trying to sound angry, but coming off rather pathetic. "Go away, for god's sake!" he finished weakly, but Stalker wouldn't budge. He contemplated on running away; no, the cat would most likely be startled and one, run away or two, lunge at him and--and--attack him with those claws. He couldn't run for too long anyways--his head hurt, his skin was burning fervently, and each abrupt movement he made sent the houses swooping and powerlines swirling.

How long had he been under the sun? Five and a half hours, Allen guessed. He was immune, yes, and his body had once been subjected to painful experimentation by the APFWC, but his body could only stand, what, six or seven hours of direct sunlight before his skin grew dark and oily, and his mind lost all sense. And at this rate, what with his fever and hunger and the cat, Allen found himself panicking just a bit. I have one and a half hours to get out of the sun, he calculated hurriedly, and hopefully find some food at a nearby, ehm, Walmart or something, along with fever pills and some bandages for my arm. Well, my arm can wait. It's just a dull ache. I just need something to staunch the constant trickling of blood or else my shirt's done for...one and a half hours to get rid of this cat and find a store and get back inside a house.

As he thought frantically for a solution, something flickered in the corner of his eye. Red. "Great, I'm finally going crazy," Allen muttered to himself, though he found himself turning his head towards the direction of what he thought was a flash of red and orange even though he told himself he had imagined it, it wasn't real...Allen squinted, but before he could focus on whatever the flash had been...he saw another one, this one also red. It was much smaller, and much closer--only a few buildings away, even. Inbetween two buildings, in the tight gap, Allen saw what he could only faintly make out as hair. Bright, fire-engine red hair. His heart leaped with excitement and dread, and momentarily, Stalker was forgotten. A girl. She was hanging by what seemed to be a long stick, and with a twist, she dropped down to the ground before breaking into a run towards the first flash of red. A girl. A human. There was no doubt that the figure had been a human, and she had been running in the sun. Immune! She was immune!

"Oh, holy fudge cakes," Allen whispered hoarsely. When was the last time he'd seen another human that moved, that breathed? A split second decision flashed across Allen's mind. Stay or run and risk being mauled to death by Stalker, but also have the the chance to speak to somebody again, and to find out what the first flash of red had been. Easy, he thought shakily, and without a second thought, broke into a run, his head threatening to split open.

_________________________________________________________________________

(c)BellsChime
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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Sun Feb 24, 2013 10:49 pm



It was beautiful. A large, black spider with elegant legs quickly wove its web in the corner of a wall while East watched with fascinated eyes. She couldn't recall its name nor its scientific name, but she'd seen the same spider a week ago while she was eating. It had been trapped behind a book. It's a good thing I rescued the poor girl. East hesitated, then slowly took out a small black notebook that she had put on the ground next to her. She wondered if she'd have time to sketch it. Her pencil making the tiniest of noises, East began to quickly sketch one of its legs. Once I'm finished I'll have a pretty picture to show West. Just a little shading over-

"East!"

Startled, East nearly dropped her pencil when her brother's loud voice interrupted her thoughts. Oh, of all the times to call her! She hurriedly began to finish drawing the spider. "Just a second!" She cried, her hands moving quickly. Come on, move you lousy hand! She could hear West's feet clomping near her. Finally, with a resigned sigh, East slammed her notebook shut and struggled to her feet. She gave a longing look at the spider before scampering off down the School Supplies aisle. She peeked around the corner of it, just in time to see her brother bearing down on her.

"Yes?" East said timidly, brushing a lock of hair from her face.


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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Sun Feb 24, 2013 11:18 pm



Today was Sifting Day, or a.k.a., Let's-Look-Through-All-This-Crap-For-Materials-Day.
It was also the day that Red was supposed to be eating, and the day that she was supposed to have been gone by now. Yet, here she was, still hiding out in the junkyard. Mountains of piled up cars and other devices surrounded Red as she stomped her way through in her heavy combat boots. The boots contrasted sharply with her loose red dress, but its been a long time since she's cared about fashion. With one hand she carried a large bucket half-filled with broken parts, and in the other hand she held a chainsaw with red hastily painted over it. On her back was a ratty old backpack that made a jingle noise with every step. It was her own personal tool box.

For today, she needed to look for batteries. Any batteries would do, since she could always charge them up herself. But it's still a pain to do. This was a good day to start scavenging here, especially after that mysterious radio message a while ago, something about a safe house in the white house. Ha! That was a laugh. What's next, free food in New York? Shaking her head, Red finally came to a stop in front of a broken refrigerator. She took a moment to put on her work gloves before she finally threw the door open, revealing a family of rats. "Git! F*ck off you little bastards," Red exclaimed angrily, knocking them away with her hands. She hated rats. If they messed up the wires by chewing on them, she was going to fry them.

Red then began the dirty work of tearing the refrigerator apart, her bony arms straining as she struggled to pull off the door. God, if only she ate more. Her arms looked like skin and bones. Finally, the door came with a loud clang, making Red freeze for a moment.

"Now let's get to work," She muttered to herself.


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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Sun Feb 24, 2013 11:38 pm




For a moment, the boy before her stares at Marianna with an almost inquisitive look, and she worries that she has said it wrong. No, I could have sworn those were the right words. Wrong order? Is it my accent? I need to try and work on that, I guess. Could he understand me? but her questions are answered when he speaks up, responding precisely to the question that she had asked. "Nothing's wrong. No one needed that house anymore. You don't need to worry, he tells her, but the Belgian young woman only catches pieces of what he is saying. His tone is rather blank, as though he hasn't talked to anyone for a long time. Of course, neither has Marianna, but her voice is rather expressive from the beginning. She's never been the sort to hide things, blunt and impulsive as she is. Pressure may be the exception, but that is only from several years of practice under the strict tutelage of her coaches and father as they sculpted her to live their dreams. Anyway, what she gets from his assurance is basically 'Nothing. That house. You don't.' Saying that she speaks English would be rather kind, as she can only make out certain phrases and words, and usually only when spoken in the way she has been taught. The young woman may be multilingual, but that makes learning another language no less difficult. She holds up a hand as a signal for him to wait, and begins to fish her translation book out from the top of her bag.

However, when she looks back over again, the blond-haired young man has walked away from her without a word. Confused, she begins to walk after him, still trying to leaf through the notebook. Concentrated on him, she doesn't notice the boy following her until she looks over her shoulder to make sure that she properly closed her bag back up and spots him quickly making his way towards her. She looks back towards the blond boy before looking at the bespectacled one behind her, mentally torn over whether to speed up or slow down. In the end, she shouts out, "Wachten! Erm. . .stop?" to the boy in front of her, and slows down so that the one behind her can catch up. She hasn't seen people outside of their homes for weeks, and this strikes her as no less than completely bizarre, the appearance of two at once. It must be because of that radio message. They are all going to the Five House. Is this the right direction? The map. . .

She sighs and glances back to see that the boy with glasses is growing nearer, partially thanks to her slowed pace. Marianna raises a hand and waves with a cheerful smile, showing that she means no harm, despite the fact that her other hand is holding a large metal rod.
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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Mon Feb 25, 2013 12:48 am




Why?

Charlie growled under his breath in frustration. This was not how it was supposed to happen. He was supposed to make his way to school, remember all the wonderful times he'd experienced there having his head slammed into his own locker and the contents of his bag dumped over him, and then he was supposed to die. Just like that, he was supposed to erase his existence. And now he couldn't stop thinking about how his death would affect this nuisance of a girl trying to follow him. Had he invited her along or something? Then again, her words were accented - maybe she just didn't understand what he had said. Typical.

He turned around again, perhaps to try to explain to her that he didn't want anyone's company right now, or ever again, honestly. He didn't have to tell them he was headed off to his death. Besides, saying it out loud would lessen his resolve. If he didn't get there as soon as possible, he would never be able to do it because he was a freaking weakling.

"Look," he started, meaning to shake her off and leave and never have to see her face again, "I don't..."

The girl wasn't alone anymore. A few feet behind her, running like his life depended on it, was a thin boy with glasses that looked like they were about to fall off. Another Asylian? What was going on? It didn't make sense - the coincidence was far too bizarre. Caught between indecision, Charlie waited until the boy had caught up to them. The girl had turned away to wave at the boy. Really, now, how could anyone act this way in a world that was on the brink of death? It didn't make any sense. People could be so stupid sometimes.

Charlie ran a hand through his hair, staring at the duo of weirdos (then again, everyone was strange in his eyes) and trying to figure out what to do. In the end, he couldn't go to the school anymore. If the girl had as strong a moral as it seemed, she would follow, and try to stop him. If not, he would end up traumatizing them both. He blinked slowly, any remaining resolve cracking away. He couldn't kill himself, could he? He couldn't throw his life away so easily. Ever since Leon had died, his life had become a legacy, a piece of Leon still left, and he couldn't shame his brother by ripping out that last chance to be remembered. He smiled darkly to himself at the thought of Leon, and what he would say to him if he could see him now. The smile was fleeting, however, and was gone before anyone could catch sight of it. Once again his expression was smooth, the only giveaway of any emotion his eyes. They were almost a watery green, as if he was going to cry. But Charlie didn't cry - he never cried.

He stared down the street at the house that was still burning away, the smoke stretching into the sky. The remains of his house and anything left of his memories. He really was the only thing left of Leon now. He groaned inwardly. Great, he was still alive and now he had nowhere to go. He could be such a fool sometimes. Had there really been a reason to burn down his house? It was just another meaningless part of sentimentality. Maybe it was supposed to mean something symbolic. If only he had been thinking straight, the house could have served as a safe haven for someone else. What had he been thinking?.

"Stupid," he mumbled under his breath. "I'm so stupid."

He looked at the red haired girl. She was holding a small book in one hand. Had she pulled that out when he had turned away? What was it? Some sort of dictionary? Yeah, that made sense, if she was foreign. But then, what was a foreigner doing here? He realized she must have come here to visit or something, and had been trapped here at an unfortunate time. Really, Charlie felt bad for her. To be stuck in a place where literally, you cannot be understood. But right now he was just too angry that his life had been meaninglessly extended because of her. He scowled.

"So who are you?" He asked, addressing both the boy with glasses and the girl. Before they could answer, he went on, "I'm Charlie. You might as well know."



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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Mon Feb 25, 2013 1:36 am




When she notices that the young man in front of her is turning around, Marianna begins to smile thankfully, because she doesn't realize that he is doing so with irritation instead of in order to acknowledge her calls. However, even if she can't understand everything that the young man says, the expression on his face when she first sees it is enough to make the smile shrink slightly. He doesn't look particularly happy, she observes with some measure of disappointment that her excitement at seeing another person is not mutual. Besides, there is some sort of almost dim look in his eye that even a girl who spent most of her life outside of normal social circles can see. It is deeply concerning, that look, and makes her hesitant to leave him alone, even with the irritated expression he wears on his face like a second skin. "Look, I don't. . ." he begins, thankfully, with simple words that she is able to translate without the aid of her dictionary, but the words trail off as his expression seems to even greater exasperation, his eyes looking over her shoulder. Marianna turns, and sees the bespectacled boy growing even closer. It is likely that the boy before him is staring at the one behind her. At least, she doesn't exactly see anything else that would catch his attention.

Suddenly, the blond is blinking and has a far off look in his eye. The sort one has when they are no longer paying attention to the existential world, but to something within their mind that has moved up to be of more importance than what is going on around them. Within that distant look is some strange realization, the reason for which Marianna is obviously unable to pinpoint. Instead, she merely looks at him with confusion, unsure whether she should say something or just remain silent. The latter ends up being her choice, if only because she realizes that her English vocabulary is not extensive enough for her to say anything that might be of use to someone currently in a very reflective-looking state. Is he okay? He said nothing was going on, but. . .he doesn't really look okay.

Marianna clears her throat awkwardly and looks away from his face, not wanting to stare if he is going through some strange awakening. It is he who breaks the silence in the end anyway, even though she cannot hear his words. His mouth is moving, though, and there is a slight murmuring sound, as though he is speaking to himself. Well, that is probably exactly what the young man is doing at the moment, to be honest. Finally, he looks back to her and begins to speak, the scowl on is face making clear anything that she is unable to grasp from his words. He is not particularly happy to see them, it should seem, confirming her concerns. He introduces himself, that much is obvious, and asks who she is. Simple introductions, at least, are within her knowledge. Despite his scowl, Marianna smiles slightly, optimistic at the very least.

"I'm Marianna," she introduces herself quite clearly, though of course the accent still settles over her words like a layer of dust, muffling it.
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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Mon Feb 25, 2013 1:45 am





What? End of the world? Please. That didn't really matter at the moment, did it? It wasn't like one got to do such things every day. Besides, there wasn't anything wrong with borrowing a skateboard from a store that no one owned anymore. Hey, Varro always wanted to try it out, anyway.

He grinned to himself as walked out of the store, setting the skateboard on the ground. OK, so maybe he should have gotten the message when the skateboard threatened to roll down the hill even before he put his feet on it. Nonetheless, he held it secure before pressing down with one foot, and then the other. The rest, you could say, was history. Or in other words, Varro screaming like an idiot as he rolled down the hill, lacking any sort of control. He careened forward, sure he was going to fall off, when the ground beneath him evened out. And then, just as his relief was about to melt into laughter, he was rolling away again, and this time he couldn't stop himself from landing hard on his butt, the broken remains of the skateboard scattering onto the road. He stood up, groaning. What had gone wrong? He had slammed right into a stop sign. He stared at it for a second, scowling, and then chuckled at the irony of it all. A stop sign. For good measure, he reached up and pulled hard once, then twice, and successfully tore down the sign all together.

Good riddance.

Rubbing the back of his head and wincing at the bump that had formed there - really, he was freaking lucky he hadn't died - he started walking down the road he had just embarrassed himself on. It looked like he had somehow found himself at a dump. Great. Just where he belonged, apparently. According to a certain five-year-old girl who always told the truth. Still, this could be fun. Maybe he'd find a car! Excited, Varro walked faster. A car would be so d*mn cool. He could hotwire it and everything. Of course, he didn't know how to hotwire a car - but seriously, how hard could it be? He grinned to himself. Even better, he could come across another skateboard! How cool would that be?

Varro wasn't an idiot, though. He kept an eye out for those shadowy places Tenebrai loved so much. In a junkyard, there had to be tons of heaps that they could hide under. Even if he may not look it, he kept his senses to a maximum, all the while thinking of the cool tricks he could to if he actually learned to skateboard. Man, there were so many things he wanted to do. And now he was free to do them. Granted, it was a bleak victory with everything going on, and Varro would easily admit that it would be fun to have a companion, if not more. But beggars can't be choosers, can they? He smiled wider at the irony. Why his parents had named him after a servant, he didn't know. But it sure as hell came with a lot of puns.

He was just about to dive into a pile of interesting looking shiny silver things when he heard something close by. Immediately on alert, he ducked down, hiding his obviously dyed mop of blue hair in the rubble. He'd questioned his sanity plenty of times - why the hell would a person dye his hair blue if it meant getting easily spotted? But Tenebrai only came out in the dark, so blue hair made no difference. What could really be trouble was Tenebrai hiding in shadows during daytime, or less-than-friendly humans. But Varro would give any Asylian the benefit of the doubt. He did want some companion, anyway.

He crouched in silence for a few more minutes before skillfully maneuvering his way through all the trash, mostly scrap metal. He was starting to wonder if this Tenebrai had just left or spontaneously vanished when he heard the sound of something being torn apart with a loud snap, like a metal door being ripped off his hinges. Could a Tenebrai do that? It seemed unlikely. Finally, he straightened, and a girl came into his vision, just a few feet ahead of him, facing away. She seemed bony and thin in stature, but her hair was a bright red, and Varro the hair color expert could tell it was natural. What he really couldn't believe, however, was that he had come across another Asylian. After the last guy he'd met (things hadn't gone too well for him, sadly) Varro was slightly hesitant. But in the end, his desire to talk to someone for once and enjoy life with another person (he had been surrounded by people at the orphanage) outweighed his uncertainty and he stepped forward, wearing a stupid grin on his face - as always.

"Hey there," he said, probably a little louder than he should have. "What's kickin'?"


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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Mon Feb 25, 2013 2:09 am



Within a few minutes, Red's head was inside the fridge, her body awkwardly angled as she struggled to take apart the back all. She knew there were batteries somewhere in this thing. Gritting her teeth, she pried at a screw with one of her makeshift tools. Come on-

"HEY THERE. WHAT'S KICKIN'?"

Up to this point, Red could truthfully say that she had never screamed after being surprised in her life. Before the voice had even finished, Red's head had shot up and hit the top of the refrigerator roof, while her bandaged wrists hit the walls of the fridge, making her let out a pained shriek. Yeah, let's just say that the pain hurt more than a dentist pulling out a rotten tooth. Not...that she'd know anything about that anyways. Groaning, and rubbing her head, Red slowly ducked out of the refrigerator and grasped at her chainsaw blindly. "Who's there?" She said, rubbing her eyes.

"I swear to God I'm gonna-
Oh." Red paused mid-sentence when she noticed a pair of legs standing before her, legs that stretched upwards into a well-built torso, and then ended with a handsome and smiling face and...blue hair? Red peered at the boy's curious hair. The color looked as if the sky had melted a bit and dropped some of itself right in his hair, dyeing it that peculiar shade of blue. For a moment, Red stared at this stranger slack-jawed. Who was he? Where did he even come from? Should she be killing him right now? She frowned, her hands scratching her wrist wounds as she stared at this boy who'd materialized out of the shadows. It'd been so long since she'd seen another survivor. By a long time, she meant about a few months. The last wanderer she'd seen had been an old woman, and...Red swallowed. She didn't want to think about her. Instead she tried to rationalize the appearance of this stranger. Perhaps her eyes were playing tricks on her? It would certainly explain why he had such an eccentric 'do. Red hesitated before taking two bold steps towards the boy, her expression curious.

"What are you doing in my junkyard?"
Red said with a suspicious tone of voice, her hands still clutching her chainsaw.


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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Mon Feb 25, 2013 7:00 pm


Adel was tired.
But then again, she was always tired. She spent half her days sleeping and the other half wandering the small space which she called home. And everyday, a little more nothingness crept into the place, and into her mind. Yet, she reminded herself, she was perfectly sane. Best of all, she was free. The girl didn't draw for a while, she didn't sketch or take out the overused paints, nor did she write quotes on the walls in fancy looking writing. Her arms were covered in all kinds of everything- from words to song lyrics, to stars and hearts. They were either black or blue, and written in ink pen. Adelheid loved them- they gave her some inspiration when there was none left. A song began playing in her head, one from long ago. Yet one line stuck out.
"Save me from the nothing I've become."
She felt as if it needed to be written down, but not on paper of course. Paper could be dirtied, it could rip and burn and fly away. She ran to get her pen, and in the rush to get the words down, on her leg this time, the teenager dropped her pen. As she knelt down to pick it up, her brown eyes noticed a slight movement. They darted around, and found a living creature that was not Coby.
It was a spider.
Adelheid screamed. She tried to move back, but fell since the girl was kneeling. From her position on the floor, the ginger watched it move, almost fascinated. Yet she had to kill it. This was her place, her home. Intruders were not welcome. She was going to live here alone forever, and that was perfectly fine. A spider was a threat. Getting to her feet, she went to crush the little thing. But paused. She couldn't. She couldn't kill it. For some reason. So she'd have t make a deal.
"Don't annoy me, and I won't annoy you, okay? You can stay here then. You might even get a free portrait." Smiling at her own sense of humour, the girl got back up and began humming good-naturedly, before raiding the cupboard and cracking open a tin of sliced pineapple. Months ago, she didn't like pineapple. Nowadays it was different. However, it was among the last few tins left, and Adel knew that. But she didn't dare say it aloud, for it would make the situation more real. She was perfectly fine and safe where she was, right?
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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Mon Feb 25, 2013 8:40 pm



West heaved a sigh of relief when East responded to him almost immediately. This was not a day he wanted to discover that she had sneaked out of the store again. West cleared his throat, stalling as he racked his mind, searching for the right words. East may have her little "adventures", but how would she react to his announcement that they were leaving this place permanently? He locked eyes with East, his steely gaze penetrating far past her eyes. Whatever he was about to say, he meant business.

"East,"-he started out slowly, yet firmly-"I heard on the radio that Washington D.C. is the place to go. They're doing research there. It's safe as well. We just have to get there, alright?" West finally broke the news to her in a straightforward manner; there was no way around telling her. They had been in this Walmart for nearly a year and if he merely took her without any warning, she would undoubtedly bombard him with questions. West suddenly pulled East close. He smoothed her hair down and gave her a peck on the forehead. "Go ahead and pack now. Bring only the essentials...travel light. We're leaving. Fifteen minutes tops." Seeing as how West hardly showed his affection openly, it only proved that this was a big deal.

West went about the store, scouring the shelves for anything useful. He grabbed two first-aid kits, flashlights, a few spare sets of clothes, a blanket, and the like. Some food and more importantly, water. A cane to be used as a weapon. Any money left in the cash registers. Finally, a map. West was pretty good with directions, but having a visual was necessary. As West approached the double sliding doors, he pressed his lips against the cool metal of his cross necklace, praying he and his sister would make it. "East," he said urgently, one foot out the door. They had found out a while ago that somehow, they were immune to the D-Rays, but still stayed inside because of the Tenebrai and any other unknown dangers that lurked around the corner. "We can't waste any more daylight." West set his mouth in a firm line, furrowing his eyebrows. Now it was time to venture out into the real world for once since the incident.

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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Mon Feb 25, 2013 9:11 pm



What?

A safe house in DC? Since when? "But-" East began to say before West pulled her into a hug, and kissed her on the top of her head. He soon walked away, saying something about packing, but she could only stare after him, a dumfounded expression on her face. He never did that. That could only mean one thing: he was serious about what he was saying. But leaving the store? She turned in slow, tiny steps, her eyes scanning the oh-so familiar white walls of Wal-mart. What were they going to do? How were they supposed to get to DC? A spike of fear coursed through her. What if the Tenebrai come after us?

She was startled by the sight of West approaching the glass doors of the store, a pile of supplies wrapped under his arm. She didn't register what that meant until he urgently called to her. Her mind snapped back out of the foggy daze it'd been in, and she listened to him urge her on. "We can't waste any more daylight," He said in a impatient tone.

"Oh...oh right, of course!" East said. Duh! She'd wasted too much time standing there and daydreaming. Shaking her head, East ran to get her spider notebook from where she left it. The spider was long gone by now. Disappointment filled East. I didn't to get to finish the picture. Oh well. With a sigh, she ran to get her teddy bear knapsack, stuffing her notebook inside. She made sure to keep her dinosaur encyclopedia inside as well. The book pages were worn from use as East had read it a hundred times. However, it was just one of those things she couldn't let go.

Finally, she scampered out of the aisle and down to where her brother stood impatiently, one of his feet already out the door. "I'm...I'm ready now," She said softly. She gave a quick glance out the door, a fearful expression on her face. What awaited them out there?


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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Mon Feb 25, 2013 11:19 pm



The red-headed girl noticed him first. Turning around, her eyes latched onto his, and much to his surprise, smiled most pleasantly and waved with the hand that wasn't holding the deadly-looking rod, all the while slowing down. Allen's head was hurting too much for him to consider too much on whether the girl was to be trusted or no (he never really did, to be honest), and the fact that she looked so friendly and harmless with that pretty smile of her's...skidding to a stop and panting hard, Allen held out a shaky hand, "Wait...don't go...yet..." Stumbling over, he nearly fell down--running on an empty stomach and with a fever it seemed, wasn't too good of an idea. His glasses had gone askew, and as he tried to catch his breath and alleviate the pounding in his head, he readjusted them, all the while trying to focus on his surroundings--quickly, he noticed another figure. A young boy, slightly younger then himself, with blond hair and bright green eyes. "You, young boy, have a face that reminds me of an old lady who once took care of me. Always scowling..." he noted out loud.

A blur of red and orange danced across his vision, somewhere to his far left. Actually, even before he's seen it, he'd felt the burning heat slap at his cheek. The first red...a fire? "Why's that lovely piece of architecture on fire?" he questioned faintly, keeping a hand cautiously on his forehead, "Did you guys set it on fire to trap Tenebrai or something?" His words were chosen rather clumsily, as they tumbled out naked and direct. It was, unfortunately, a bad habit of the greenette's. "Where'd you get the matches?" he continued, a small flame of curiosity licking at his insides, "Or did you even use matches? It's hard to find them these days, what with those Alysians, no, Aylians? Something like that...you know, the immune people like you and I and me? Yeah...where was I? Matches, right? So--"

Before Allen could finish, though, the boy had cut him off rather abruptly, questioning them for their names (ah, so he and the redhead weren't acquainted after all...), before sharply giving his own name. What had he said? His head was really hurting now..something like...Carly? Marley? No, Charlotte. He was just about to open his mouth to ask again, before the redhead spoke up. She was considerably closer to him, but her voice was laid with a heavy accent, effectively muffling what Allen thought had thought were the words "chime marry and a". "Well, um, hello there..." he mumbled, eyebrows knit together in confusion, "It's a pleasure to you you, Charlotte, Marry-And-A. Some funny names you've got here...I'm Al--" Allen never finished. With a final stumble, he feel to the concrete ground, his world plunging from red to black.

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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Tue Feb 26, 2013 12:03 am




Other people always got in the way...

If anything, the kid with glasses came across as a complete idiot, more or less. Still, Charlie had to admire his enthusiasm. Besides, it looked like the guy hadn't eaten in days. Trying not to get annoyed at the fact that the boy called him Charlotte, Charlie's expression softened just a little. He may have said something more, but he could never be sure of it, because just then the boy staggered and fell. Charlie leaped forward in an attempt to catch him before he injured himself, but his reflexes simply weren't fast enough and he hit the ground hard, making Charlie wince. He looked at the foreign-looking girl who had introduced herself as Marianna - he doubted she had any more idea about what to do than he did. Bending down, Charlie grabbed the boy by the arms and began to half-carry half-drag him onto the grass beside the street, which he assumed would be considerably more confortable - not that the boy (what had he called himself, Al?) would feel it.

Charlie couldn't help staring up at the flames again, the front of his house barely recognizable. He may have used the house as a safe haven if he hadn't freaking burned it to the ground!. Trying to to feel too angry at himself for messing up yet again, Charlie turned the boy over so he was on the back, facing the sky. His chest was rising and falling, and although his breaths were irregular, Charlie felt some relief. At least he wasn't in any immediate danger. He hadn't administered CPR ever since he had been forced to learn it in school, and he wasn't sure how he would have managed if it were needed.

Noticing that the boy's glasses were askew, Charlie took them off and pocketed them. He no longer looked at the red-haired girl, Marianna, or said anything more, but it would be apparent to anyone that Charlie planned to stick around here with this boy until he woke up. He stood up again to drag Al a little further so he fell under the slight shade of a tree - too much shade would just mean Tenebrai lurking around the corner - and plopped down onto the grass. He scanned Al's face, pretty sure the boy had fainted due to lack of food, and physical exertion on an empty stomach. He knew because way back then he had almost quit eating until he started feeling dizzy all the time and Leon forced him to eat. Starvation came with a horrid feeling, and for a moment Charlie was surprised that Al had still seemed pleasant compared to himself.

So what was he going to do when the boy woke up? Food, thought Charlie. He's gonna need food. He glanced at Marianna, trying to keep his words simple so she would understand. "Do you have any food?" He gestured vaguely towards the unconscious Al, raising an eyebrow. "He's gonna need it."

The boy was starting to breathe a little easier. He was the odd kind, the one who rambled and said strange things and couldn't help voicing any sort of thought. Charlie could guess from just the first few minutes of knowing him. Right now, Charlie couldn't tell what kind of person he was. It seemed he would be sticking around long enough to find out.


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"No matter where we are, our hearts will bring us together again."
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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Tue Feb 26, 2013 12:39 am





Honestly, Varro hadn't expected her to scream. Still, it was pretty d*mn funny, and he kept thinking so as he laughed, nearly doubling over. Man, he loved to laugh - that much was obvious to anyone. When he finally straightened up, still chuckling, he noticed that the girl was staring at him, mouth slightly open. Her eyes moved from his hair to his face and he cracked a grin at her, knowing his irresistible qualities but also glad to be reminded of them.

He was still smirking when she spoke, but the smile nearly vanished when he noticed that she was holding...a chainsaw. This time it was his turn to stare, mouth way open, blue eyes wide. No way. No freaking way. His desires were made even stronger when she stepped towards him.
Unable to contain himself, Varro took her curiosity as a sign of harmlessness - despite the chainsaw - and leaned forward himself, gawking down at the chainsaw as if it were some amazing weapon that he desperately needed.

"Dude," he said, gazing at it admirably,"Do you know how f*cking cool that is? I want a chainsaw!" He looked up only to realize that he was closer than he had initially thought, but instead of backing down, he grinned widely at her. "Hey there, little red. The name's Varro."
It occured to him that she had asked him a question and he had most rudely ignored her. Stepping back just slightly so he wasn't looming over her small form (to him, anyway), he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, restless. "And what do you mean, your junkyard?" He glanced around the dump of a place, his expression twisting very faintly. You don't actually live here, do you?"

He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.
Too late.


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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Tue Feb 26, 2013 1:02 am




Suddenly, Marianna is grateful for the relatively simple language used by the boy with the blond hair, because soon the bespectacled young man is talking rapidly, using words that she doesn't understand and apparently oblivious -or indifferent- to the fact that she only understands maybe one fifth of what he is saying, and definitely isn't comprehending enough of it to actually get the meaning of his words. His expression hardly shifts, either, and so she ends up resigning herself to confusion, pulling out her book but not being able to find the correct words before he has moved on to another thought or something of that sort. Her green eyes flicker towards the blond boy, Charlie, to see if he is following along with the words of the other boy. Of course he is- he speaks English as a first-language, probably. Perhaps he would be willing to simplify the other's words for me? Well, he didn't seem particularly cheerful, so maybe not. I wish I could understand what he is saying, though, Marianna muses, no longer paying attention to the words of the young man as she deems it a lost cause- even the optimistic have to know when something is absolutely useless and pointless to waste effort on, and following this boy's rambling speech is one such pointless thing.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte, Mary-and-a," he says, clearly mixing up Charlie's name, though Marianna thinks his rendition of her own close enough that she excuses it as being warped by his American accent and particular style of speaking. His misunderstanding about Charlie's name, though, makes her begin to laugh softly, but this is cut off when he suddenly collapses to the ground mid-name, only leaving them with 'Al' as any trace of his identity. She immediately regrets not having paid enough attention, for she surely could have made the distance which Charlie had missed when he lunged out to attempt to stop Al from hitting the concrete ground below him. He might need bandages. Why'd he pass out? Dehydration, I bet, she confirms within her own mind, rushing over at the same time as Charlie to go to the unconscious enigma of a person. She moves to help Charlie shift Al over to under a slight amount of shade, but the young man is doing it and doesn't seem to need or desire her assistance on the matter. For a moment she merely stands still off to the side, feeling absolutely useless. However, such a feeling is fleeting as she walks closer to the pair and kneels beside Al. It is clear that Charlie intends to stay with him, and she respects that. Definitely dehydration. We'll need to get him to drink- he thoughts are cut off by the words of Charlie.

"Do you have any food? He's gonna need it," the young man asks her urgently, using simple words because he seems to understand that Marianna cannot speak English very well. The young woman nods eagerly, glad that she can help out, and takes the food out of her bag. It is layered to have the most important things at the top- hence the placement of the translation book and food up there. Water bottles are actually hooked into little holder on the outside of the bag, and she pulls one of those out as well. Marianna spreads out the food, mostly dried goods and almost all relatively hard- nothing that Al can easily consume in a weak state. The one exception is a small cup of applesauce that she had grabbed on an impulse, planning to eat it tonight.

"He needs water," the young woman explains, if somewhat choppily. This much is definitely true, for one can survive longer without food than they can without water. She picks up the water bottle and scoots closer to Al, gently opening his mouth before frowning.

"Not go down wrong tube?" she asks, worried that the young man will choke on the water if they are not careful about it. "He needs wake up first," she decides, so that the young man will not choke on what they try to give him.
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PostSubject: Re: Dark Requiem | Role-Play   Tue Feb 26, 2013 1:19 am



The guy was actually laughing at her. For a second, Red didn't know what to do except watch him. It'd been so long since she'd heard another person laugh that she guessed she could let it slide that he was laughing at her expense. The mystery man abruptly stopped laughing to stare in awe at her. Wait, he wasn't looking at her, was she? She followed his train of sight down to the chainsaw in her right arm. When she next looked up, she let out a gasp of surprise. The boy (who was shockingly tall) had stepped right up to her without her noticing. She immediately took a defensive stance, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Dude. Do you know how f*cking cool that is? I want a chainsaw," He exclaimed, his breath hot even though he wasn't close enough for her to be really feeling it. A feeling of pride went through at the mention of her chainsaw. "Thank you-" She started to say, but she was immediately cut off by a torrent of words. "Hey there little red, " He suddenly exclaimed, as if he'd forgotten to introduce himself. Which he did. Then, looking around, he said loudly, "And what do you mean, your junkyard? You don't actually live here, do you?" His face had a disgusted expression on it.

The first thought that ran through Red's head was You're right, this place is a dump. Then, the second thought was Hey, how rude! Before she responded, she took two steps back. This kid was getting way too close, and she didn't like being harassed with questions. Also, why was he so friendly? He's obviously not a regular Scavenger. He was really...friendly. And weird. Red liked that. her face softened until she was staring at him with curious eyes, and her hands had been lowered.

"Nice to meet you Varro," She answered in an amused voice, "And yes, I do live here. Been living here for a week now, so I wouldn't make fun of it so casually." Speaking of which, she hadn't had a guest in...well, never. He seemed friendly enough; maybe she could feed him before sending him on his way.

"Help carry these metal parts and I'll give you food," She said in a plain manner, pointing to a pile of metal lying at her feet. There, that was a good use for him.


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