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message 1: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments Ta-dah :) Any plot you want to do?

message 2: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments Hey, thanks for making it!
I thought the Ghost/Human idea was really cool :)

message 3: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments Warning: I'm not sure if you're on, but in my case, I'm probably only on for a bit tonight. I just accidentally woke up and I'm half asleep haha.

Sounds good to me. First of all, what gender should the human be, vs. which gender should the ghost be? I don't really have a strict vision on this, so I thought I might as well ask if you have a preference. ^_^

message 4: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments Not exactly, but I was wondering if it'd be okay to do doubles? :)

message 5: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments Yup, we can do doubles :)

message 6: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments Okay cool! So should we do like, two ghosts then? And if so, would you like to be the male one, or the female one? It honestly doesn't matter to me C:

message 7: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments Sorry for my mega slow responses. The house I live in is on the market, and at times there are showings where I can't be at home, therefore not having computer access. Coupled with me just starting to get my roleplays off the ground, and making charries that take 2-3 hours it gather my thoughts Just. Takes. So. Lonnnnng. T_T But once that's all out of the way, things should speed up. :)

Sure, two ghost, two humans. I got to thinking about the plot, and here's what I have:

Ghost A is trying to make their wrongs right by tracking down their friend before a suicide chain starts.

However, there's rules after you die, one of which applying only to those that die through suicide: you can't go back to Earth. You must suffer the consequences of your own actions; you don't get a second chance.

Ghost B, who died of natural causes and unrelated reasons, is sort of...the police of the dead-world (whatever the dead-world may be like haha). Ghost B wants to enforce these laws, and once it learns Ghost A has come back to the land of the living as a ghost, it sets off to track it down. Drama and danger will ensue there.

And then there's Human A, a close friend of Ghost A, who blames himself/herself for the suicide. Now they are strongly considering taking their own life, consumed with guilt.

Lastly, there's Human B. Human B is the sibling (or we could change it to just a close friend) of Ghost A, and is the one who found the dead body of Ghost A. He or she is, naturally, is scarred and resentful toward Ghost A for killing themselves and leaving he or she to fend for themselves, and resentful toward Human A for not saving Ghost A. More than anything, he or she is furious toward himself/herself for not being a good enough reason for Ghost A to want to stay. Even though depressed, they'd never kill themselves because they're too stubborn and hurt by the suicide that happened to them.

I don't really think anybody is the good guy or the bad guy in this; they just cope with things differently. No one really is cowardly or unjustified, to me, despite the wide range of reactions.

As for crushes, genders, and who plays who, I have some ideas swirling, but first of all, I want to see if you like this plot or if you'd rather do something more freestyle. Also, if I need to re-explain anything, I totally understand.

message 8: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments That is totally okay! Just reply whenever you can! :)

And dude, I LOVE this idea! Let me hear the rest of your swirling ideas C:

message 9: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments Ah, this took a while to write down. Anyway, yay! Thanks! :D Well, I'll start with the love interest order, considering that impacts the genders, and therefore who we will end up playing. Obviously, the roleplay isn't just romance, but I always think it's cute to add it xD Again, I can re-explain any of this if needed.

Key Reminder: Ghost A=suicide death ghost. Ghost B=police ghost. Human A=suicidal human. Human B=bitter human.

Idea 1: It could go Ghost AxHuman A, and Ghost BxHuman B. Although relatively basic, this probably is the more realistic of the two; their mindsets and missions in life are most similar to one another. Through these understandings they can heal together, and there's room for serious depth in many different ways.

Idea 2: It could go Ghost AxHuman B(who is just a friend in this idea, not a sibling of course!) and Ghost BxHuman A. This idea is a bit more complicated, for better or worse.
---Basically, it might be interesting if Ghost B sets out to stop Ghost A from saving Human A, but ironically starts to have feelings for the very person the law prevents them from seeing. Considering Ghost B views rules and regulations as very important, it's bound to throw him/her for a loop and cause a battle between morals. With emotions infiltrating his/her logic, will Ghost B follow his/her mind and enforce the laws, or will he/she follow his/her heart and assist in stopping Human A's suicide, despite original beliefs?
---Meanwhile, it also might be an interesting development if Human B starts to fall for Ghost A gradually once he/she returns. Ghost A showed up to stop Human A's suicide, but obviously he/she would never simply disregard Human B's pain either, and feels terrible about the harm he/she caused to them as well. Human B has so much resentment toward Ghost A, but "you have to hate somebody that much to love somebody that much". In other words, there's a lot of conflicting emotions, but those emotions wouldn't be there if Human B didn't deeply care about Ghost A to begin with. Will forgiveness take place? Will their relationship ever be able to heal?

So yeah, I'm really split down the middle on what side to take, honestly. What do you think?

message 10: by Brooke (last edited Nov 06, 2014 08:00PM) (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments Ah man, this is a super tough decision, because they both sound so great! ^.^ Before we pick, I have a quick question! So regarding the romance, (and this is considering we get to that point) how would the romance work at the end? Like, do the ghosts have to go back to 'ghost land', or...? Haha sorry, just gotta ask C:

message 11: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments Yeah, don't worry about it, that's definitely a fair question! Hm...well...I'll think about it for a bit, because my best ideas occur with a little bit of time. By tomorrow, there's a 95% chance I'll have an answer for one ghost at the very least. :)

message 12: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments Oki dokes! While waiting for the lovely head of yours to produce an even lovelier idea, should we pick characters?

message 13: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments Good question. Is it okay if we hold of on it until I get the ideas, only because I don't want to risk having to change it and be confusing?

message 14: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments Sorry it's so late! Fun fact: Oki dokes is now my favorite word xD

Oh. My. God. So I thought that before I addressed the ghosts’ endings, I’d write what the Ghost World was like. But then I realized as I exploded ideas that it’s way too long of a plot for me to expect you to remember it all! I mean, WAY too long! I could rephrase it, then help you out in the roleplay, and then if you messed up I wouldn’t get mad, but STILL. I’m fully expecting to have to take out chunks of it, yet I wanted to post it as is just for first glance. Maybe I could write a whole book about this idea someday with all the information, lol. Okay, without farther ado...

~~~Ghost Rule Worlds~~~
What’s The Landscape of the Ghost World?
Okay, so there are three levels of the ‘Ghost World’. Firstly, there’s The Parallel. It’s where all ghosts/dead creatures start out when they die, no matter what the cause is. The landscape is grey and barren, with constant overcast clouds, a slight drizzle, and sparse trees. Then there’s The Undergrove. The Undergrove is basically a marshy version of hell. Ghosts can end up there if they do a particularly evil deed. The earth will literally just swallow them where they stand OR the criminals from The Parallel or even police could force you there if they see it fit . Lastly, there’s The Haven which is essentially Heaven. You can only get there by doing something near impossible: becoming completely at peace with your death.

What’s the Dynamic in The Parallel?
Things are constantly changing. It’s chaotic and bittersweet, yet it’s home. Ghosts co-exist in their different levels just as people coexist on Earth. Though they are ripped away from family when they die, they create new families. They create jobs and cities and intricate societies on top of the clouds. But the thing is, people are always passing on to new levels. Just like when a person on Earth dies and never sees others again, the same thing happens in the Ghost World with other ghosts. Because of this, jobs once held by someone who hadn’t passed on must be replaced by someone else taking that position. People often get bitter at the passing on of their ghost friends, and there's a lot of anguish and crime in a world where they search for peace. Other ghosts are always looming in the shadows to take soon-to-be-departing ghosts' jobs, with fairness or by force.

Can Ghosts Age?
Yes, ghosts age. When ghosts get to an elderly age or get a fatal wound from getting stabbed or something, they simply fade away. No one knows what happens after you fade away. Most people think it’s just blackness, like falling asleep. Others believe there’s resurrection; either way, it’s the permanent death.

How Do Ghosts Get From The Parallel To the Earth, And What Are the Dangers?
Ghosts must travel across the barren landscape of The Parallel, but the dangers differ depending on how the ghost died.
For ghosts that die from suicide, like Ghost A, things are harder. Ghosts look down on their deaths at the very least. They are completely alone in their struggle. The natural elements are unpredictable and wild. There’s the constant threat that if ghosts like Ghost B catch you, you’ll be dragged and condemned to The Undergrove.
If you die in a way that’s not by your own hand, like Ghost B, things are a bit easier. Even though they are just as exposed to the elements as Ghost A, ghosts normally like to help you out. You also aren’t constantly being tracked down.
In order to make it to Earth, you have to jump off a specific cloud deemed Cloud Nine. There’s a HUGE fall on the way to Earth, but if you survive it on the way down, you should end up landing in, literally, a river in Nowhere, Oklahoma.

What About the Ghost Myths? Do Ghosts Pass Through Objects Like In the Story Books? Do They Levitate? Can People See Them?
Ghosts have some say in questions like these, but the repercussions depend on how you died.
For ghosts like Ghost B, they can will themselves to touch things when they please, but otherwise, they will just pass through things. They can will themselves to levitate although it’s tiring and much better to just walk. However, the levitation is what makes them survive the fall all the way from Cloud Nine to Earth, so it does serve a purpose. They can will people to see them, BUT people won’t remember them within an hour of leaving their presence. That is, unless they repeatedly (about seven times) show their presence to an individual, each individual time lasting the span of beyond half an hour.
For ghosts like Ghost A, they can will themselves to touch objects with no pain. However, touching humans is possible but somewhat painful, like receiving a medium electric shock. They levitate the same way ghosts like Ghost B do. They can only make one to two people see them, but when they do, the people will always remember them.

Has a Human Ever Seen the Ghost World?
No, it hasn’t even been attempted. Ghosts can never tell humans what the Ghost World is like. But if a human were to see the Ghost World, they’d instantly die. The natural order of things is for humans not to know about what happens when they die until they actually do.

~~~Ghost B’s Ending~~~

Note: ______=designated ghost’s crush.
I’m thinking that his/her life has a less dangerous looking future. They can stay on Earth and coexist with humans fairly well. They aren’t going to end up in The Undergrove because they’ve done so many good deeds. HOWEVER, there are some reservations. Ghost B’s home has become The Parallel and he/she is not sure if they can accept leaving. As well, the ghost police force has been expecting his/her return, and The Parallel would of lost a prominent authority figure and much needed leader. There’s sure to be some discord in The Parallel and guilt if he/she abandons their position for love. But that’s the thing, Ghost B loves _______. And he/she is warming up to the new world. What will he/she do? I think that can be up to the roleplayer, and declared if/when the time comes, so there’s more suspense leading up to it.

~~~Ghost A’s Ending~~~
Like with everything, because their death was by suicide, Ghost A is punished by the odds being against him/her. If he/she stays on Earth, he/she will constantly face dangers of the ghost police force tracking him/her down. He/she will not be able to interact with any people in the world, besides the one-two that can see them, and the occasional other ghosts that come to Earth as well. He/she would not only be endangering himself/herself, but also endangering ______. However, they could make it work. By the end of the roleplay, I’m anticipating all four of the charries will be friends. Ghost B and others can help. Still though, Ghost A and _____ would mostly have to live on the run. Is it worth it to be with the one you love, or will Ghost A return to The Parallel after _____ has more closure? Like I said earlier, I think that can be up to the roleplayer, and declared if/when the time comes, so there’s more suspense leading up to it.

I’m thinking the endings would be happy somehow, with the ability to make all the other characters happy especially, even if not wrapped in a perfect bow, no matter what side the coin decides to fall. Also, there may be some compromise-able alternatives to the choices, I just haven’t thought of them yet.


So what do you think? Take your time responding, I know it’s A LOT. I’m open to anything, and if you want any major changes, that’s a-okay. I don’t want you to feel like you have to just follow everything I say, or that I’m the only one that is allowed to control the roleplay haha.

And I have an idea for figuring out the crush order/genders after you absorb this.

message 15: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments Wow, you've put a lot of thought into this! It's awesome, and I can't wait to get started. However, I was kind of wondering how realistic it would be if the humans stayed with the ghosts forever, you know? Not that this has to be a realistic idea or anything! But I was almost thinking that it might be kind of neat if the Ghost A & B end up together, while Human A & B end up together. Considering the fact that our ghosty charries are going to be spending a lot of time together. Feel free to yay or nay that, it's just me sort of thinking out loud. Also, is Cloud Nine hard to get to? Like is it going to be a bit of an adventure finding it, or is it kind of a central place in The Parallel? Like something that everyone knows about?
And another thing I was wondering about, how does Ghost A know that Human A is considering suicide? It's there like, some sort of looking glass to Earth?

message 16: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments Ohhhhh, I like that! Lol, the simplest idea of all didn't even occur to me. Very clever Brooke, very clever. It's a lot less forced that way! I'm all for Ghost A and Ghost B ending up together, and Human A and Human B ending up being a couple. :D

I'm thinking that everyone knows about Cloud Nine, yet few people try to get there because it's also hard to get to. I don't really have an idea how it's hard to get there though. Maybe they have to travel a long way to get to the center of the Parallel, like they have to cross deserts, streams, dead forests, and finally a mountain to get up there, plus the other threats???

Perhaps it can be a semi-brief adventure to get there, like maybe start midway through Ghost A's journey. That way on the ghost side, there's a lot of action and suspense. Meanwhile for the humans, it can be contrasting in the sense that it's the typical real world, and we could develop their character and struggles/clashes of emotion.

Would it be okay with you if I played Ghost B as a guy, and Human A as a girl?
That would leave you playing Ghost A as a girl, and Human B as a guy?
Feel free to object to gender or roles, I'm just throwing that out there.

message 17: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments I've got to go to bed, but talk to you tomorrow!

message 18: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments Okay cool! Only if you're sure though, because I'm totally fine with ghost and human mingling hahaha xD

Oh awesome, so it's totally going to be an adventure to get there C: Maybe there are some sort of creatures out there, you know? Like creatures that take you to an even worse place than The Undergrove!

And I love the idea of having some action for our ghosties and then developing our humans out. Sounds perfecto to me C:

Oh, and as I asked before, is there some sort of looking glass that Ghost A can see into, to know that Human A wanted to commit suicide? Like, how to did Ghost A know?

I'm actually totally fine with that :D All of the characters sounded great to me, so I didn't really have a preference! Is there anything else we need to clear up before we get into making characters?

message 19: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments Oh okay, goodnight!! C:

message 20: by Melancholist (last edited Nov 07, 2014 09:49PM) (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments *fumbles to stay awake*

Yup, I'm sure. *thumbs up*

Great idea! I'll let you know if I have any ideas tomorrow when I'm thinking more clearly. Feel free to offer your own if you have any. ^_^

Oh yeah, I forgot! Perhaps there's this special glassy river that you can look into and see what's going on with life on Earth, as long as you say the specific full name of the person. Ghost A had to work hard to find it, but ever since then she's been scouring the land for Cloud Nine, wanting to save her friend.

Awesome! Nope, I don't think so, but if you do end up having any questions, fire away :)

Good night!

message 21: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments Okay C:

I don't have any at the moment, but I'll let you know if I think of anything!!

Okay, that sounds good to me!

The only other question is how we're going write this? Are we doing it in third or first person? And do you rather past tense or present tense?

message 22: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments OMG, this is way longer than I thought. Sorry for yet another rant. I feel so high maintenance. ^_^'''

Cool, I have an idea now for some evil creatures that can take you to an even worse place than The Undergrove, I just don't have time to write them down right now. I will soon though!

Well, I think I'll be the one to put the very first post for the actual roleplay, and it's going to be pretty long. For Ghost B, I'm going to have him have a dream/flashback to the day of his death, then the beginning of his life in The Undergrove, then in the present he wakes up and gets the news that he needs to track down Ghost A before she makes it to Cloud Nine.
For Human A, I'm thinking she'll be walking by Ghost A's old house for some reason, and has a flashback to the night before Ghost A committed suicide. Then it goes back to the present and she keeps walking to some destination I haven't decided upon yet.
You, however, can do absolutely whatever you want in response to this beginning post, that's just the easiest format for me at that point.

As for the rest of the roleplay, I think first person might be good. I normally do third person, but I already have an idea for the 'voice' of both my characters, so I think first person would portray that the strongest.
And I think it will be...semi-past tense? Like, when they're having flashbacks or remembering something, you'd use a sentence like, 'I'd had a piece of pie that night.' But if you were talking about something they are currently doing, I still don't think it should fully be in present tense. Maybe it would be a sentence, "I sat down had a piece of pie." Notice that there's one less 'had' than in the flashback version, and that it's still not fully in the present.
...Does that make any sense?
And you can object to absolutely anything, I'm open to change. :) I know it seems like I have a total vision for where this is going, but actually, not really xD I'm flexible.

Annnnd I need some assistance with Human A! Do you have any opinion about which idea I should choose for how she accidentally contributed to Ghost A's death?
--Idea 1: Do you think they could of had a fight about something that in hindsight didn't really matter, but still cut the final threads of Ghost A's resolve to live, so Human blames herself?
--Idea 2: Perhaps Human A was just oblivious. There was signs that Human A should of seen, but she was caught up in her own problems?
--Idea 3: Do you think that maybe Ghost A tried to turn to Human A, but at the time, Human A didn't really believe in depression. She told Ghost A that other people have it way worse off than her, and that she shouldn't be complaining, stuff like that, and that's when Ghost A lost faith in survival? It'd be sort of cruel irony, because now Human A finds herself suicidal and too late, she realizes her mistake.
--Idea 4: Mesh all of these together.
--Idea 5: Anything else you can think of.

message 23: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments No no, it's all good! The more I understand, the better it'll be C:

And okay, whenever you want to discuss the creatures, just throw it out there!

Those sound like good first posts! As for mine, I'll read yours first and decide from there. I have a few ideas though :) I have a quick question though! Do the ghosts need to eat and sleep and whatnot? Because the Parallel is sort of like a dead earth, right? So it's basically like living, except you're sort of... well, dead XD

I'm pretty sure I understand what you mean, but it'll be completely clear to me once I read your post ^.^

As for how Human A contributed to Ghost A's death, I think it might be better if all the ideas were meshed together! So Idea 3 could mesh with Idea 1. Like maybe Ghost A went to her that night, as a last ditch effort, and then Human A kind of disregarded everything and they got in an argument about it, which finished it for Ghost A. And then after the suicide, Human A could realize all these signs that she missed.
Does that makes sense?
Feel free to yay or nay, just spitting stuff out xD

message 24: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments Back-ish, but I have to go again for a bit soon. I should be back tonight though. However, as a warning, I think I'm getting sick, so if I disappear for a couple days, that's what's happened.

Okay. So time for the dark creatures that can take you to a place even worse than the Undergrove.
--The worst of the worst places in the Dead World is called The Delusion. Basically, everyone has their own versions of Hell, right? Everyone has their own worst nightmare, no one's is the same, you know? Basically, once you step foot on the land of the Delusion, the special fog there clouds your mind and makes you feel like you are living in your own personal horror story, with your specific fears.
--So, who is in the land, The Delusion? First of all, there's the Dolorido (which in spanish means the 'pained'). They weren't only swallowed into The Undergrove; from there they were swallow to The Delusion. You see, The Delusion serves a purpose for the ghosts that are too far gone to ever heal. They supposedly have no hope of ever getting better. The Dolorido are completely insane and disconnected from reality, and aren't in control of their own actions. After the trials of life and death, they've experienced too much to be anything but mad. No one guards the gates of The Delusion because it's simply too dangerous (the Dolorido are such unpredictable fighters that it's hard to win against them), so therefore, the handful of existing Dolorido escape sometimes. They may unknowingly take victims down to The Delusion, which only gives the Dolorido more members.
Here's sort of what just one Dolorido looks like:
Yeahhh, so they always look different, but every single Dolorido is a little sketchy, a little scary, and a little mad, pretty or not.
--Then there's the most powerful and simultaneously most evil creatures, the Acetaminophen, though absolutely everyone calls them the Aces (for plural) or the Ace (for single). The Aces are the most rare of creatures, and were originally ghosts from The Parallel. However, they were hungry for power, and they purposely searched for The Delusion. Once stepping foot on there and seeing their own personal Hell, they gained power. Why? Because suffering makes you gain knowledge. Because suffering to that extent makes you fear nothing. Because you suddenly want to impact other people.
The Aces are the evil sociopaths of the Ghost World. From all the Hell they've seen, they become bitter and want to drag everyone else down with them. It's their mission in life to make everyone suffer just as they have. They rarely leave The Delusion, but that's what the Dolorido are for. The Aces tend to be the masterminds that are the ones to goad the Dolorido into kidnapping ghosts from the Parallel.
Here's a picture of what an Ace might look like:
They're pretty normal looking and acting outwardly, which is the dangerous thing about them. If a normal ghost were to fight with one, there'd be, like, a one percent chance of survival. They are knowingly ruthless.
--Whew, so how does all this look? I have some plot ideas relating to the dark creatures, but I'll address them when the time in the roleplay comes up.

As for addressing your question, yes, I think it sounds good for the ghosts to still have to eat, sleep, etc. I think one difference in The Parallel though is that you can't have any motorized transportation (maybe because the air pressure makes the engines explode? They still get technology though). I'm just having that rule because it makes Ghost A and Ghost B's trek to Cloud Nine more difficult. Also, the pop culture is different. If you died in 2009, for example, you'd have no way to know what "Frozen" the movie is until a recently dead person goes and describes it. However, if a celebrity died, they get to have that person in the parallel until they re-die. They create new television and stuff like that. There's losses and gains.

Cool, if you have any questions after that too, that'll be fine. :)

Sounds good, I actually was thinking along those lines too! I'll do that ^_^ I'm going to get started on my Ghost B charrie. I'm not sure if I'll have it done tonight, but definitely tomorrow.

message 25: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments Cool idea about the creatures, I love it :D We're going to have a lot of fun with those hahaha!

If I think of any more questions, I will definitely not hesitate to ask!

And okay, I can't wait to see your charrie! What's our age range for them?

message 26: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments Yay!

Cool. For when you get around to your charries, make it as long or as short as you prefer. With longer, it might help you sort out ideas. But with shorter, you leave yourself more room to develop the character and write about their ways. I equally respect both techniques.

Well, Ghost B is eighteen, and I'm thinking Human A just turned seventeen. So anywhere from age sixteen to nineteen works, unless you have something else in mind ^_^

message 27: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments I hope he doesn't seem too much like Mr. Perfect. Trust me, he won't be in roleplay xD

~~~Ghost B~~~

~ Life asked Death, “Why do people love me, but hate you?” Death responded, “Because you are a beautiful lie, and I am the painful truth.” ~

Name: Daniel Thomas. Everyone, and I mean everyone refers to him as Dane though. It’s reference to the dog breed, Great Danes? It stems from an inside joke among the ghost police force, formally named the Sirens, which I’ll explain in the roleplay.

Age: 18, perhaps? He died when he was fourteen and a half, so he has been dead three and half years.

Additional Appearance Info:
He’s undergone huge appearance changes through his years at The Parallel. Opposed to his natural all-American-boy look, once Dane joined the police force he’d gone undercover by posing as a Dolorido. That had been...interesting to say the least. Then as he grew up he reverted back to his roots, albeit a bit more composed than before, as depicted in the picture above.
Dane wears exclusively grey, white, and black colored clothes because it blends better with the landscape of The Parallel. He has a rugged bullet-shaped scar on right side of his lower neck from his death (Ghost’s have scars from death, but typically nothing more. When they die, it slowly heals to a point that’s livable.) Dane’s most common expressions are always evident, but they’re with restraint; his smiles are always slight, his sadness is often masked. He appears to be stoic and ready to listen a lot of the time, and he has a deep yet semi-melodic voice. Some other notes are that Dane is 5’10, and he moves in a lumbering, somewhat clumsy way. He always wears a necklace of paperclips chained together for symbolic reasons that will later be explained.

Personality: To understand Dane, you have to also know what he was like in the past. He used to be, he’d be embarrassed to say, a bad boy in training. He was immature, arrogant, flirtatious, reckless, charming...Yeahhhh, not so much anymore. It’s still vaguely there, but it’s buried under all his experiences, and let me tell you, he has had a lot. He despises the limelight now. He is almost always radiating a serious, solemn energy. Oh! But the flirtatious thing... that remained, which often catches others really off guard since he seems so articulate on first greeting.
I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Dane isn’t unhappy; he just can’t stand being happy all the time. He hates being content, always feeling the need to push his boundaries; he’s essentially addicted to fear because he knows fear can improve him, and he feels he must always become a better person, especially if he ever want to get into The Haven. He’s very perceptive. His sense of humor is dry, sometimes flirtatious, and self-deprecating, although it used to be juvenile yet sly.
The thing is, there is a patch of people that despise Dane, no longer fining him charming. Why is that, you may ask? He adamantly believes justice over mercy. He doesn’t believe in loopholes. He’s brutally realistic. He has difficulty compromising. He often can’t loosen up or have fun to save his life. In Dane’s mindset, if people just follow the laws, life will be fair. Cruel, yes, but fair. In order to not spiral out of control, he follows his own sense of justice, and that alone, not pausing to question if it’s misdirected.
Lastly...he needs someone just to...not leave him, not abandon him. He’s had too many goodbyes. There’s a quiet desperation in Dane that few seem to recognize.

Reputation: Besides the stuff mentioned above, he’s kind of viewed a hero. He is pretty much the feared rookie of the police force. However, he despises his popularity. Other’s views of him mean nothing to him, and he often feels they are inaccurate. He’s done some pretty messed up things for the sake of justice. He’s had a couple criminals try to assassinate him, thinking of cutting the head off the snake

Allies: There’s the Sirens, and the second-in-command of the police officer, Beatrice Donahue . Beatrice is a forty-five year woman still stuck in a ‘scene’ phase, and she’s extremely eccentric. She doesn’t exactly seem like a mom to Dane...but maybe a wacko aunt. Beatrice is probably the only one he puts his guard down around because she seems crazy enough to not read into it. That said, Beatrice is not a Dolorido. A Dolorido wouldn’t build kind relationships.

Abilities: Honestly, Dane sucks at fighting close-range. I mean, sucks at it. Sure, he’s a crooked guy sometimes, but he has a hard time turning off his conscious and forgetting that it is a human being when he’s fighting up close and personal. Honestly, the main thing holding him back is that too much gore makes him faint. He’s pretty clever though, and not bad with long-distant traps and stuff. He can think himself out of situations, and convince others to do unlikely things.

History: Actually, there was a school shooting by his own PTSD ridden war veteran grandfather, and Daniel died from a shot to his neck artery. It’s...a touchy subject. He was bleeding out, and when he passed out he woke up in The Parallel, which was freaky. No life flashing before his eyes, no dramatic last words, nothing. He sort of couldn’t believe it. He’d died? That feeling of complete loss of control changed him.
He floundered around a while alone, feeling sorry for himself and completely confused. Dane had woken up in a remote part of The Parallel, and it took two months to really understand the ways of this new world. When he finally was just outside an urban area, the first people he came across were the Sirens. He found himself in the middle of a criminal chase for a Dolorido, and the Dolorido shot one of the younger the neck. Dane was probably going to re-die, about to attempt to physically assault the dude then and there, but it turned out he didn’t have to because the Dolorido tripped on his sleeping supplies, accidentally firing at himself and dying instantly.
He was ‘the hero of the day’ for his random placed campsite, haha. The police saw something in him that was like the police member they’d just lost, and of course, so did Dane. From that point he joined because he needed a sense of direction, and slowly worked up the ranks, going on many adrenaline filled adventures. He currently lives in a city, New York City 2.0, and fights crime, although memories haunt him.

message 28: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments He is so lovely C:
Mine will be up hopefully sometime today!

message 29: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments Thanks!
Cool! No rush, I still have to do the other one anyway after all. ^_^

message 30: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments ~ And life goes on, which seems kind of strange, and cruel too, when you’re watching someone die. ~

Name: Sara Jones.

Age: Just turned seventeen.

Picture (Sorry, it will only let me use a link):

Additional Appearance: Her hair is choppy and almost always covered with some sort of hat. She wears really baggie clothes, as if she’s trying to hide beneath them. Her voice is raspy and breaking. Sara self-harms in the technique of burning herself, but she covers that up. Her expression always seems distant, like she’s lost in some world no one can see.

Personality: Well...she’s depressed, and her self-esteem is at an all time low. All her traits are swallowed greatly by those two things. Sara hardly talks. She’s jaded. She’s numb. She fills her head with suicidal and self-harm thoughts only because those are easier than thoughts on the past. She’s teetering on the edge, man, really teetering. But for all the warning signs, her depression isn’t entirely blatantly obvious. Sara still excels in school because it feels like it’s the only thing she can excel at. Perhaps she gets through the day like a zombie, but from outside appearances, she nonetheless does get through it. Not many blame Sara for Ghost A’s death because no one knows she was anything but a supportive best friend; most assume she moved on long ago, when that’s the farthest thing from the truth. She’s always had a problem with envy and jealousy, the grass seeming greener on the other side, and reaching for things without seeing what she already has. Her strength lies in her weakness of hyper-vigilance of her own flaws. She has had strong introspection since the suicide, and when you understand yourself, you are on the path to being better at understanding others.

Reputation: She’s a quiet loner that you probably shouldn’t talk to (her weirdness might infect you). Nonetheless, Sara isn’t bullied, just avoided, and is regarded with faint pity.

History: She never was popular, but she was happy with the friends she had, already being introverted to begin with. She was outspoken and blunt. She didn’t sugarcoat anything, a bit insensitive with her tough love. Even with her parents split when she was thirteen and Sara rebelled, she still came off as someone who could take on everything.
But then there was Ghost A’s suicide that changed absolutely everything. Her assist in it, the guilt that followed...she’s always been good at projection what people wanted to see though. Her parents are good people, but religious workaholics who are so oblivious, thinking they’re the perfect role models...thinking she’s perfectly fine. Sara knows Human B is struggling, and desperately wants to be there for him, but understandably, there’s no way he wants anything to do with her.

Other: Bleh, I'm not thrilled with how I got it to sound, but I definitely know how to write for a depressed girl. It'll work out in the roleplay :)

message 31: by Brooke (last edited Nov 11, 2014 07:21PM) (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments “It’s so hard to give a shit when everything has fallen apart.”

NAME: Kevin Bretchins
nickname(s): Kev

AGE: 19
date of birth: January 9th

orientation: Straight

distinct markings: Scraps and scabs. He’s a skater, and is constantly ripping off his skin against the pavement while attempting various tricks. He also has a secret tattoo, on top of his hip bone. It’s just a simple letter C, but it’s something he stares at in the bathroom mirror sometimes, making him ponder all of his mistakes, and think of the ways he could have done everything differently.


* Fair: Kevin is a very fair person, and treats people exactly the way they treat him. He tried really hard not to be biased by certain things when trying to make a decision, if he thinks about it at all. Which leads us to our next point.

* Impulsive: Kev doesn’t really think things through before he does them. He just does. Whether that be taking a massive jump with his skateboard, or what he’s going to say next. He feels that thinking holds him back, and that it’s easier to just go out and do it, instead of sitting at home overthinking.
* Active: Kevin needs to be doing something constantly. He has a really hard time sitting still, which has caused various trips to the doctor with worries of ADD or ADHD, but the guy doesn’t have either of those. He’s just a bit of a restless soul.
* Confident: The boy isn’t someone with a loud confidence, who screams, “Look at me, look at me!” all the time, but people do look at him, because of the quiet confidence he possesses. He is sure of himself, most of the time, but isn’t about to rub it into everyone’s faces. He’s content with just knowing it inside himself.
* Adventurous: Lately, Kevin’s been a bit adventurous, and not really in a good way. To distract himself from the hell at home, he’s often sneaking out into the late hours of the night, riding his skateboard down dark sidewalks and smoking cigarettes just because he can. He’s also been experimenting with drugs just to get everything off his mind.
* Trustworthy: There was only one person in the world that trusted Kevin with her whole heart, and he let her down, and now she’s gone. So this one might not really count.

Kevin’s childhood was an easy one. Despite his parents being very busy office workers, he was raised in a household full of love and support. When he was three years old, his mother gave birth to a little girl, which resulted in a little sister for the young boy. The two became very close as they grew up, and despite the three year age difference, remained that way even into their teenage years.
In school, Kevin was never the best, or brightest, student. He was always slacking off, or skipping class to ride his skateboard around town with his buddies. Lots of the time, he’d just ride solo, headphones stuck in his ears with a Slurpie cup in hand. His parents disapproved of his lack of interest in school, but loved him just the same. They knew that whatever he chose to do, he’d do good at it. But despite their urges for him to go to school Kevin continued with his routine.
Surprisingly enough, Kevin managed to graduate high school with decent enough grades. He really pulled his socks up in his senior year, not wanting to have to repeat a year. So his parents and little sister cheered loud at his graduation, and everything seemed perfect.
Until his sister’s suicide. It blindsided the entire family; none of them saw it coming. Which wracked a certain guilt into all of them. Of course, now that the deed had been done, all the warning signs were there. They just couldn’t wrap their heads around it, and it fucked up the whole household. While his parents retreated further into their work, Kevin retreated further into anything that would get him away from the house. He started partying more, drinking, smoking up. Anything to forget what she said to him the night before his mother found her curled up bed with a bottle of scotch and an empty capsule of sleeping pills.

Ever since his sister’s death, he’s been an insomniac, and can’t ever get to sleep unless he’s taken some sort of sleeping pill, which is so ironic that it drives him insane.
He also is so mad at his sister. Obviously the pain of her absence outweighs everything, but in the middle of it is this burning ball of rage that he tries so hard not to succumb to.

”I couldn’t take the noise in my head anymore. I just needed it to be quiet.”

NAME: Carrie Bretchins
nickname(s): Care, Care Bear

AGE: 17
date of birth: April 15th

GENDER: Female
orientation: Straight

distinct markings: Scars on her hips. She needed somewhere to get it all out, and taking it out on her arms was out of the questions. She couldn’t risk anyone noticing. She also has a stick n’ poke heart on the inside of her ankle, matching with her best friend. It was a spur of the moment decision when they turned sixteen, and Carrie’s always adored it, even though it’s a little lopsided.


* Lonely: Despite having the greatest friend anyone could ask for, and a family that loves her unconditionally, Carrie’s always felt incredibly lonely. She doesn’t really understand why, but it’s just this feeling she’s always had, and never learned how to deal with it.
* Anxious: Carrie has a bad case of anxiety, and it strikes whenever it wants to. Whether she was in class, or with her friends, or at home in her room, anxiety was constant companion.
* Encouraging: Carrie always had a good word to say about everyone, and was always telling people to follow their dreams, even when she wasn’t taking her own advice. She would give wonderful advice to those who asked, but never asked for it in return.
* Private: Carrie was a very private person. She felt like what was going on with her was her own problem, and that she shouldn’t dump it on anyone else. So she suffered with it in silence, and instead wrote it out over and over on paper, until it felt like a physical thing inside her head.
* Clever: Carrie always had a comeback to everything, and it was often sarcastic and smart-ass-like. But no one really took it seriously since she was “such a sweet girl”.
* Finicky: Everything and to be perfect to Carrie. She had to look perfect, her grades had to be perfect, everything just had to be spot on. And when it wasn’t, Carrie was a wreck, either being weepy or terribly irritable. Never in between.

Ever since she was young, Carrie had always felt a bit… different. Yes, she was praised by her parents, by her teachers and her peers, but it felt almost as if she had a clock ticking inside her head, and time was slowly, but surely, running out of time for her to figure everything out.
Carrie started starving herself when she was thirteen, in an attempt to lose weight after being called chubby. She only meant to lose a few pounds, but when the weight started to fall off, well, she couldn’t stop. But apparently, being skinny wasn’t good enough either, because the names continued, only this time, turning to things like “twig”, or “stick bug”. Thus began the never ending cycle of not feeling good enough for anything. No one really noticed, because her parents were too busy with work, and her brother was always out with his friends, so Carrie, not having many friends, suffered on her own.
She was able to recover from her bout with anorexia on her own, but the mental issues stayed. Thankfully, in the eighth grade, she met a girl named Sara, who she clicked with instantly. The two became very close friends in a very short time, and have been inseparable ever since. Carrie was able to pick up the pieces of herself and put them back together, and everything was okay for a while.
In the tenth grade, everything began to fall apart again. It was strange, because nothing particularly terrible happened. It was more of a slow, creeping process. She began to lose interest in the things she was passionate about. Soon she was declining any offers to spend time with the people she cared for. Food once again turned into the enemy, and was something she tried to avoid as much as possible. She lost motivation for school, and began hurting herself as a way to turn her mental pain into something physical, something she could see. It wasn’t anything dramatic, like a loved one dying or getting raped. It just happened. She didn’t feel good enough, and hated herself entirely. She lost hope in herself, and hope in the world and the people around her, until everything just seemed too damn hard to do. She couldn’t continue putting one foot in front of the other.
So she did the only thing she felt she could do.
She went to sleep. Forever.

Carrie has lived in The Parallel for nearly eight months. Things have been hard. Harder than anything she went through on Earth. She spends most of her time at the River, looking in on her family and friends.

message 32: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments (Sorry these are a bit crummy!
They'll be better in roleplay, I promise C:)

message 33: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments Crummy? Crummy!? Damn, your's put mine to shame! They seem so real, you know? Like you'd truly come across someone like that. Just a heads up, your pictures aren't working on my computer for some reason, but seriously, I'm impressed. I really want to rise to the occasion and do my best writing I can.

For my start out, it might take a couple days. I tend to write, and write, and plan, and plan, until I burn myself out a bit and need a small break to get my head back together. I'm excited though, this'll be fun.

message 34: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments Psh, they did not, but thank you so much! I'm not really sure why my pictures aren't working, but I'll put links down as well!

Oh, no worries, take all the time you need! I might be a bit on and off though, during the week, because I'm very swamped with school :C But I'll get a post up asap C:

message 35: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments Oh, they're working now! Maybe my computer just had bad connection then or something.

It's cool. We'll just post ASAP, and that's more than good enough :)

message 36: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments ((Hi! Sorry for the wait! Wowww, I can’t believe I wrote over the character limit. You don’t have to write near that much, it just sort of happened for me. For Sara, and sort of Dane, the personality descriptions still matter, but I may stray from them a bit. I just have to see how I naturally end up writing them for the next three posts or so to really solidify their identities in my mind ☺ Also, for the music...sorry they’re sort of weird songs xD And also, I changed the roleplay to present tense (except when talking about flashbacks and earlier happenings). Annnd sorry if there's some spelling/grammar errors, I didn't have time to edit. So yeah. Here we go!))

~Sara Jones~

The only thing that can get me out of bed on a Saturday morning is the motivation of getting hit by an oncoming vehicle. And dying. Don’t forget the best part. But the only thing that woke me up in the first place was that my mother’s kettle was screaming bloody murder, her tea forgotten and neglected on the stove. Someone has to turn off the gas before a fire starts.

But maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. I hate living in this house. I hate living right next to her house. I just shouldn’t be here, and she should.

But whatever. I walk down the steps and turn off the burner, then walk back up the steps (dude, I really wish houses didn’t have stairs. So annoying.) and pull on some clothes. Do they match? I dunno, it’s not like I care (view spoiler). It’s not too long ‘till I have my Converse on and I’m out the door. My parents don’t ask me where I’m going. Trusting parents never ask seventeen-year-old daughters where they’re going.

But isn’t it sort of sad?

Isn’t it? That people stop asking you where you’re going, where you want to be, where you’ve been...? I mean, I know I’d get annoyed if they asked me anyway, and I know they just think they need to give me space, and I know that I sure as hell want to be independent...but when you start to be independent, do you ever start out feeling alone?

Or maybe I’m a wimp. So anyway, I walk out to the driveway, see the house that used to be occupied by my best friend, and..................flashbacks will happen any second now......any second now....any- ((I guess this isn’t so much a flashback, more like a description. I didn’t want to power play your character haha))

About eight months ago, I wasn’t exactly a happy camper, but I was okay-ish. Sure, my parents were trying to get back together again, (it never works out, kiddies. Everrrr.). Sure, there was a brand new rumor around school that I was a slut for absolutely no goddamn reason (I still don’t know who started that one). But at least I had Carrie.

You see, this is where the problem lied.

I didn’t have Carrie. She was declining any offer of hanging out with me. She’d decline offers gently, but the reasons were...foggy. I thought she was avoiding me. I thought maybe she believed the rumors. I thought maybe that she was skinnier and prettier than me, and that now she was hanging out with other people who were skinnier and prettier than me. I thought,
Screw Carrie, I don’t need her.

I thought she’d left me alone.

I did not think that my best friend was depressive, and that her intentions were always good, and that she needed me now more than ever.

One night at around eleven o’clock, I got a call from her. It was weird for us to meet up at this time because for her, it was past curfew. I don’t really want to talk about what she said. I really, really, really don’t want to talk about it. All you need to know is that it was red-flag galore, and a huge cry for help, yet I disregarded all of it. And mocked it. And invalidated it. And as sweet as she was, Carrie wasn't the type of girl that let stuff be dished out like that without fighting back. I always respected that.

I said a million bitter things, such as, “Tons of people have it way worse than you, so suck it up.” But...I think the worst thing of all that I told her was, “Stay strong.” What a stupid phrase. Sometimes you
need to fall apart to heal. Sometimes that’s the only way you can make it. Saying, “Stay strong,” only gave her the strength to take her life.

And there's more to the story than that, more bad stuff I did. I am such a bitch.

I might as well of forced the sleeping pills down her throat.

In the end...I was the one who left her alone.
((End flashback))

I’m not exactly sure how I got to the middle of town. I guess I just walked, consumed in the memories, eh? I sit down on a park bench, and check my pockets for anything. People call me a hoarder because I always have random stuff on me (not drugs guys, just stuff, okay? People just assume I abuse substances), most of which I forget I ever owned.

I just fished out...erm, Bubblegum Pop Rocks. Alright then. I know what I’m having for breakfast. As the candy explodes in my mouth, I’m trying to untangle my headphones, and then I’m trying to listen to the English Dub of Self-Inflicted Achromatic by Vocaloid (view spoiler). Otaku life, yo. I’m trying to listen to the depression-provoking song so that I can finally try to fling myself into the streets.

I do this everyday. I think about jumping, really think about it. But there’s a self-preservation thingy that comes into effect, and I never can get myself to.

Not yet anyway. Maybe in fifteen minutes. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in a week. Maybe in a month. Maybe now.

...Nope. Can’t do it.

Damn, it’s only April, but the sun is cheerfully mocking me in the sky already. That’s Oklahoma for you, as humid as the inside of a coffin.

But isn’t it sort of sad?

Isn’t it? All these death analogies, and that people can just get so sad that they can’t care enough to get mad about being sad anymore? Right now, I already feel like a ghost, and I can’t even cry about it. I don’t feel sad at all.

I don’t feel anything.

Simply tragic.

message 37: by Melancholist (last edited Nov 14, 2014 08:42PM) (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments --Dane Thomas--

((Starts out now with flashback/description of day of death))
During lunch, I was making fun of how pointless the school lockdown drill had been with Teresa Baker. It was predominantly because I was an imbecile, and she was pretty, and imbeciles say stupid things to pretty girls. She was cool and popular, ingenuous too, but sometimes clueless, specifically shown when she thought I was cool and popular too. Emphasis on cool. Hahaha, that’s completely and utterly ridiculous. So to Teresa, I was all like, “It was so pointless,” and blah, blah, blah...

Life’s response to this: “MWAHAHA! KARMA, BITCH!”

Midway through giving her a killer smirk and using some idiotic pickup line, I felt a dull pain in my neck. Then it got not-so-dull. Then I fell to the ground, and I saw blood everywhere.

There was screaming. Running. Bullet noises. People forgetting what they learned for the lockdown
two seconds prior, and people more or less trampling me trying to get out of the school. I mean, seriously?! I thought most of us were friends!

“DAMN IT, I DIDN’T MEAN TO!” Someone bellowed somewhere. I didn’t think that exactly excused the fact that I was BLEEDING TO DEATH ON THE FLOOR. Things got blacker and blacker. The last thing I saw was a bloody and worn shoe with Velcro and a pin of US Military on it.
The fuck? I pondered. Grandpa!?!?

Cue the dramatic soap opera music.

My last thoughts were dedicated tp deciding what my final witty words should be. Yet when I realized that no one was there to hear me....

...I could not find the strength to speak anymore.

((Change to flashback/description of early days in Parallel))
I thought it sucked. Everything about The Parallel sucked. The grey clouds sucked, the constant drizzle sucked, the trees that couldn’t grow sucked, and being dead sucked. I’d thought I’d ended up in Hell at first, actually.

As someone who naturally over thinks everything, it is a terrible idea to have said teenager walk alone with nothing to observe and zero social interaction for seven months. As someone who was a semi-privileged white city boy, it is also a terrible idea to have said boy survive in the wilderness on his own for seven months. When I thought that my life was going to be like this for eternity, I believe it permanently did some damage to my psyche.

But then one day, a Goth psychopath that looked like Frankenstein’s grotesque-er brother came sprinting toward me with a loaded gun. I legitimately felt extremely happy in that moment. WHOA! PEOPLE EXISTED IN THIS WORLD!? WHOOO!!!

But then the realization came that I'd likely be shot. Again. I dove to the side with the grace of a drunk clown on stilts. The guy was hurtling toward me, ready to blast my brains out at pointblank for just giving him a dumbfounded look, when this delicate and scrawny boy just completely took the man's legs out from under him.

Goth Guy scrambled in the fall.

Here’s the plot twist.
I didn’t die. But the fragile-like guy was dying from a shot wound to the neck. Goth Guy tripped over my camping supplies and accidentally shot himself in the chest. And I passed out from seeing all the blood.

Smooth, right? So honorable haha. When I awoke, the first thing I heard was, “Welcome to the Sirens kids.”

I didn’t open my eyes, because I didn’t want to see the sucky grey world anymore. I was so done. “The what?” I asked groggily.

“The Sirens, the police service for The Parallel.”

“The Para-what? The Sirens?” Both had lame names. I opened one eye slightly. “Sounds like a waste to me. No. I refuse this offer.” My voice sounded too formal, not like my own. But then, I had not spoken to anyone for a really long time.

“You saved many lives already. Plus, you have the whole blue-eyed-blond-haired angel look going for you. You have potential.”

I felt vexed and abruptly stood to face to what I found to be a forty-something-year-old lady. “I most certainly
do not look like an angel. More importantly, that kid died, didn’t he? Died. And that older dude. I want absolutely no part-“

“I’m Beatrice.” Beatrice said, completely ignoring my words. “Just try a week. One week.”

I paused for a long time. I looked at her skeptically in the eyes. Human eyes. I wouldn’t be alone anymore. I slowly nodded. I agreed.

And I’ve continued to make stupid life decisions ever since then.
((End flashback))

The black behind my eyes turns red, and the room smells musky. A bomb. There’s a bomb. Someone is trying to kill me. I reach to the side of my bed where I had tranquilizer darts.

“Calm down, Dane. “ Who the hell is this? Calm down? Like Hell I’ll calm down. You die when you calm down and get comfortable. I open my eyes, wanting to see where to aim the dart, but instead only see a Vans sneaker come close as it hits me in the face.

“You can’t break the nose on this perfect face,” I groan and gesture to what is the most gorgeous face in the room, my own. Clearly. So there wasn’t a bomb; Beatrice just turned on the furnace and the lights really fast. I try to relax because now I know I’m safe-ish, but it feels like I’ve been tense the whole night. It’s those sucky reoccurring dreams, I tell you! Mornings are just generally sucky too.

Beatrice inspects me from across the room, eating cold pizza. I don’t get people that can eat cold pizza, I really don’t. Did I mention she’s more or less my insane guardian now? Well, she is. Not that I’m not used to insane guardians. I did live with my grandpa after all. “They have a job for you, but I told them that you needed a day off,” she told me.

I snort. “Right, mmhmm. I’ll just take the assignment.”

“See!? This is why I didn’t want to tell you! Work, work, work! And this one is dangerous too! You have to go to Earth, Dane Thomas. And there’s this girl that’s already half way to Cloud Nine, despite our trackers. I bet she's pretty on top of things if that’s the case, and I don’t know if you can go up against her.”

“Is she pretty?” I inquire dryly.

“DANE! Be serious!”

“I’m always serious.” I say seriously, but she’s the only person who knows that isn’t the case. I’m already trying to decide whether to wear black jeans and a grey shirt, or grey jeans and a black shirt when I ask, “What are the stats?”

I go with the first one. Beatrice sighs. “The Jane Doe is a suicide case that’s about an hour and a half away walking distance from this area, near Point Seven C. The rest is unknown.” She pauses. “You must prevent her from getting to Earth with any means necessary.”

My three least favorite words: any means necessary. I frown slightly, neatly placing some stuff in one of my old camping backpacks. I listen to the only song I know that can piss me off enough to do anything (view spoiler). Well, maybe that’s not the only song. Any song by any boy band will irritate me equally.

“See ya.” I say, opening the front door to our apartment. I give a slight wave before I put my hands in my pockets and start walking.

“Don’t die, child!”

“No promises.” Pretty soon I can’t hear her over the music.

I wonder what it is like to live in a world where the sky is blue.

message 38: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments {Your posts were amazing! I can't wait to reply! Hopefully I'll get one up tomorrow, but we'll have to see C: And don't worry, I stray from the character descriptions a little too at first, until I settle into a comfortable spot with my characters!}

message 39: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments ((Aw, thanks! Take your time ^_^))

message 40: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments Heyy lovely, sorry for disappearing! Busy week! But replies comin' your way!

message 41: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments {Sorry these are a bit sketchy. It always takes a bit to get in the groove C:)

”Stay strong.”.

Funny how I found no comfort in those words before, but now they’re all I can hold on to.

With blue fingers, I pull my flimsy coat closer to my body, to block out that annoyingly always present wind. It’s spitting rain, and my hair has been in a constant state of limp and damp for the past six months. But by now, the days are all blurring together in a haze of loneliness and grey. The only comfort I’ve found is staring into a magical river and watching what I so stupidly left behind.

I’ve been dead for about six months, and so far, death is nothing like I expected it. I thought that I would just close my eyes and cease to exist. Either that or I’d wake up in a place where I wouldn’t feel all the things I used to. Here, it’s intensified. Hell, I’ve even considered ending it again, since I clearly had no problem doing it the first time. At least on Earth, I had people who cared for me. Now, everyone either wants to hand me over to the Sirens, or they spit in my direction. No one helps someone who committed suicide here. It’s like this unspoken rule, something that no one really talks about, but everyone knows. If I had know it would be like this here, I wouldn’t’ve done it. And that’s why I have to keep walking, even though I’m cold, and wet, and hungry. Even though I feel like I could just collapse where I’m standing and never get back up, I’m going to keep going. For her. For them.

My suicide was something I had thought about for months. I obsessed over it. I wrote up plans, and notes I would give to my family. I even wrote a will, if you can believe it. I gave all my cool stuff to my brother, like my laptop and my bank account pin. I told him to buy a car with the money I had saved up, even though I knew he’d probably just buy a new skateboard and maybe a few packs of cigarettes. I told them I was sorry. I told everyone I was sorry. But in the end, on that night, I didn’t write anything. I just crawled into bed, pulled the covers to my chin and swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills. I remember dying, and how good it felt. How relaxed I got, and how relief was the one thing I thought I was going to get.

I didn’t expect it to be so hard here. I’m homeless, for one. I don’t have a job, because no one will hire someone like me. There are a few people who will feed me what they have, and who shelter me once in a while, but I feel like a Jew hiding beneath the stairs, waiting for the Nazis to find me and drag me away. I used to think that, deep down, people were good, but my time spent here has convinced me otherwise.

I found The River only by fluke. I was wandering around, starving and bored. The trees are the only real shelter from the rain, so I was weaving my way through them, thinking about… suicide, I guess, when I heard running water. I was thirsty as hell, so, wanting I drink, I followed my ears and soon found my feet at the edge of the water. But when I bent down to cup my cold hands into even colder water, the reflection I was trying to avoid looking at changed, until it wasn’t even me being reflected back. It was my house. More specifically, my family. At first , I thought I was seeing things. I thought about rolling myself into the river and floating to wherever it takes me. But I watched, instead, and discovered how fucked up I left them, how really, the only thing they wanted to know was why. They didn’t know, because I didn’t leave a note. I didn’t write in a journal, and I sure as hell didn’t talk about what I was feeling, because, as I had discovered then, no one really cared. Not even the person I thought would understand the most.

And when I thought about Sara, the images changed, until her face was clear as my own reflection had been. I watched her too, for months, and slowly noticed how dark my friend had become. She sits in the park, and stares at traffic speeding by, wondering which car she should step out in front of. And that scared me, because I couldn’t stand to watch her make the same mistake as me. I’m desperate for someone to understand here, but not at the cost of her life.

So after a little asking around (many glares, many ‘fuck off’s), I learned how to get back down to Earth. I need to stop her. And I need to tell Kevin why. And to do all that, I need to get to Cloud Nine. If I survive the fall, I can save them both. And then, maybe, my death will be worth it.

I used to enjoy the mystery of things. I used to like to guess, to wonder, to think. I used to like the way the world didn’t really make a whole lot of fucking sense, until Carrie killed herself. And then I couldn’t stand wondering, or guessing, or thinking. I used to do all this crazy shit to just keep my head quiet, if only for a few hours.

Now I do everything humanly possible to hardly even live. Because if she couldn’t do it, how the fuck are the rest of us supposed to?

I shove my lighter into the pocket of my jeans, chuck a pack of cigarettes in my backpack, along with a water bottle, and then grab my board, which is leaning against the wall. The bedroom door moans as I wrench it open, but I know even before I step out of my room that no one is going to ask where I’m going. Actually, I’d be surprised if there is anyone home at all. This place is empty now, except for me, sometimes, when I’m tired and need to sleep. Otherwise, I’m outside, on the board, or somewhere else far away from here, preferably with a beer bottle or a joint in my hands.

The stairs creek as I tread down them. No one calls out, no one pokes their head out of a room like they might have used to, months ago when everything was okay. But, months ago, everything wasn’t okay, not for her. I think about it, sometimes, even though I try not to. I think about all those times she said something, something I should have picked up on. Like that time when we were sitting on the roof outside my bedroom window, passing a cigarette back and forth, and she looked at me and said, “Where do you think we go when we die?” And I told her, “Fuck knows.” Why the hell didn’t I take that seriously? Why didn’t I look at my baby sister and know something was wrong? I should’ve known something was wrong. Why didn’t I know?

I grab a banana from the kitchen island before making my way out the front door. It’s a nice day, but it might as well be raining. I don’t think I’ve noticed if the sun was out for months. The rain in my head always seems to drown it out somehow.

Throwing the board on the ground, I step on and push off. The concrete feels sturdy under my wheels, and I know that no matter what, it’s going to hold me up. I’m not going to sink into it, like I sink into bed, or sink into a high, or sink into some stranger’s arms. I’m constantly sinking, and the cement beneath my feet is the only solid thing in my life right now.

I don’t really ride with any direction anymore. I used to. I used to go to the skate park, or to a friend’s place, or to Sev for a slush. Now I just ride around like I’m fucking lost, because I guess I sort of am. I don’t know where I want to go, or if there’s even a point. Like I said, if Carrie, the most self-confident, smart, caring person I knew couldn’t even handle it, then what does that say for the rest of us? Honestly, it doesn’t look good. I think we’re all just screwed.

Mom and Dad are just done. I’ve never seen them work so hard in my life, and they were always hard workers. We were raised by a nanny, basically, so that says something right there. Honestly, the only time I see Mom is when she’s passed out on the couch with a glass of wine spilt on the carpet. Dad is holed up in his office, or he’s out on ‘business trips’. I’m not implying that he’s cheating on her, because I’ve never seen two people so in love. But I think he parties. Goes to the bar on Friday and doesn’t stop until Sunday, you know? I think everyone who knew Carrie is doing that, in some way or another now. We’re all just trying to not think about it.

message 42: by Melancholist (last edited Nov 23, 2014 07:49AM) (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments ((It's cool, I really like them! I might take a while to respond because Thanksgiving Break is here, and therefore I have family over. I'll do it ASAP though!))))

message 43: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments ((Dude, I am SO sorry. I got caught up in some other roleplay responses because I kept getting behind, and it was a vicious cycle, and now there was this wait. I'll be working on the response today and tomorrow, so they should be up by tomorrow at dusk-ish. This roleplay is actually important to me because it's probably the one with the most intricate plot, so it makes me grow as a writer, plus I think writing some of this stuff out might help me resolve my own issues. Hopefully you still feel motivated to respond after this wait, and it won't happen again. If not, I get it, but I just wanted to let you know :) ))

message 44: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 1376 comments (No worries lovely! Life is busy, I totally get that :))

message 45: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments ((Okay, sad change of plans: Saturday it'll be up, I pinkie swear. I'm suddenly being dragged to a movie (Interstellar, which is apparently really long), so I don't think I'll be able to edit it how I want tonight. I promise though, you'll get it tomorrow ASAP. ))

message 46: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments ~Sara Jones~

I count the ratio of trucks to cars on the road. One, two, three, four, five...

Time to get serious. I pace up and down the edge of the sidewalk for easier jumping access. Crap. I just remembered church is tomorrow. I can’t handle it. I can’t go. Next sermon: probably about how you can’t get into Heaven if you kill yourself. People don’t get how to differentiate being selfish, unthankful, cowardly, and attention seeking, versus being lost. I still don’t get it. But if Heaven were real, and Carrie couldn’t get in, then God is more of a mental head case than me.

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten...

But I have to go to church or else mom will think something is up. Damn it, I guess I’ll be preached some of the things I told Carrie before she died too. Maybe that will be the thing that kills me: drinking my own medicine.

Suddenly, a man stands in front of me. “Do you need to know the bus times?”

I blink, as if that will help clarify the situation. I can’t really get my eyes to focus on him, so I look around. A bus stop. Now I’m pacing at a bus stop, and I probably look like I’m in complete distress. How come strangers recognize that more than family? “Oh. Yeah. Sorry, I’m good. Just going somewhere.” I back away. A bus can’t drive you to Hell.

“Wait!” He stops trying to pull up an app on his phone and looks genuinely concerned. “I’m not a creep, I’m sorry, I just thought you might need help-“

“Sorry.” I repeat. That’s my wise way of ending my conversations nowadays: apologizing to the world. People have always said there’s something off about me, it’s just that now it’s actually true. I’m out of sorts now all the time. Still, I just keep walking farther down the street. I have to die, because I just can’t stand it. I just can’t stand another day. Ican’tdoitIcan’tdoitIcan’tdoit. I have to get out of here.

Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen...

...Maybe they’re the same thing. That’s what my grandma once told me. Being selfish, unthankful, cowardly, and attention seeking, versus being lost, I mean. Maybe that’s what’s being lost translates to. ...But when I consider everything, probably not. Nah, I think there is a difference between being a bad person and being lost. The first one is me. The second one is Carrie.

I just stand after a while and stare at the vehicles. Did you ever notice how with the lights and everything on the front of them, cars sort of look like they have faces? Like are smiling, some are frowning, some have no expression?

Well, hopefully you can follow me. Most can’t. Basically, I have this superstition that the most angry people drive the happy-smile cars. So just in case I want to jump out of moving traffic while I’m in a car and can’t find a truck, the next best thing is one of those automobiles.

So helpful.

You know, right now I can hear the gravel being kicked up, and the engines, and the only thing in my way is that one white line. One white line.

Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen...

Oh, there’s Kevin Bretchins. Do I need to tell you he’s skateboarding? I think that’s implied. It’s also implied that he’s Carrie’s older brother. Once upon a time, I sort of knew him, but then...I sort of didn’t too. I was around him countless times because of how much I was around Carrie, so I had to get to know him somewhat, but I think it’s an unspoken rule that friend’s older brothers sort of seem like aliens. ...No? Only me? Go ahead. Call me juvenile if you want.

It’s sort of like if I never talked to Carrie, I realistically never would of talked to him. Ditching skaters and people-pleasing loners don’t just strike up conversations unless it’s the movies, people. But he was nice to my best friend, and he didn’t bully me around, so I thought he was sort of cool. I think we might have been veering toward being slight friends or something instead of just being uh, forced together.

But none of that matters now know what? I don’t need to explain it again. Just look at the situation. Figure it out.

Eighteen cars, one truck-

Sorry for snapping at you. I guess you could say I’m in a bad mood.

I falter near the road. Move. Move! GO! JUMP! I can’t tell if my heart is yelling that because it wants me to die, or if my mind is yelling for me to back up from the danger and live. My mind wins. No offense, but it’s probably because of Kevin. I may be an unthankful, selfish, cowardly sinner, but I can’t die in front of someone that I know must be lost, especially someone who became that way indirectly because of me. I can mentally scar the truck driver, the other bystanders, my family, but not a Bretchin. Not another Bretchin.

What a first-class messed up mindset I have.

After all, my death would quite possibly make his day because whether he knows it or not...fine, I’ll say it: I murdered his sister. How ironic, that the one kid who deserves to want me dead more than anyone is the one kid I can’t die in front of. And how ironic, that nothing makes you feel like a failure at life more than not being able to die.

The truck whistles on by, and I can literally feel the air from its force. I wave ghoulishly at the driver and sit down on the curb. Just one step away and it might have been all over. Maybe next time. But the problem is, I don’t know how to survive to next morning without having a public mental breakdown. I just don’t want to be here. I don’t know how to be here. I can’t- but I have to. For now. ........Meh, maybe I need to buy a lighter at Sevs. The notch-thing on my other one rusted over and broke.

I don’t need it for fireworks or cigarettes, I can tell you that much.

((I totally just made up the dynamic with Kevin before Carrie died. If there’s a different way you want to start it, just let me know! I’m not set on what I put at all, I just tried to keep it realistic and start somewhere.))

--Dane Thomas--

Time to go into focus mode. I start to run because I figure the only way I’m going to surpass this ghost-refugee-chick is to get to Cloud Nine before her. I have to get a description of her first though, or else I could ambush the wrong person. It’s always really awkward when that happens.

I direct myself to Teddy’s farm, where I can get my ride to Cloud Nine and ask him questions. I get there fairly fast, if I don’t say so myself, and before I can even knock on the door, it swings open. Standing there is a cursing man with a major beer belly. “Well, if it isn’t Dane-the-Great Thomas. I am so disappointed you weren’t crushed by my door!” He laughs.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. This man gives me a headache. How do I put this delicately? Well, basically, it is hard to not go homicidal on Teddy. I think he purposely tests me to see if I’ll snap and kill him. As the ex-leader of the Sirens, he trusts no one. Plus, he is the one who caused everyone to never call me by my real name, Daniel, ever again. He was the first to refer to me as Dane, because apparently he thinks I’m all cold and intimidating on the outside, but a snuggly sweetheart on the inside, much like the Great Dane dog breed. But that’s not even accurate. Plus, I’m way cuter than a dog.

Haha, I kid, I kid. “Hello.” I respond finally to him. “I dislike being here as much as you dislike my existence, but I need a ride.” It may appear that I’m being rude, but I assure you, this is just how we communicate. Although being rude for no reason is a specialty of mine too. Hashtag teenage angst. P.S. I just learned about the existence of Twitter and hashtags yesterday. Pleasssse tell me I’m using them right.

“Ohhh, how sad! We only have one ride left.” He doesn’t seem sad at all.

I turn, and the ‘one ride’ is the last thing I want to see. The individual is stubborn, and hates me, and has tried to kill me on several occasions: Crabapple the donkey. Yes, that’s correct, it appears my ride is going to be a cranky mammal. “If I must for the greater good of ghostkind, then...” I trail off, sighing. On the inside I’m terrified; I’m telling you, this animal is vicious.

I nearly die trying to climb on Crabapple, and you may have guessed that Teddy was no help. He must have cared a little though, because he ended up asking, “Where are you so desperate to get to, boy?”

“Earth.” I would have had more choice words to share, if I wasn’t trying not to get bucked off the donkey. You see? I used to be an animal person, but now every animal-related thing in my life is meant to annoy or destroy me. Such cruelty, I tell you.

He laughs, but I keep a straight face until he stops. It’s just fun to be a deadpan like that. “Are you joking? I can never tell when you’re joking and when you’re serious.” Teddy tries to stroke a beard that isn’t there. “Well, I’ll be! Another girl was headed in the same direction sorta recently!”

I wait for him to put two in two together, but it appears that’s never happening, so I guess I’ll help him out. “No, she’s a suicide case, and I’m trying to stop her anyway I can from getting there.” His face completely falls, and I have no idea why. Still, he gives me a good description of the girl, but says afterward, “But you better hurry. She was, uh, sharp. She might be getting close by now.”

I raise an eyebrow. “How? There’s no way she even knows where to go. Not yet at least, right?” Pft, of course I’m right. I’m always right.

He laughs again. He’s laughing a lot today, but I guess that’s Teddy for you. “Yeah, that’s true. But Dane, you should know something: you must consider people’s motives if you want to truly be a good officer. If you consider her reasons for making her moves, you’ll find her in no time.”

...My mind can’t compute this. Teddy is being nice to me and saying something wise? Whaaaaat!? I open my mouth to speak, but Crabapple starts trotting without warning, a gazillion miles an hour. Fortuitously, he’s going to where I’m supposed to be headed, but I almost bit my tongue off. And that would have been so terrible because I have so many more bad jokes to tell.

It’s sort of weird to me that some kids are driving around to dances and football games, while I’m ‘riding in style’ on a demented donkey through a forest that looks like death, trying to catch a sad girl dead or alive. Or shall I say catch her re-dead or semi-alive. But this is my life, take it or leave it.

~~~Two Hours Later~~~
So, I’ve been riding for several miles now, and I’m pretty sure I just realized what Teddy was saying. He broke the law. He went soft. And now I’m too far away so I can’t charge him with crime. That son of a bitch told the suicide case which way to get to Cloud Nine, didn’t he!? That’s why he was acting so weird, and talking about motives and her being close.

In my mind, I can hear him still laughing. He’d probably say something to me like, No shit, Sherlock.

If he could see me right now, he’d find that the ‘snuggly, sweetheart’ side of me he came up with on a whim is pretty debatable all of a sudden.

That bastard.

((I’m not sure if that even makes sense, the whole Teddy deception thing. Ask me to clarify if needed. I’m thinking Teddy might come up later to bring plot twists. I’m not thrilled with these, but it’s late, and I thought I had to send you something. Hopefully they’re alright!))

message 47: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments ((...))

message 48: by Melancholist (new)

Melancholist | 1023 comments ((Lol, one last '...'
I assume you quit haha. It's cool, good luck with everything in your future! :) ))

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