|Noah is Potato
"Magnify the jolt by twenty-six."
"But sir, that will fry their brain cells!"
"Their brain cells are already decaying; it is no concern of mine, Doctor Shimes."
"Sir… should we really be doing this? Disrespecting the dead like this… its unlucky… brings evil spirits to wreak vengeance. "
"There are no spirits to fear Jones, only the wrath of God! Honestly fool, we are trying to become greater than we were meant to be!"
"Silence Shimes, you as well Jones. We have discussed this already. This is needed to bring about the next evolution of mankind. This is necessary. We have the minds and the technology, it is possible."
"But sir… to bring back the dead? That is not in our power! We are merely men!"
"We will see Shimes. Magnify to twenty-six please."
"But sir… one machine to power all this brain power…"
"Magnify to twenty-six please, doctor."
"Brain functions coming back online!"
"The body is generating new blood! The circulatory is back online!"
"The lungs are starting up… we did it…. By the Lord we have done it!"
"Your God is no longer of importance Doctor Shimes. For we have just recreated life."
"Brian activity is starting… but it is very weak, very unstable. It could be weeks, years before they wake up."
"For now, let us focus on the fact we have brought them back, gentleman. Let's keep them that way until brain functions stabilize."
"We are the gods now Doctor. We are the gods now."
You wake up; there is fog all around you. You hear many voices, some whispering, some screaming, all in your mind, all in a voice you believe is your own. As the fog rolls away, so does the voices, and you start to see other figures in the decaying fog.
A cityscape appears before you. You seem to be in the down-town area at the moment, filled with shops and the few restaurants. However nobody is here except for you and the others in the fog. Everyone else is gone; you are abandoned by the world.
You suddenly realize you forgot your name. You have lost the thing that identifies you. Well you will have to pick a new name for yourself, now wont you? Look down at the cloths you are wearing, the things on your person. They must tell you what you are in this world. Become what you believe is shown to you.
You try to remember something, anything. But you will find you can't, at least right now anyways. However out of everything you could remember, your address, your name, your job, your family, you do happen to remember one, itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny little thing.
You will remember your death.
The accident, if there was accident, the succumbing to death as you sleep, the murder, whatever it is how you died. You will remember that much, but only that for now. Well good, that is very good! Your death can help you figure out who you are much more than a simple memory of a job or family could.
Do you not know what is going on? Well you are dead. Well, were dead. I know that, you don't though, so keep it a secret. I am not supposed to tell. Where are you? Well, you are inside your brain! Pretty neat eh? You see, as you start to try to re-create your life physically, such as the pumping of the heart and the digesting of the stomach, your brain needed somewhere to place your consciousness to hide you from the trauma.
Who are the people? Well, they are powered by the same thing you are, you are connected! Your brain knows that, I know that, you don't know that however, so please keep it a secret.
You will find this city abandoned for the most part, no one except you and your fellow zombies! Do you mind if I call you zombies? You don't mind. Now, you will find it completely empty, but I am sure if you ask your brain nice enough, it might supply people to fill the city, for things such as hotels and shops and such.
Well that is it… oh, one last thing! Your mind, your sub-conscious that is, might start to begin to give you hints about things in your life. However it will never say what happened directly, it will speak in riddles only you know. But since you forgot everything, do you know them anymore? Hmm, that's up to you I suppose. Well, I got to go. Hmm? Who am I you ask? Hah, that's a silly question, and an easy one to answer!
Your character has died, but due to a government experiment, you are alive, but just barely. As such, the conscious of the character has flooded to the back of their mind in hope of refuge from the trauma of resurrection. However your consciousness recognizes the fact that it is connected to other consciousness, and they join together to create a world to hide in. Your character will remember nothing except death.
The sub-conscious of your character created the cloths, age, gender, and equipment of your character to fit how they viewed themselves in their life. This is to help the character name themselves, and for them to start the journey to figuring out what is happening.
The name they give themselves will be the name they are called by, so choose wisely
The consciousness of the characters will start to create people from their memories to fill the city, and to make it as normal as possible. These memories may mean something to your character, or they might have just been a face they passed on the street.
Since this is the mind of the character, a mind that is rebuilding itself, strange things will happen. You can have things appear or creatures attack, ONLY IF THEY MEAN SOMETHING TO THE CHARACTER. I don't want a dragon flying around if there is no reason for it. Even if it is not clear to others, the reason must be clear to you. I reserve the right to pm you and ask about the reason.
Forgotten name: (This is not the name your character will be known as throughout the rp. I don't want to know what new name your character will create, so don't place it here, or anywhere in the template. (You may hint at it though)We will find out the name with your character. The forgotten name will serve as little or as much importance as you want it to in the roleplay.)
Gender: (This doesn't have to be their actual gender. In this cityscape, they are made how they viewed themselves before they died, so if your character was gay and viewed himself as a women, he would be a women here. Same thing with a lesbian girl, if she viewed herself male. You do not have to say that this isn't the real gender, but you can if you want)
Age: (This is again how your character viewed themselves, but please place the real age as well.)
Appearance: (Please add the cloths the character will wake up in. these cloths are, like the new name, gender, and age, a way their sub-conscious is explaining who they were before they died. )
Equipment/objects found on their person: (Again, make everything somewhat related on who they were before they died. Do not have to explain the reasoning here)
How did they die?: (Be as specific or as vague as you wish.)
Past life: (This is completely optional. Here is your chance to explain the life of your character, and what the cloths, equipment, and age mean. You can keep the past a mystery to be reveled in the rp, or explain all/most of it here.)
|Noah is Potato
Forgotten name: Joshua Grams
Age: Real age 42, how he sees himself; 42
Appearance: Joshua is going wake up, and he is going to look like a normal 42 year old; graying hair, the beginning of wrinkles forming, wisdom shining in his eyes. Joshua has gray eyes, and his hair is cut short, and as stated above, a graying shade of black. Joshua is wearing at first a Cassock, with clerics underneath. He has a sliver necklace of the cross.
Equipment/objects found on their person: Folded inside his pocket, is a piece of paper with a bible verse on it; The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing. Zephaniah 3:17. As stated above he wears a sliver necklace of the cross around his neck.
How did they die?: Joshua was in a middle of a sermon, when he experienced a heart-attack. He felt fear and panic first, then he quieted his emotions as he laid dying, accepting death, and awaiting for the Lord to bring him to His kingdom.
Past life: Was a priest for the majority of his life. Lived for his God the entirety of his life.
Other: Joshua's purpose in this world of Dreams and illusions is to symbolize the conscious. The two little voices you supposedly hear telling you right from wrong. He is a solid force of goodness and is the basic feeling of love.
Forgotten name: Jefferson White
Age: Real age; 30, how they appear; 25.
Appearance: Jefferson will appear rather tall, he is a Caucasian with short brown hair, and tiny, hazel eyes. The man is dressed in a fine tailored suit, with Italian shoes, and golden cufflinks. There is not a hair out of place, not a single wrinkle in his cloths. Everything is where it should be.
Equipment/objects found on their person: In his left pocket is a note-pad and a pen, most of it is filled with various dates and times. In his right pocket is a golden pocket watch, and tapped on the inside is a picture of the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. Though not physical, Jefferson is going to carry the sensation of being late for something.
How did they die?: Jefferson was in a car accident. He remembers waiting at a red light, checking his watch muttering about being late. He distantly heard police sirens growing louder, and when the green light came, he pressed on his gas, just to be slammed into by a large pickup truck.
Past life: Jefferson lived his life constantly on the go, always busy. He was a very ambitious senator who was planning on running for presidency.
Other: Jefferson embodies punctuality. In this world of Dreams, he is the ever-growing tick-tock of a clock. He is the basic feeling of ambitiousness, and punctuality.7/12/2012 . Edited 7/13/2012 #2
|The Strongest Nine
Forgotten name: Hakim Voytko
Age: 24, is actually 32
Appearance: Hakim appears as a man that stands at 6'1 with an athletic build and multiple small scars found on many parts of his person, all of which appear to have been inflicted differently. His features are tanned at least slightly, this indicates that he spends quite a bit of time outside while not being overly exposed to the rays of the sun. Hakim has dark brown hair, it appears to be almost black at the sides though, the hair seems to be well managed while still not being too short, about 2 inches on top and quarter of an inch at the sides, he has no bangs and the hair seems to stand up on top. He has two hazel eyes with a single circle of yellow about halfway towards the edges. Hakim also seems to have a 5 o'clock shadow that had begun to form.
Hakim's clothing is not what you would expect of someone like him, a white cotton button up shirt is his main clothing for his torso, on the left side of the chest sits a small pocket. Above the button up shirt he wears an extremely light brown coat, the sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, though light and drafty the coat looks similar to leather in appearance. Hakim's dark blue jeans look extremely rugged, to the point where they seem worn around the joints, lastly his brown shoes are made of an extremely tough leather to keep from breaking too easily.
Equipment/objects found on their person: Hakim isn't carrying all that much in this odd world, a multi-tool in his left pocket, a small note in his right pocket, and a pill bottle that always seems to have less and less medication inside every time it's opened, written on the side in messy handwriting is the word 'humanity'.
How did they die?: As the truck bounced down the dirt road Hakim looked before himself as pain was beginning to overflow his senses as blood continued to pour from his many wounds, as he layed in the bed of a truck behind a few dead bodies that seemed familiar. Just as he begun to examine the bodies closer the truck hit a dip in the road causing the lone man to fall out of the bed into the sand of a desert environment. It was just his luck that there was a massive sandstorm going on at the moment, after walking for a few minutes he loses against the war with nature, succumbing to exposure as well as blood loss. This is all he remembers of his death.
Past life: I'll stick with it remaining a mystery... Since I kind of want to make the story up as I go.
(Hope he's alright)7/12/2012 #3
|Noah is Potato
Forgotten name: Vanessa Blake
Age:Real age 35, perceived age:22
Appearance: Vanessa has long golden hair that she keeps in a ponytail but it looks really unruly and messy. She wears a black hood that zips up the front, a white tank top, light blue hospital pants and untied combat boots.
Equipment/objects found on their person: A Black mask that fits half her face, a filet knife, and a notebook with different names listed.
How did they die?: All she saw was the lights and the last thing she heard was a countdown.
Past life: It's a secret : )
|Noah is Potato
Forgotten name: Samantha Anderson
Age: 16, Real age 29.
Appearance: Samantha stands at 5'0 and weighs around 90. She has albino features, having pure white hair that flows down to her lower black and blood red eyes. Her skin is almost ghostly pale, yet has a bit of color to her and is a bit skinny, but looks as if she is strong. On her hands, feet, and neck cut and whip marks can be seen on her. Samantha's clothes are pretty strange compared to the others, as her clothes consist of a long sleeved white shirt, blue cargo pants, and no shoes. On her leg however, a metal ankle bracelet and a bit of chain is attached.
Equipment/objects found on their person: In Samantha's pocket, a pocket knife, a white lily, and on her right wrist something looking like an hospital bracelet on her, but it was blank.
How did they die?: Samantha only seems to remember sharp pain all over her body and a big dark shadow over her hitting her with something before getting up and running at the shadow and maybe punching them. After, the big shadow screamed and fell down, not moving. After, her memory clouds to a strange white room and she is in a bed, and soon everything goes black.
Past life: Samantha lived some of her helping her mother at her flower shop, taking care of the flowers.
Other: Samantha is a curious person, but is also friendly, and is just fine with making friends with anyone as long as she thinks they are nice. However get her mad or are rude she will annoy you until you apologize. She represents kindness and innocence in a human being.7/13/2012 . Edited 7/16/2012 #7
Forgotten name: Jude Whaley
Age: His real age is 27 and he appears 20
Appearance: Jude appears slightly tall and has short messy hair that is mouse-colored. He has dark brown eyes. The faint scars he once had on various parts of the body are all gone, his skin is untouched and his face unburdened by the marks of stress. He wears a dark grey dress shirt with a black vest and a shockingly (not to mention gaudy) yellow tie. He wears a darker pair of blue jeans and a white and black pair of dancing shoes. His clothes and shoes, all except the yellow tie, are faded and worn, the shirt and jeans having slight tears.
Equipment/objects found on their person: Jude has a small golden locket that plays the tune of Wherever You Are from Winnie the Pooh and he wears a broken watch on his wrist, though it is stuck on the same time. In his pocket is a dingy grey switchblade. Its handle is more rusted and discolored, whereas the blade is sharp and as clean as it was when it was still in the store.
How did they die?: Jude was murdered. He and his daughter were dancing in the kitchen when they heard a knock at the door. It was an odd time to have visitors, so Jude was a little suspicious. He smiled at Grace, walked to the door and looked through the peephole. He saw a tall muscled man who he didn't know standing on his porch. The man persisted with a furious banging, it was clear he would get in one way or another. He had already sent Grace upstairs to her room and asked her to stay up there until they were done discussing 'boring adult' things. After she had finally relented and was safe in her room, Jude opened the door. He couldn't get the man off his porch, him wanting to discuss a job offer in private. Jude knew that meant something illegal and tried to tell the man he gave that life up. The man pushed past him and entered the kitchen. The man punched Jude and pulled out a gun and began demanding answers. Jude did not hesitate, his daughter was upstairs, he couldn't risk it for hiding money. Jude as it had turned out, scammed a very powerful man, and the man wasn't happy. And of course the gunman in his kitchen was the guy's goon. Jude had told him everything he wanted to know though for the next question Jude had to get a file he had in his locked cabinet. He was guided to it at gunpoint. Grace had come down stairs upon hearing loud noises, she screamed when she saw the man. The man, without thinking, turned and shot the little girl. Jude watched in horror as his baby fell to the ground, a pool of her own blood gathering around her. He screamed and attacked the man. Jude had taken the man by surprise and was throwing hard punches at his face. All Jude wanted was to get to his daughter. The man recoiled before throwing in his own punches. Jude tried to get the gun. He was pushed back by the man and shot three times in the chest.
Past life: Jude has lived a hard life. His family had been very poor, he grew up in the slums of the city. His father was a worthless drunk who had left them. His mother was no better, being a drug addict and sleeping with all kinds of men. Neither the men nor his mother were ever very kind to him. He grew up quickly, having to get a job at a young age. He was a very intelligent kid though, he showed real promise. But, he had to survive and get money for him and his mom. He learned how to steal and scam, and that was how he got by. His criminal life started at a young age and only expanded by the time he got out of high school. In that time, he had lived on the streets several times, been bounced around in foster care and with his mother. When he was19 and living on his own, he had gotten himself into deep and everything in his life was falling apart. With nowhere left to turn, he found himself on a bridge ready to jump. His old friend showed up with a bundle in her arms and talked him down. That was his saving grace, his baby, his little girl.
Other: In this strange familiar world, Jude is only human. He makes mistakes and is susceptible to temptation and corruption. He represents human suffering.7/13/2012 . Edited 7/17/2012 #8
|Noah is Potato
(Samantha, I wouldnt say she represents kindness if she gets mad at people or annoys a person she think is rude. Plus Joseph already kinda represents this. It doesnt matter though at all though, since me and Star just used that way to furthur develop the characters, and explain the role they would play. So accepted.)
(Star, accepted!)7/13/2012 . Edited 7/13/2012 #9
|Noah is Potato
(This will start probably tomorrow night. :)7/14/2012 #10
((As interesting as this may seem, the idea for the character I have may be unaccepted. Due to his constant thinking, and his unstable subconcious, his plane wuld be ever-shifting, always changing, never consistant. He would rpresent anger, hatred, and malice...))7/14/2012 #11
|Noah is Potato
(I am even more unlikely to not accept your character because you believe he wont be accepted, so you might sub-consciously make sure there are traits about him I cant accept. Therefore you would be correct in the assumption he may be unacceptable. But ignore that little speech, I got a hour or so of sleep, and i tend to just rant on about things I dont really know about. Either make a character, or pm about the character to see if he would be acceptable)7/14/2012 #12
|Noah is Potato
"Father! Father _______"
"Do we have a doctor here!?"
"Somebody call an ambulance!"
"Father _______! Everything is going to be fine. Dont worry _______, an ambulance is on its way."
I laid on the floor, a terrible pain in my chest. Everyone crowding around me and panicking didn't help the matters as I laid on the floor. I was dying, wasnt I? Oh God I was dying! A terrible fear rose in my chest, and my eyes widened. I was only a man of 42, I couldnt die yet. i still had many people I have to help. More children I need to tell stories of the Lord Jesus to. I cant die yet!
My grip on the world was fading, and my fear was rising. I looked up, and I saw on the wall the image of the Lord being crucified. i stared up at the statue, and slowly my fear subsided. A smile graced my lips. I would soon be with my Lord. I, ________, would be entering paradise soon enough....
A Man opened his eyes suddenly. The man was around forty-two years of age, with short, graying hair, and skin wrinkling upon his face. He had gray eyes, and though they looked around confused, you could see there was wisdom in the eyes. The fog began to thin out, and the Man saw buildings on the horizon, and as he looked beside him, he saw others within the fog. Where was he? Who were these people?
Who was he?
The fact that he didnt even know his own name hit him like a ton of bricks. He searched his memory, but found that he had no memories. Of anything really. The man grew concern, and he touched his heart. What was going on? As though if trying to be an answer, the man gasped as a memory entered his mind. It was a memory of him... dying. But that must be false, right? Clearly, he was alive.
The man pushed the thought aside, it being to morbid to think about right now. Instead, he would focus on finding a name. After all, if he didnt have a name, he was nobody, and if he was nobody, he didnt exist, right? He looked down at himself, and found he was wearing a cassock. He raised an eyebrow, a smile twitching at his lips. However he then frowned, and raised his fist slightly. He was clenching something....
A piece of paper, and scrawled on it; The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing. Zephaniah 3:17. The man stared at it, and slowly smiled. He was comforted by the words. He looked back down at his clothing, and he remembered another thing; priests wore this outfit. With what he was wearing, the place he was in when he supposedly died, and the words scrawled on the paper, the man assumed he must have been a priest.
Wait a second... Priest.... That had a nice ring to it. The man smiled, and he spoke in a clear voice. "My name is Priest."
"Come on.... turn green already...." I tapped my fingers impatiently against the wheel, and glanced at my watch. I was going to be late. And if there was one thing I truly hated, it was being late. "If I get on the highway now, I might make it just in time." I muttured to myself, glancing at the light, and then at my watch again. "But it needs to turn green, NOW."
Distantly, I heard police sirens, but that didn't mater, for as if answering my prayers, the light changed from evil red, to blessed green. "Thank God." I muttered, and slammed on my gas. I could still make it.
I head a loud, honking noise, and as I looked to my right, I saw the large behemoth of a truck slam into me. My grip on this world instantly leaving, my last thought being how they would never forgive me for being late.
A young man opened his eyes abruptly, and almost instinctively, jammed his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a golden pocket-watch, and flipped it open. "Oh God, i am late! So late late late!" The young man who appeared the age of twenty-five began to pace in circles, glaring at the time. "I am so late. Wait... late for what..." The man stopped, and frowned, looking around him, barely registering the fact he was surrounded by fog and strangers.
He shook his head furiously, and began to pace again. "Oh does it mater? I am late! This is unacceptable. How could I be late, me, of all people?" he paused again, and frowned. Wait, who exactly was he? He scanned his memory, but could only remember a car-crash. He must have survived, else how would he be here? He looked down at himself, and found he was wearing a handsome suite, and there was not a wrinkle in place.
He shoved his hand in another pocket, and pulled out a note-pad, and a pen. Brilliant, this would hold some clues. the man flipped it open, but found only dates and times. he frown, and flipped three more pages finding the same exact thing. However beyond the first four pages, there was nothing. The man closed the note-pad furriously, and turned his attention back to the pocket-watch. With this item, something caught his eye.
On the inside of the lid, there was a tapped picture of a white rabbit, dressed in very nice clothing, holding a pocket watch. Was that him? Under the picture, the words 'White Rabbit' where neatly written. White Rabbit, him? The man thought to himself. Yes yes, the rabbit in the picture looked distressed, like he was late for something as well. So that must be the case, this rabbit was him! Well, a representation of him.
Newly named; White Rabbit, began to pace again, frowning as he tried to remember what exactly he was late for.7/16/2012 #13
|Noah is Potato
(I will only accept new members if you first pm me the character template! Else I will ask one of the mods to delete your character sheet if it is not first approved by me via Pms)7/16/2012 . Edited 7/16/2012 #14
"I was screaming in pain, the surroundings around her completely blacked out on darkness. "You should have listened to me little one. Id you hadn't of been so rowdy and eager to leave, I wouldn't have to hurt you like th-" I quickly grabbed something and threw it a the man, cutting him off as he screamed and fell to the ground. I got scared after that, got up and soon limped away from the screams.
The blackness soon cleared though, showing looking up at a white ceiling. It was so quiet, and it was so bright. I could barley keep my eyes open from the light. The noise of machines though made me jolt a bit, before my surroundings got dark and I couldn't see or hear anything. Where am I?"
The young girl, no older than 16 opened her eyes quickly and sat up before holding her head in pain. "Ow. Got up too fast. Where.....am I? And why is it so quiet around here? Shouldn't there be people or something?" The young girl got up and dusted herself off, looking around before frowning. "Who am I? I can't remember my name. Did I get hit on the head or something?"
The young girl looked at her clothes. They didn't seem to give her much of a clue. She wore a white shirt, some pants, but no shows? And...was that a chain or her leg? She grabbed the ankle chain on her leg and tried to pull it off her, but failed. "Why is this thing on my leg? Did I get kidnapped? Let's just see if I can find something about me." She dug her hands into her pockets, taking a couple items out.
In her right hand was a pocket knife, and in the left it held a white lily flower. ".....What the? A flower and pocket knife? Why would I hold stuff like this? Well...I guess I must be a weird person." She stuffed the knife back in her pocket and fixed the flower a bit before sticking it in her hair. "Well at least the flower makes me feel a bit better. Hm?" She looked on her wrist, seeing what looked like a hospital bracelet. "A hospital bracelet? What if I escape from some mental institute or something? What if I'm crazy?!" The girl said scared.
She began looking at the bracelet, trying to find some type of info on her. However she couldn't find a name. " Well that doesn't really help. Now....is anyone else here?" The young girls ears perked up a bit, hearing someone..... talking to themselves? She ran after the voice in the fog, trying to make sure she didn't fun into anything. She stopped a few feet away from what looked like a man in a suit. He was mumbling about being late for something. "Umm....excuse me? Mister, your not crazy are you?"7/16/2012 . Edited 7/16/2012 #15
|Noah is Potato
(Samantha, edit this NOW, and turn your character sheet back to how it was, NOW. I said from the beginning that the real name was NOT to be used at ALL in reference to the character at first. Also The character I accepted did not have a name on her hospital bracelet, and neither should this one. Change it back to normal, now.)7/16/2012 . Edited 7/16/2012 #16
9Okay I fixed it.)7/16/2012 #17
The lights are bright above my head, the one on the left is flickering in and out, it's about to expire and I think about telling them to change it but I keep silent. "How can they do this to you. All you did was try to help," the voice inside my head screams. A deep voice from behind me starts to count.
Her world starts to grow fuzzy around her, "No, I have so much more to do"
"Please, you don't understand."
She tries to struggle but can not move, her world is growing darker.
"You're all gonna pay for this."
The light goes out.
Wake up. A young woman slowly opened her eyes blinking them a few times against the light. Looking around all she saw at first was a thick fog. "Where am I?"
She tried to search her mind for answers, why she was here, how she got here, where here was, but came up with nothing.
A sharp pain in her right arm had her bolting to a sitting position and clawing at her sleeve but there was nothing there except unblemished white skin. She put her head in her hands and shook it back and forth. "What is going on, I don't understand," she whispered.
Voices close to her had her reaching into her pocket out of habit, she pulled out a black mask and stared at it for a moment trying to figure out what it meant before placing it on her face. Standing she went to take a step forward and almost tripped, bending down she retrieved a thick notebook and a long filet knife that had been in her way.
"Maybe this will have answers, " she flipped open the notebook to find page after page filled with names. Whatever it was, it didn't hold the answers she was looking for and she closed it. Holding it tight against her she made her way toward the voices.
As she walked she tried to remember what she had been doing before she woke up here. She remembered a flickering light and a voice counting but then darkness so what did that have to do with her being here. As she got closer to the voices the fog started to thin and she could see others as well as a skyline in the distance. they all looked as confused as her. She pulled her hood up, bent down and tied her shoes, tried to smooth the wrinkles out of her blue hospital pants before stepping forward.
(Hope this is okay)7/16/2012 #18
|The Strongest Nine
An extreme amount of heat was the first thing that was experienced upon awakening, I looked before myself, my vision still blurred from the forced sleep that I had just been through. The back of a female that seemed familiar was one of few things I remember, blood was pooling from a wound she had sustained, pain shot through me as the nerves on my body began awakening one at a time. As it seems I too had sustained some damage somehow.
Reaching out for the woman my heart began to beat a bit faster, it seemed I was awaiting some kind of positive result, foolish. My attempt at discovery was cut short as the vehicle hit a gap in the road, being the furthest 'body' to the back I was launched out.
The first thing that greeted me upon hitting the dirt road and sustaining even more damage was the blistering pain of a sandstorm, small grains of light tannish brown were hitting what skin was exposed at high speed, including my face. Raising my hands in an ill attempt to protect my eyes I continued after the truck, though why is still beyond me.
Minutes of walking later and my vision continued to blur continuously, it seems my wounds required tending that I could not provide, the blood trickling from me was beginning to grow thin. The sand and heat continued to beat down on me... Until my body couldn't handle it anymore. That is where I fell... Alone... Abandoned.
The man awoke to find himself in a rather odd plain of existance, one that seemed to ascend above the petty physical assistance provided by the Earth he had forgotten so long ago. All memories of his life, everything, well, almost everything seemed to be no more, this man could remember nothing of his past. "... Who am I?" Was this a case of amnesia? No... He had died, it's impossible.
Shooting up into a sitting position he continued to look around, fog, that was pretty much the only thing he was able to see, a few distant figures and what appeared to be a town in the distance... Or maybe it was a city?
Looking down he realized that the attire he wore was rugged, but at the same time it was comfortable, both to the point where it didn't irritate the skin beneath as well as allowed a cool draft of air to run through. It wasn't designed for cold weather, this much was clear.
Digging into his pockets the man pulled out a multi-tool, a note that had been crushed into a paper ball, and a small bottle of pills with 'Humanity' scrawled onto the side in messy handwriting. The bottle of pills interested him the most, opening it his arm instinctively shook one pill out. Staring at the tiny pure white tablet the man tossed it into his mouth and swallowed without a second thought.
Replacing the bottle back into it's pocket of origin the man opened the ball of paper to check what it said, the contents interested him slightly, 'I read in a book long ago, men seek only to exceed each other in strength, everything else seems to be irrelevant to them. A foolish task if I do say so, they don't seem to understand that this task, this minor piece of corruption, will eventually lead to their downfall. The lion is the only one that gets the biggest piece... The Lion has the greatest strength, that's how it is, and that's how it always will be, in no way will they ever exceed this 'Lion', it is neither the task of the monkeys nor the giraffes to do so.' Normally where a name would be scrawled at the bottom the small note was ripped away completely, it's now a page with no official owner. That didn't help at all.
The last object was the multi-tool, but it didn't interest this man all too much, he just returned it to the pocket from which he had pulled it.
He needed a name, there were people about so this meant he needed to interact with them, simply being called 'that guy' wasn't all too appealing after all. After a few seconds of thought he finally came up with an allias to use for the moment, one that he hoped suited his natural self at least slightly... Though it felt almost unnatural. "I am Lion." Though instead of attempting to even say it with pride Lion just mumbled his new name to himself. A bit disappointed as it seems.7/16/2012 #19
It was as if it was a dream. With him seeing himself, or rather an older, yet similar version of how he looked now in front of him. He stared at his older self, and thought of it as an out of body experience. It seemed as if it could be but it was not so. The memory of himself walked his head high, yet fear hidden behind dark eyes that only the one possessing the fear may look upon it and recognize it. He remembered the fear and knew that it wasn't for the gun on his back. Not his. The gun had however provoked obedience, or rather the fear that wasn't for the gun pointing at him, had indeed provoked it.
The gunman he saw was tall and a bit muscular but not overly so. The hit man had a gentle face just as his memory and him. Except that man's face was scarred and held a determined ferocity. One would not consider the gentleness in the moment the face was first seen or even then with a nasty glare and a gun charged by greed. (It was a fact that could only be seen examining it outside one's own body. On noticed a lot more this way) No, the gentleness of it all was hidden, covered under a mask, just as the memory's face was at that moment. Though one could tell the ugliness on his memory's face was renewed from years past and was thoroughly out of use. It was like trying to restore a band aid to the place where it had fallen off, not the same as it was, but still enough stickiness left to hold on an already healing cut.
Then there was the scream. Both the memory man and the real man turned to look upon it. Both turns, yet both held different reactions.
The deceitful gunman spun on his heels, and dislodged a bullet from the barrel of his gun. He reacted to the noise, not to the voice, not to the words; was startled. Startling a focused person is always worse than startling a non-focused one. A focused person will jump and react instantaneously and unknowingly, whereas an unfocused person would be more likely to notice an unexpected event as they are flitting attention from the task at hand. They process, they see, hear, they react with a little more mind The not so gentle faced hit man was focused and startled, he immediately swung the gun towards the noise and shot.
This is where the two same men differ. The man's memory version was shattered at the sound. It was evident his fear had come true. His face held so much pain, his eyes threatened to burst, his lips looked as if they would crack from dryness. His shock held his tears and sorrow for a moment but only a moment. It was the face of a broken man, the one who had lost his cause for living, the one who looked so utterly hurt that his hart must have been ripped out.
When the man turned to look at where the noise had come from, he had not seen as his memory had. Whet he had once seen was erased from his mind. He heard the scream and knew it was a scream. He had once heard the word and responded to the voice, but know he heard only a sort of muffled scream. It was just as loud as it had once been but the word could no longer be heard and the voice no longer recognized; though he knew and felt within his heart that he had known both. Looking upon who screamed, he saw no one. He knew someone was there but he could no longer see them as he had once done.
Since he couldn't see anything, he turned back to himself as the memory screamed, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The man felt it, his heart being brutally torn from his chest, but he didn't know exactly why. Didn't remember the person who obviously had meant the world to him. He muttered a name but he couldn't remember what the name was. He hardly had time to think; he had lunged at the man, only to be shot thrice; once in his already a ruin of a heart. The man watched as he gasped for air, now clutching his own chest and then throat as if it was really happening all over again. The man on the floor let his head fall to the right, blood trickling from his mouth. His hand had fallen back, and by some miracle he had enough life to reach back his hand to something unseen and whispered inaudibly, "You'll be alright. Safe and sound". Blackness swirled around the standing man and pulled him away.
The man opened his eyes and looked around panting heavily. He moved his hand to his heart as if he would find a hole there. His hands were white and shaking. He wore blue jeans, a dark grey dress shirt that he now pushed past his elbows. He looked down and saw the yellow tie brightly sticking out behind the black vest, the only garment not torn or faded. The yellow calmed him down slightly. He looked around and saw out of the corner of his eye a horse. A pallid looking thing. As soon as he blinked it was gone. He cast it from his mind. I can't remember a thing. That was a lie; he remembered his death of course. If he was dead where was he. He felt alive so how could that have happened. Maybe it was some sort of afterlife, he didn't know much about that, or any religion really, maybe it's a new life. As the man with mousy hair turned around to look around him he noticed the ease of doing so. He found the culprit looking down at his shoes. Black and white dancing shoes. He spun on his toes, then holding out his arm as if he would spin a smaller dancer. He had done so on impulse, as he had most likely grown accustomed to; though now he knows not why. A hint of sadness filled him, there was something missing. He was very confused.
The man looked down at his watch, cracked and stuck at 8:19 am. He tapped it with a frown. He looked cautiously at others who searched for clues. They are as lost as I am, perhaps. The man checked his pockets and found a peculiar switchblade in his jean pocket. The handle was old, the blade new. Or is it? He eyed the blade carefully, unsure of his reasons for having it, but not at all wary of fingering it in his hands. He grasped it and slashed at the air with ease. He was familiar with it whether he remembered it or not. He noted the dark stain on the handle, before returning it to a pocket, in which he could pull it out easily if necessary. His fingers brushed against cold metal. He pulled at the chain and dangled the locket in front of his face. His brows scrunched in annoyance. He didn't like not knowing what any of this meant, especially since the locket seemed important. Light hit the brass piece, glowing around it happily, making it seem gold.
Brown eyes eyed it curiously as if he could unlock the mysteries simply by staring at it. It was circular in shape; a simple unicorn lay in the center on the front piece. I looked as if the young foul would rise up at any moment from the locket and gallop away with cheer. Two stems sprouted from the bottom, crossed and joined to form a circle. From the bottom betwixt the two sprouted a stem that intertwined with the circle. Lines crissed crossed inside this patterned circle, forming a sky. Grass was formed as well in the circle with marks and pieces that would almost possibly grow from the spot. Outside the interlocking stems bloom four flowers, with petals that threaten to rise from the metallic surface. He reluctantly tore his gaze from the entrancing design, pressing the button at the top of the circular device and gently opening it in his hands. A soft tune escaped the locket, he gasped, his breath ceasing in order to hear. His eyes closed, and in some miracle words formed in his head, but they did not manage to pass through his dry lips, instead his lips barley moved with the words grasping onto the edge as if they knew better than he, what would come if he said them aloud. Come out moon, come out wishing star, come out, come out, wherever you are. He studied the open locket and noticed under the glass on the left side that a picture used to be there.There were torn pieces where the picture was removed. On the other side was the slight protrusion of the musical device. Still there were written words etched onto the ornate circle. 'I love you Gracie, no matter where you are, I'll always love you baby.' There was a dash to mark who said it, but it was brushed away so he could no longer see it. "Gracie." He said aloud. Who is she, why do I have her locket? Surely he couldn't have given it to her, he would remember. Grace, whoever she is obviously deserves to be. The unnamed man listened to the tune once more and began to close the locket with a heavy heart. I don't know what else to do. Except to try to dream of you, and wonder if you are dreaming too. Wherever you are.
As he snapped the locket shut, he heard a little laugh. His eyes widened involuntarily and his eyes darted to the other people, searching. He frowned, his eyes traveling to the sky for some reason. There was a yearning in his stomach, so much so that he clutched it, not knowing what he wanted so badly. He gazed at the fading stars and found one brilliant one; it twinkled in the pale sky. A shooting star shot passed it. Falling star. That's me. It must be. He had no idea why he thought that, but he felt it; a pull to the scintillating star. He didn't feel worthy of having star in the title of his name after all stars were beautiful and pure and he had a feeling he wasn't. The star twinkled again as if to tell him that he must take the name, so he did. It sounded stupid, but he liked it. He finally tore his gaze from the bright star, nodding fervently, before testing out his new name. "Falling star. Yes, my name is falling star." He looked back to the still visible star for confirmation and nodded more certainly. "Yes that will do."7/17/2012 . Edited 7/17/2012 #20
|Noah is Potato
Priest looked around, and as the fog seemed to be completely gone from this small area, he studied the others. All of them looked as confused as him, and they all searched their belongings and looked down at themselves. Priest frowned, this suggested allof them had lost their memories as he had. This was further confirmed when some of them stated their names, as if picking them for the first time.
"Falling Star, yes, my name is Falling Star.That will do."
At this last one, made Priest look up, but the sky was cloudy and gray. Where did this man see stars? Priest looked down when he heard a girl ask another a question. "Um.... Excuse me mister, your not crazy are you?"
Priest frowned at this rudeness, and was about to step in when the man replied sharply. This upset him even more, and was about to say one more thing, when something strange happened, tearing his gaze away from the others.
White Rabbit continued his pacing, but stopped abruptly when he heard a girl rudely ask him if he was crazy. He stopped suddenly, and looked at her with an annoyed face, snapping his pocket watch close. "Why do you ask a stupid question at such a time? Cant you see I am late for something. I am not sure what for, and that is what I am trying to figure out, so please leave me be."
White Rabbit started to pace again, opening his watch, before stopping and snapping it close again. "Further more, the answer to that question would always be no. Because if you asked a sane person that, they would say no. If you asked someone who was not sane, they would probably be unaware of the defect in their brain, and believe their thinking is accepted by normal society, and would say no." White Rabbit was going to continue his tirade on the girl, when something very starnge happened, causing him to look away.
"What is going on!?"
"Sir, the subjects seem to be experiencing spasms, most likely from the physical trauma of being brought back to life."
"Is it fatal? Will they die once again? Cant you give them something!?"
"It may be fatal yes, and no we cant. Their minds and bodies are like a new-born child, delicate and easy to shatter. Any drug placed in them now may kill them."
"Well calm them somehow!"
"Doctor! Brain activity is spiking!"
"In which one?"
"All of them!"
"Good Lord.... I have never seen this much Activity...."
In the dream, the ground was shaking violently, screams could be heard in their mind, screams from their own voices it would seem. Soon the fog began to fade completely, leaving the dreamers staring at a city a mile or two away. And if they turned to look behind them. they would see they were standing at a cliff. The cliff however wasnt so much a cliff, as an edge, nothing existing after it. Only fog and darkness combined.
Priest stared at it, and walked a little closer. "My God..." He whispered, and closed his eyes and began to pray. White Rabbit temporally forgot the he was late, and stared at the edge to darkness and fog. For some reason, he knew exactly what it was. he didnt know how he knew, but he knew. "We are standing at the edge of the world, arnt we?" He asked, narrowing his eyes as he opened and shut his pocket watch.
They both stood erect, hairs standing on end, as they heard a voice in their mind. They had a feeling everyone heard this voice, but believed each voice was different. Priest heard his own voice, and White Rabbit heard his own voice. Together they sang in the minds of the dreamers.
As I lay myself to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
And If I die before I wake.
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
"What is happening?" Priest whispered, clutching at the necklace dangling around his neck.7/17/2012 . Edited 7/17/2012 #21
As I lay myself to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
And If I die before I wake.
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I was just confused-" The young girl soon stopped talking and covered her ears, trying to stop hearing the strange screams in her ears all of a sudden. They were strange. It seemed as if she was hearing her own screams inside her head, which terrified her greatly. She looked in front of her to see the fog had suddenly disappeared, showing a mile or two a city far away from them. The girl was about to walk further in hopes of getting a better look but stopped, looking behind her to see a large....cliff of sorts in front of her. "W-What's going on? What kind of place is this?"7/17/2012 #22
As the ground began to tremble, Falling Star braced himself. He glanced around him quickly as the fog thinned. His hand touched his ear gingerly as a scream filled his mind, also shutting his eyes. As it began to fade, his eyes readjusted and took in his surroundings. He saw the city and then turned around to see what others were staring at. Falling Star's eyes grew wide at the site of the cliff. He walked to the edge and stood, the tip of his shoes hanging off. He bent his head to look down at the nothingness, clearly aghast. He kicked at a pebble and sent it tumbling off the edge. He stepped back and muttered, "Edge of the world indeed."
As I lay myself to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
And If I die before I wake.
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
Once again, Falling Star looked around in confusion, the voice of a little girl filling his head. His voice joined with hers after the second line. His breathing became heavy, so he turned his back on the cliff and its tenebrosity. He glanced at the man who claimed the name Priest and whispered not unkindly,"Judgment, Afterlife, Hell, you tell me." It almost was a plea, he doubted anyone knew what was going on, but he could still wish. That was about all he could do at this point.7/18/2012 . Edited 7/18/2012 #23
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