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Epic Irony

Profitable Prophet

PostPosted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 12:04 pm


THE STORY


In a small, rural town somewhere in the Northeastern United States, a few strangers wake up in a barn, having no memory whatsoever of how they got there. Outside, night has fallen on this little town... And has stayed dark for the past 72 hours. With mysterious creatures appearing in every shadow, and an equally mysterious military quarantine of the town, these few strangers must band together, find out what the hell's going on, and escape with their lives. The bloodthirsty creatures itching for a meal, military with orders to shoot all personnel, civilian or otherwise on sight, and even tensions between themselves might make that even more difficult... And with nothing but a small lantern that's slowly running out of fuel, the clock's ticking... Can you escape? Can you survive, when it's time for...... Lights Out?
PostPosted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 12:14 pm


THE RULES


READ ALL OF THEM.


1. No God-Modding. I have a little thing I like to call the Narrator, and that's who's running the story. All Narrator posts will be in Indigo.

2. PM ALL PROFILES TO EPIC IRONY. You have no special powers. You're just an average, everyday normal person. If you do something I decide is out of that category, or doesn't fit... You get a strike. And you know the old saying... Three strikes, and the Narrator tears your guts out and hangs you with them.

3. The creatures mentioned in the story are invulnerable unless they are in the light. While the light doesn't actually kill them, it renders them susceptible to harm. Remember that...

4. The military, while not invulnerable, have something of vital importance; guns. Try to be careful while obtaining these precious items, as they will prove to be your undoing if you make one false move.

5. And, last but not least, the few remaining townspeople. They are armed with everything from a pitchfork to a 12 gauge, and a little too paranoid to want to have anything to do with other people. In fact, they're so paranoid they might as well be certifiably insane.

6. Gaia ToS and all Guild Rules apply. Have fun, and play nice.

Epic Irony

Profitable Prophet


Epic Irony

Profitable Prophet

PostPosted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 12:16 pm


Accepted Profiles


Skeleton:


Username:
RP Name:
Age:
Occupation:
Weapon Carried(Optional, must relate to your character somehow):
Biography:
Personality:
The Last Thing I Remember:



Username: Epic Irony
RP Name: Chris Tucker
Age: 22
Occupation: Lead Guitarist in his friend's band, SwitchBlade
Weapon Carried: 6 inch Switchblade
Biography: Chris grew up in a poor neighborhood just outside of Raleigh, North Carolina. Living right across the street from a meth lab did have it's upsides, like watching the cops in action... And always carrying a weapon of some kind on him. His few friends, a grand total of three of them, decided to get together and start a band when Chris was 17. Chris' talent on the guitar pretty much automatically assigned him the spot as Lead Guitar. His friend came up with the name, SwitchBlade. The plan was, at the end of every gig they would take out a switchblade and stab it into the stage at the same time, for effect. So they all got into the habit of always carrying a switchblade on them.
Personality: Fun-loving, laid back. A joker, enjoys making people laugh. He's pretty much unaffected by pressure, and even when his life is in unbelievable danger he's goofing off. Always the slacker, if there's a way to cut corners or half-a** a job, you can bet he'll do it. He also has a slightly sick and twisted sense of humor... It's very morbid. For examples, reference Cyanide & Happiness.
The Last Thing I Remember: Chris was getting into his car to go to his first gig, at the local bar for Two-fer-Tuesday. Supposedly the new owner of the neighboring town's record company goes there often, and was supposed to be there. So it was a rather important thing.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Username: Kira_Tatahashi
RP Name: Rebecca Moyer
Age: 26
Occupation: Mechanic
Weapon Carried: Wrench
Biography: Growing up, Rebecca was a lot different than all of the other girls her age, not to mention her own two sisters. She looked up to her brother, the eldest of her siblings, and always wanted to do what he did. Her brother had a passion for cars, and so since Rebecca had spent so much time around him, she gained the same passion. While her sisters and the other girls around her were busy putting on make-up and playing with dolls, Rebecca was out in the garage getting axel grease all over her while she assisted her brother in fixing cars. After her brother's death in a car accident as a result of illegal street racing, Rebecca decided to quit high school and work for the local mechanics shop in their town. She's been working there since the age of 16, and loves every minute of it.
Personality: Straight-forward and stubborn, Rebecca can both be a great asset and a great inconvenience. She works very well under pressure, and despite her spit-fire attitude and brash language, she is ready to take the lead in any situation when the task calls for it.
The Last Thing I Remember: Going outside for a smoke-break during her double shift at the shop.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Username: Ghostly_apparition
RP Name: Darius Driels
Age: 26
Occupation: Security guard.
Weapon Carried: 2 foot long night stick.
Biography: Darius has always been a big man. He was born that way. He was born with an enormously fast metabolism so he looks like one of those guys who works out alot. But he barely ever goes to the gym maybe once or twice a week but looks as if he goes everyday. He was the head guard at a major corporation. And he was good at it. He was even considered a hero from when the fired c.e.o tried to steal 12 million dollars in company secrets and Darius found him and stopped him.
Personality: Hes a rather happy kind of guy. He loves to laugh and joke around. But he doesn't stand for bull from anyone. Hes been known to crack a skull or two in bar fights from when someone couldn't find something more intelligent to say.
The Last Thing I Remember: Walking my rounds around the company halls.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Username: Imortal Sam R I
RP Name:Roger
Age: 18
Occupation: N/A
Weapon Carried: N/A
Biography: Roger grew up in a suburb that he found was not so kind to him. He never really had friends, and was not very social. So one day Roger made his own friends. These friends were always nice to Roger, not like the other people in his neighbor hood. So one day his friends had a wonderful idea... kill those jerks. After he was arrested for attempted murder, he was sent to a psychiatric ward because he was unfit for trial. His lawyer thought it was Roger's best bet since he did blew up the judges car right before trial. Roger's friends thought it was a good idea
Personality: Really off the wall. he is a very likable guy as long as you dont hurt his feelings.
The Last Thing I Remeber: Stabbing a man in white with a kitchen fork. He laughed all the way in a straight jacket.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Username: bandi138138
RP Name: Inho Han
Age: 24
Occupation: Martial Arts Instructor
Weapon Carried: SaIn-Gum (Translates as the Four Tiger Blade)
Biography: Inho was one of the instructors of a large school of Tekkyun, an ancient Korean Martial art. However, as people are more inclined to learn TaeKwonDo, a more modernized variant of Tekkyun, the school took on themselves as missionaries as demonstrators of Tekkyun to the mass and recruiting students. They were on a cross country demonstration tour when the events unfold.
Inho is a second generation Korean-American, but is fluent in his parent's language thanks to visits to his motherland every summer and winter for Tekkyun camp ever since he was a child.
Personality: He is mostly quiet, reserved to himself, and rarely stands out in a crowd. He blends in quietly.
The Last Thing I Remember: Taking a pit stop on the highway for gas and restroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Username: Xavier Dusk
RP Name: Christian Clements. (Grew up going by 'Chris'.)
Age: 26
Occupation: Digital Animator/Artist.
Weapon Carried: 2 Pencils. Pencil Sharpener. sweatdrop
Biography: Christian grew up in Nova Scotia, Canada. Always pursueing his dream of creating animations people'd watch in Theaters. He grew up drawing his whole life, practicing and becoming better and better. In fact, he carried a small notebook, a pencil sharpener, and two pencils at all times. Finally, after finishing colledge he landed himself a job in New York, so that's where he headed.
Personality: Friendly, yet shy around new people. Likes to believe that, if you believe something is possible. It's possible. He is a humorous, and lighthearted individual. But there is much, much more to his mind than that.
The Last Thing I Remember: Getting off the plane in New York, and going to his uncle's house. He had planned to stay there for a bit until he got himself settled. It was the same night he had arrived in New York he disappeared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Username: Ayllin
RP Name: Edric (Cecilia) Torrez
Age: 23
Occupation: drag queen
Weapon Carried: His platform, spiked heels.
Biography: Growing up in Los Angeles with two mothers, Jade was exposed to gay-culture all his life. He always liked dressing up as a girl when he was a young boy, which got him ridiculed and made fun of all of his life. By high school, he'd embraced his personality and switched genders day to day depending on what he felt like. His warm friendly demenor made him plenty of friends, yet he's used to dealing with haters as well. Although he has fully accepted himself, it still hurts when others avoid him because of his alternative lifestyle.
Personality: He acts very self-confident and sassy, but is kind to everyone, even those who hate him. Flamboyant and carefree, he knows that he is more of a man than any woman could hope for, and more of a woman than her too. However, he's a bit of a scardy-cat when it comes to his current situation.
The Last Thing I Remember: accepting a ride home with the kind man one night after a show.
PostPosted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 12:51 pm


The Locale


The town is rather small, consisting of exactly 500 buildings. Which includes the clock tower and town hall, located in the direct center of the town. The town branches out into a nearly perfect circle from there, and is surrounded by a forest with only two roads out. North and South. The military's quarantine is set up based on these roads, but has guards posted all through the town and around it. But even if you get past them and into the forest, the same creatures that roam the shadowy streets are found here in abundance. Getting out alive will prove near impossible, with the survivors armed only with a small lantern. Good Luck!

Epic Irony

Profitable Prophet


Epic Irony

Profitable Prophet

PostPosted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 1:12 pm


OPEN!
PostPosted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 1:50 pm


A soft groan could be heard as a pair of hazel eyes opened up, squinting at first. The woman wriggled around, the sound and feel of the hay beneath her startling her from her daze. Her eyes gradually blinked open, and they moved to the side where they caught the sight of yellow hay beneath her body. Her brow knit with curiosity, and she slowly began to push herself so that she was sitting upright. She looked down at the hay again, and her rough, black oil covered hands ran through the rough product below. Her face was dirty as well, and although she did not look manly, she wasn't the picture perfect femme fatale, either.

She wore no make-up on her face, and smears of dirt and oil were found here and there on her cheeks and forehead. Her hair was rather short, and blonde. It was messy and though it didn't look very dirty, it went every which way and was rather unkempt looking. Her skin was sun kissed and her arms were not buff, but looked toned. She wore an old looking black, loose fitting tank top in which she had tucked into her baggy, dirty jeans. She had a brown leather belt holding up her pants, and a light jacket tied about her waist. Her feet daunted a pair of bulky looking, tan work boots that looked to have a few years on them. The bottoms of her jean pants were tucked inside of them, as well.

As the girl's eyes scanned the area around her, she attempted to take in her current situation. What was she doing here? How had she gotten here? She knew she hadn't been drunk and passed out (which at the time had seemed the only explanation), because she distinctly remembered she had just been at work what seemed like a moment ago.

"s**t..." She cursed under her breath, her raspy voice whispering through the darkness to her ears. She closed her eyes, and brought her hands up to her head, and ran her fingers through her short, blonde hair. She sniffled, and let out a grumbling sound as she brought her knees up, and rested her arms on top of them as she sat in the hay still.

She looked around herself, and found she was in a rather large barn. It was night out, and it appeared there wasn't much movement around her. She wasn't entirely sure what she should do, so she decided to just go with whatever came to mind. And the first thing that came to her was to get out of this filthy hay stack.

She pushed herself up off of the ground, and took in a deep breath. She stretched her arms toward the ceiling of the barn, and let out her air from her lung.

"Whew!" She breathed as she let her arms swing at her sides, and she took another look around, "My drinking habit must finally be getting to my brain," She said, almost dismissing the situation. She turned around, and found a small lantern at her feet. She reached down and picked it up. She turned it round and round, eyeing the object curiously. One of her hands kept hold of the lantern as the other reached behind her, and she ran her fingers over the cold metal that belonged to the wrench she had stuck into the back of her pants just before she had stepped out of the shop earlier.

She brought the exploring hand back to her side, and she let out a yawn as she began to walk forward. She felt her boots hit something on the ground below her, and she turned her head down to see what it had been she had stumbled on.

Kira_Tatahashi


Epic Irony

Profitable Prophet

PostPosted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 7:59 pm


Chris woke up to a kick in the ribs. Not uncommon, seeing as he slept in a one bedroom apartment with his girlfriend and she was currently very pissed at him. He must have rolled off the couch in his sleep... But wait a second. He had been getting in his car, about to drive down to the bar to play a gig with his band. With a grunt, he sat up and rubbed his eyes drowsily. "Ughnn..." When they finally opened, Chris' eyes found themselves looking at the inside of a barn, it seemed. "What the hell?" he mumbled sleepily. It was then that he noticed... His head was killing him. Not in a particular spot, but a tremendous pressure behind his eyes... A migraine. "Gah... s**t. This is just f**king perfect," he muttered, shutting his eyes quickly against the only light source in the room; a lamp, who had been held by...

"Hey, you. Where the hell am I?" he asked, not particularly concerned about the other details of his disappearance. In fact, the almost casual way he asked the question suggested that not only did he not care, he almost didn't want to know.
PostPosted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 8:12 pm


The blonde woman eyed the man on the floor curiously. He seemed just as disgruntled as she had been when she had first woken from her slumber. And from his words, it also seemed he had woken up here without a memory as to how he'd gotten there in the first place. And she would have been more than glad to help him up from his seat on the dirty floor of the barn, but that tone he had just used...

"Hey, a*****e! Don't call me you, alright!" She growled at him in a demanding tone. She scoffed at him, a disgusted look on her face. She brought the lantern closer to the man's face to take a good look at him. He seemed to be in pain. Perhaps he had hit his head. But, now that he mentioned it, her head wasn't feeling so great, either. But, unlike this guy, she wouldn't be whining like a little child.

She sighed again and tapped his side with her work boots, "Get the hell up, and stop your whining, you big baby. Show some goddamn manners, and maybe you'd get some in return," She said as she turned away from him, a bit perturbed at the man. She turned to her side, the light of the lamp following a she did so. She tried looking around the barn, but her lamp wasn't enough to see very much more than what was right in front of her.

"It looks like we're in a barn," She started. She was, to tell the truth, just as bewildered about this situation as the man on the floor, though she wouldn't admit it. She reached into her pants pocket, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She opened it using only her free hand, and let out a sigh when she saw it was empty. She tossed the paper box to her side, and then turned back around to look at the man. After a moment of contemplation, she reached her arm out, and offered her hand to him.

"The name's Rebecca," She said, her roughness still present, but a bit more bearable, "And you are...?"

Kira_Tatahashi


Epic Irony

Profitable Prophet

PostPosted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 8:23 pm


Chris raised an eyebrow at the plainly angry female yelling at him. Yeah, as if I don't get enough of that at home... But she was talking rather loud, and that certainly didn't help his migraine. He grimaced a bit, forcing it down. His ears were starting to ring, and he grumbled. Next came the worst parts, nosebleeds and vomit. Migraines were never pretty... But at least the angry female seemed to be calming down a bit. She offered a helping hand, and introduced herself as Rebecca.

He closed his eyes for the moment, muttering quietly, "I'm Chris... Is there a guitar anywhere in here?" he asked, frowning. That guitar was worth about twelve thousand dollars. He would be pissed if it was lost... But he shook the thought from his head, took her hand and fumbled to his feet. He patted his pants pockets, to check if his other important items were on him... Wallet, check. Cell phone, check. Keys, check. Switchblade, check. Everything he had on him was still there, that was a plus... Back to the matter at hand. "So, um... How'd we get here?"
PostPosted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 8:40 pm


The blonde, now revealed as a woman by the name of Rebecca, grabbed hold of the man's hand tightly in her own and pulled up up to his feet quickly. From how his state, it looked rather sick. Perhaps she should have taken it a little easier on him, seeing as how he was in pain. Or so it seemed to her.

After bringing him to his feet, she watched him patting his pockets down frantically. His first question almost made laughter rise from her mouth, but she merely smirked at him, and turned her eyes away again to look around. If he had seriously been asking about the instrument, he would look for it on his own instead of just enlisting the help of her.

She placed her free hand on her hip, and looked back at the man from over her shoulder. She let out a sigh, and shook her head as he asked his second question. She found herself now turning back to him again. She didn't seem to know where to position herself in her confusion.

"Nah, I've honestly got no clue how we ended up in here," She replied to him, her hazel eyes looking over at him through the dim light her lamp had provided, "I was actually going to ask you the same thing. Go figure, eh?" She said, a chuckle rising from her chest, "I know this is probably a stupid question to ask considering your pretty boy exterior, but you don't happen to smoke, do you?" She asked, half joking, but also very much half serious, "In a strange situation like this, my body starts craving it."

Kira_Tatahashi


Epic Irony

Profitable Prophet

PostPosted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 8:43 pm


Chris raised an eyebrow. Pretty boy? Maybe the dim lighting was affecting her vision. Greasy hair, uncombed, dirty clothes that were probably stained all to hell. Ripped up jeans, and an unzipped black hoodie over a light gray shirt with a skull. Not exactly 'pretty boy' material, last time he had checked... But, whatever. "Nah, I don't smoke. My uncle smoked, and he died." He smirked despite himself, hoping she'd ask what they all asked, 'What, lung cancer?'
PostPosted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 8:55 pm


Rebecca looked over at the man and gave him another once over. From the look of him, he was a punk. Yeah, maybe they liked the same kind of music from the way he dressed, but they were leagues away from each other. He looked like he was still holding onto some sort of rebellious youth left over from his teen years. Perhaps mom and dad had been too much for him to handle, what with yelling at him about homework and such. She scoffed again, and turned her eyes away. It was just too much for her to handle. She was so tempted to tear him apart right then and there for smirking at her like that.

"I didn't ask about your damn uncle," She replied, her rough tone back again as she spoke, "I'm sure by the cocky look on your face you've got some horribly amusing story you're just unbelievably antsy to get off of your chest, but listen here, kid," She said as she looked directly at him again. Yeah, sure. He didn't look much younger than her, but she knew she was far beyond his mental age. She had been an adult since her mid-teens, and this little punk didn't look like he could control his own childish games, let alone pay bills. Either way, she continued, "I didn't show up here with you by choice, so why don't you keep your little tales to yourself," She said, very much apparently uninterested.

Kira_Tatahashi


Epic Irony

Profitable Prophet

PostPosted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 9:04 pm


It was odd, Chris found this response even more entertaining than if she had asked. "Actually, he got struck by lighting when he took a smoke-break," Chris said, finishing the story despite Rebecca telling him not to. The fact that this was actually true only made him grin to himself even more, despite the very un-funny situation he had been placed in. After a moment of indulging his playful side, he began looking around and sizing up the situation. The barn they were in was rather large, and the small lantern that Rebecca was holding didn't light more than maybe seven feet in all directions. A tiny patch compared to the size of the barn that Chris could see, just beyond the light. It was dark, but it wasn't pitch black...
PostPosted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 9:59 pm


Roger was in a corner and there was a lihgt. That was all he knew. But his friends knew he was in a wonderland of darkness and the princess of strawberry delights was waiting in the light. Or so they told him. He did not believe them. Roger stood up with out the asstiance of his hands and with great ease. The only reason why he did this was because he was in a strantjacket. It was something he found himself in often and has gotten use to it. He stumbled towards the light he saw in a clumsy haste.

His head was hurting like never before after his medicine that made him sleep. This time his friends must have stayed awake and threw a crazy party. He never like their parties, they kept him awake all night. When roger was closing in on the light, he saw peoples. real peoples. He fell in to the light and rolled on to his back. He had a blank look in his eyes as he stared at the cieling. "Hello peoples! How beith everyone this fine eveing!" He spat out not shifting his stare. He then stood up again and and got uncomfortly close. Roger took a big sniff of the greasy floor man. "Nope. You do not smell fo strawberries. Nore does the straw lady over there." He stated bending over and looking at her between his legs. his friends were dissapointed.

Imortal Sam R I


Epic Irony

Profitable Prophet

PostPosted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 10:05 pm


"Um... I beith fine," Chris answered, raising an eyebrow at the crazy guy. Then the dude sniffed him, and he frowned. "Dude, really? What are you smelling me for?" He wasn't totally intolerant, but when people started sniffing him it kinda creeped him out. And this guy was already in a straitjacket... Which meant he really was crazy. That was a very interesting twist to this already massively confusing period. So, he was stuck in a barn, having no idea how he got there, with an extreme tomboy mechanic, and a lunatic who was rolling on the floor talking about strawberries. "******** perfect..."
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