flowers shall grow
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Shadow of the Day
Somewhere in the quiet suburbs, or the busy city, or anywhere else that people dwell, a crow hits a window and breaks its neck. One of the neighborhood kids finds the 'dead' crow and decides to keep it in the way that morbid kids are won't to. They tuck it in a shoe box in their closet or under their bed and forget about it.
Then strange things start to happen. Rover, buried last week, digs his way up out of his grave. Grandma comes home from her funeral looking for her teeth. The crazed serial killer on death row laughs and laughs as the prison guards electrocute him but he doesn't die. The truly bizarre and frankly disturbing phenomena only seems to be happening in this one town, and the closer to the kid's house one gets, the stranger things become, until the spirit world itself seems to bleed into the living one.
Our characters are sent to investigate, or perhaps they are individually looking into it and meet up. Either way, if the dead are going to stay dead, a solution to this mystery must be found, and fast.
Besides Tobias, I am willing to offer up π― Krepta, π― Hellboy, or Eda Clawthorne (Owl House - tentatively. I really have to be in the mood).
In terms of original characters, I would love to play with π― any mystics, magicians, noir detectives, or monsters/vampires. Canon wise, π― Constantine (DC Comics), π― Hellboy (Hellboy), π― Abe Sapien (Hellboy), π― Zatanna (DC Comics), π― Doctor Fate (DC Comics), π― Jason Blood/Etrigan (DC Comics), π― Raven (DC Comics), π― Doctor Strange (Marvel Comics), or π― Eda Clawthorne (Owl House) would be fun for this plot.
Ghost Town
It's said that the ghost town known as Whistling Ridge comes alive every night at the witching hour. A group of teenagers have stayed overnight and discovered this to be true, and now they're trapped in the October Lands. Our characters must retrieve them and bring them home. The problem is, one of the kids doesn't want to come home and Tobias has invited them to stay.
Besides Tobias, I am willing to offer up π― Krepta, π― Hellboy, or Eda Clawthorne (Owl House - tentatively. I really have to be in the mood).
In terms of original characters, I would love to play with π― any mystics, magicians, or monsters/vampires capable of traveling to the afterlife/astral realm. Canon wise, π― Constantine (DC Comics), π― Hellboy (Hellboy), π― Zatanna (DC Comics), π― Doctor Fate (DC Comics), π― Raven (DC Comics), π― Doctor Strange (Marvel Comics), or π― Eda Clawthorne (Owl House) would be fun for this plot.
The Cobweb Hotel
The abandoned hotel down the street is not so abandoned after all. Several denizens from the De Lune Troupe have found themselves stranded after missing their 'train' so to speak to get back home and they are using it as sanctuary until the next doorway opens during the next full moon at midnight. In the meantime, they have to re-learn how to live outside of the circus and tend to their needs in a world where ghosts and monsters aren't supposed to exist.
I don't have too many fleshed out characters for this, but I can offer π― a buff werewolf lady, π― dad-wolf, π― overly curious telepathic werewolf (psi-wolf) teen, π― a grumpy kelpie man, π― a sparrow shifter lady, π― or a human jackalope wrangler and her large, rideable jackalope.
I would love to play with π― a vampire, π― a fae character, π― any folklore monsters, π― a plant/fungi monster.
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*A friendly note that these samples are a little dated. Tobias has been hibernating for a couple of years. <3 I'll update as I play him more. Click the gravestones to expand!
πΈ Sample One
The shadow in the booth stayed a shadow, even as they passed over the gun and-- were those real bullets? It was hard to tell, but they certainly looked like it. Even as the figure got that close though, eyes seemed to fail to focus on them, as if the light inside the booth was simply too dim, and yet one could see all the shiny, colorfully lit targets behind them. The figure said nothing, and retreated back into the gloom behind the booth to watch with baleful eyes.
Someone behind Floyd seemed a touch more talkative though. A cheerful voice rang out, the rasping laugh of a crows call, somehow condensed into words. "Oh-ho, a sharpshooter, hm--?"
The voice belonged to a tall and rangy man, with long, raven colored hair that tangled and curled about his shoulders beneath the jauntily placed top hat atop his head. The man's button black eyes flashed as he canted his head at Floyd, just to the left of one shoulder. Had he been there the enter time?
"And a spook to boot? Are you sure you don't belong here with us?" he wheedled jovially, perhaps a little too much so, despite the fact that Floyd was not in costume. "There's always room for one more."
"You," growled another, much deeper voice. There was a stout man stalking his way towards them through the crowd. His brown eyes were dark with anger and his brown hair was mussed to one side, as if he had walked through quite a wind to get here. "YOU."
"Me?" The ringmaster echoed in mock distress. He looked down at Floyd, then nodded sagely. "Me, I suppose. But enough about me, what about you?"
The newcomer managed, somehow, to look even more irritated. A vein on the side of one temple stood out starkly in the weird light for a moment as he stopped and clenched both teeth and fists. "Would you stay still? I have some questions for you!"πΈ Sample Two
"You're very good at scaring people."
The voice that spoke from somewhere just left of Heretic's shoulder was like the creak of the wind through an old and empty house. The presence of bonfire smoke and sweet rotting leaves seemed to intensify there for a moment before a cold breeze blew it away. There was nothing there of course. Like so many other residents of the circus, the voice remained unseen.
"Have you ever considered using your talents to pursue gainful employment? I could pay you in funnel cake."
The voice tittered, sounding again a moment later from somewhere in the darkness that pooled between the ancient old oaks that framed the midway's main walkways. The trees were bigger than even Heretic, and likely older too. There was a sense that they were quietly peering down at them, like arthritic old men watching children at play.
One of the shadows separated itself from the rest, becoming a lanky figure of willowy stature and angular joints. He was wearing a coat and tails and striped slacks, and there was a small top hat balanced precariously upon the nest of dark hair atop his head. He grinned up at Heretic with just slightly too many teeth, the low violet glow of his eyes burning in the semi-dark.
"Or perhaps bumper stickers," he mused, and the odd man leaned his body forward to get a better look at himself in the reflective surface of Heretic's leg. He really should have toppled over with that angle he was standing at, but gravity seemed to pay the man no mind as he stuck his tongue out at his own reflection, briefly distracted before leaning back the other way to look up and up at Heretic's face, his expression suddenly solemn and appraising.
"How is your driving?"πΈ Sample Three
Fallen leaves underfoot, rain upon the stone, burnt sugar and distant smoke. Tobias smelled more like a place than a person. There were no sweat smells, no signs of natural bodily functions or recent meals. He did have a scent that put him apart from his surroundings; he wasn't invisible to the senses, but living things did not smell the way that he did.
And as Heretic leaned forward to smell the not-man, Tobias mirrored the action, taking several loud sniffs at the foot of those parted jaws before reaching a bird boned hand into the inside of his jacket to pull out a small metal tin. A tiny white mint went sailing into the depths of that serrated maw, flicked by long fingers as Tobias tutted to himself.
"Good sir, I am not Someone, nor is anyone named Someone employed here. We have a Nobody, but he's not in charge of public relations. We tried that last year and it was like trying to talk to thin air. No, no, I'm quite the gourmet of the ghoulish, I assure you, and you have po-ten-tial. It's a shame about the driving though. I could always use more delivery men."
He strutted in a wide circle around Heretic, vanishing, quite literally, the moment he was out of sight, only to reappear nearby at face level, sitting in the crook of one of the nearby oaks.
"We could paint you up. A nice skeleton motif, perhaps--- oooooh, a flaming skeleton. Dear Sable will think it's tacky, of course, but but he still has to do what I say because I'm the boss, aren't I? But really, I think he likes it. He's just too proud to admit to having fun--" Tobias lowered his voice, whispering conspiratorially behind his hand to the mech. "You know... in public."