Forums » General Roleplay » Peachy Springs: Introductions

Welcome to Peachy Springs!

Your car broke down, you ran out of bus fare, or maybe you're on your honeymoon, and you got terribly, woefully lost. Whatever the reason, you find yourself here, in Peachy Springs: a sleepy little town you'll never want to leave. It's a quaint city that's never quite left the 1950's. Nothing is out of the ordinary, as there's nothing ordinary to begin with. Enjoy this picturesque stop between miles of highway. Miles, and miles, and miles of highway.

There seems to be a preponderance of frogs, here. At least the locals seem friendly.

To apply/see more info for this game, check out this topic.

This is an introduction thread, wherein your character happens upon the town. You can describe how you got here, who you are, and what you think of this fine little town. The town (me) will respond to your character's arrival. To keep things clean at first, this will be solos for your characters interacting with the town. I will post new threads with locations where you can interact with other characters.

Diamond swung the taxi door open and stepped out into the rain. He popped his coat collar and pulled his hat brim lower on his face. The air was chill, and took his breath away at first. The cab driver looked over his shoulder uneasily.

"You sure this is the place?"

Thunder boomed overhead, causing the cabby to jump nervously. Diamond looked around, his senses furiously sending information to his brain. At first glance, the place looked like a quaint little town, like Mayberry or something. Except something was wrong - he could feel it. The town looked cute, quiet, the denizens all retreated to their homes for the storm. But it was too still, it had a sense of looming darkness to it. And a tingle began to run up and down his spine. He had felt it before. He knew what was happening. Something was here, making its dwelling among the little homes and shops. Something sinister.

"Yeah." His cockney accent was barely audible over the sound of the thunderstorm. "This is the place."

He handed a wad of cash to the driver, who sped off without a second look. Diamond shouldered his bag and made his way towards a building that read BED AND BREAKFAST. He stopped in the middle of the street, and spoke aloud into the darkness.

"I know you're here. I don't know who you are, but I know you are here. I will find you. I will find your secrets. I will find your hiding place."

The howling of the wind and the crashing rain was his only answer.

"Well don't just stand there, silly," called a woman, head poking out from a crack in the door of the Bed and Breakfast. "Come on in! You'll catch your death-of-cold."



The smell of enticingly warm sausage wafted from the woman, quickly doused by the rain. The source of which was no mystery–she wore an outfit that entirely incorporated sausage into its design. Her crown seemed to be a weenie holder of sorts, a few of which were missing from their paper holsters.

"Come in, come in, come in!" the woman urged. "The radiator's blazing, we're still serving brunch, and if you hurry you can still catch a bit of the mayor's address, we're all tuned in!"

Diamond stepped inside, nodding his thanks. He lifted his hat, set his bag down on the wooden floor.

"Very hospitable." He murmured. His left eyebrow raised slightly at the sight of her sausages. Curious. Curious indeed.

"Thank you. I'd like a room, and brunch sounds lovely." He stepped into the parlor, eyeing a group of citizens gathered around a tiny radio.

"What's this mayor of yours addressing, anyways?"

The concierge sashayed over to a table, leaning over to allow one of the patrons to pluck a sausage from her head piece.

"There's a very nasty pothole, he's gonna get it fixed," a nearby patron answered, his head buried in a newspaper.

The radio gurgled and popped incoherently.

A number of guests crowded the lobby, some in their pajamas, some taking advantage of the brunch, while others seemed to have ducked in from the rain. A small group of bird-masked nuns gossiped amongst themselves at a table near the window.

The radio hissed and crackled, spitting out, "---futhermore, as a comm----eed to addr---- owing--- rog---irr--ularities----"

A man, smoking a cigar made from the hollowed out skin of a minnow, smacked the radio in an attempt to calibrate it. It let out a rebellious hiss. Nearby, a woman with a camera had been trying to surreptitiously take a photo of a crack in one of the walls.

The concierge took a break from her sausage duties, to approach a wall of keys. Each was wildly different in size, shape, and metal, a hodgepodge that was a testament to the grand diversity of keys. She plucked a comically small, bright gold key from its hook. "Room 203-B," she announced, jiggling the key from its label. "All yours. How long should I put you down for. A month?"

Diamond chuckled to himself. "Oh I should hope I'm not here that long. But yes, go ahead and book me for a month. At least I hope your precious pothole will be fixed up by then. Unless...but never mind..." He trailed off, drawn to the mysterious girl snapping photos of the wall. He gestured towards her as Sausage Lady was turning away.

"Erm, excuse me? Could you tell me why she has taken such an interest in your wallpaper?"

The concierge jotted something down on a record book. "Mm. I'll put you down for a couple weeks," she said, with a hint of pity. Looking up from her book (but not too quickly, so as not to disturb the sausages), she peered at the photographer.

"Oh, search me. She'd better not put it in that trashy paper of hers. HEY SAMANTHA. YOU'D BETTER NOT PUT THAT IN YOUR TRASHY PAPER."

The photographer jumped at the interruption. She probed a finger along the wall. "You have a crack, here," she observed mildly.

Diamond shook his head. This place just got stranger by the minute. And he hadn't even checked into his room yet. He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a curious watch with ten hands, not two.

"Good heavens. It's midnight." He looked up at the civilians chatting and eating and reading and...dear lord, was that fellow actually barking like a dog? He felt better to assume it was a funny-sounding cough.

"I'm going to run my bag to my room." He said, jingling the key.

He made his way up the creaky stairs to the upper hallway. He stopped, feeling surprised but knowing he shouldn't. Every door on the level was wildly different, just like the keys had been. Tall, round, green, wooden, iron, black, tiny...

"What a curious place." He murmured. He'd faced plenty of dark and strange things in his long life, but never anything as eerie as this. He found his room and opened the door. He blinked and took a second look at his room.

It was dark, like a cozy little hole in the ground. A sign hung on the wall, proclaiming in crude letters that this was THE BUNNY FAMILY BUNNY HOLE. A fireplace had a roaring fire in it, which was odd, but the strangest thing was a picture on the wall, featuring a family of rabbits. His spine tingled again. He set down his bag and headed right down to the Sausage lady.

"Miss? What time is a good time to head outdoors? I wouldn't want to be breaking any curfew rules."

The concierge took a bite from one of her sausages.

"Hmmm, well, the frogs are on the other side of town right now. But I don't think many stores are open. Are you needing something, sugar?"

The door bust open, letting in the sound of pounding rain. A tall, blond androgyne, dressed to the nines, shoulders his way into the establishment, with a shake of his umbrella. Carried at his side is a shiny black nightstick.

A few guests shoot a wary look his way, while others pay him no mind.

Diamond studied the fellow from the corner of his eye. He was getting very uncomfortable in this place. He tipped his cap, buttoned his coat and nodded.

"I think I shall take a stroll around town." He said quietly to Sausage Girl. "Get to know the place a bit. I'm not tired, jet lag and all that. Maybe I'll go say hello to your frogs." He gave her a little wink and stepped outside, into the darkness. The rain had stopped, and a loud croaking was echoing throughout the town.

"Poor feller," the sausage woman murmured, after the man had departed.

The shutter of the camera snapped again, followed by the concierge calling out, "WOULD YA KNOCK THAT OFF?"

Outside, the city was mostly deserted, due to the rain. A few unfortunate souls stuck out in the downpour scurried by, shielding their heads with newspapers. One such newspaper littered the street, declaring in bold letters, "THE PEACHY PRESG," most likely a misprint, or an S that had gone runny from the rain.

A pair of young twins, a girl and a boy, skipped down the street in perfect unison, oblivious to the rain, or time of night. A frog missing a leg hopped desperately down the street, eager to catch up with the swarm that could be heard off in the distance.

Diamond wandered, aimlessly it seemed, though his route was carefully planned. His wide brimmed hat and heavy overcoat kept him dry, though it was difficult to see through the wet weather. He plodded past a grocery store, an ice cream parlor, and a little rundown library. Taking note of everything in his mind, he made his way up and down the little town. It didn't take long to figure out the basic layout of the place.

It reminded him of a small village in eastern Europe he had visited many years ago. Odd folks there too, he mused. It was indeed odd that so many citizens were out and about in this weather, at this time of night. He figured he might as well investigate the library for any clues on his lead.

The library was small, cramped, and smelled of musty old books. Books that were piled everywhere, stacks taller than himself, blocking the entrances to the aisles. The librarian, a tiny woman with huge buggy eyes and spectacles glanced up from a tome that appeared to read "The Life and Times of Bartimus Cramer, and other stories of horror."

"Can I help you?" She asked.

"Just browsing." He flashed a wan smile, then began perusing the shelves. He did a double take at the section titles. "Vampires" "Cooking eggs" "Wooden Boats" and "Everyday life in Tangeria" were just a few sections of books. Outside, the croaking of the frogs was growing louder.

"So, the bullfrogs are happy about all this rain, eh?" He called over his shoulder to the librarian.

"The bullfrogs? Oh, the frogs, yes. I suppose they do enjoy the rain. Electrolucia's lake must be overflowing. I expect they should be outside any minute, it is almost a half past. You're welcome to stay until they move along, though you'll need to check something out," the librarian droned.

A wet "thunk" could be heard, as a frog smacked against the glass door.

The librarian shook her head. "Always trying to get in here. They're worse than the AA's."

He shook his head. "Sorry, the what?" He plopped down what appeared to be a guide to the region and local customs. "Is there something going on in this place? Some event?" He gave her a friendly, though probing, look.