Forums » General Roleplay » The Midnight Pier..

12:00 AM.. Midnight.. Most people would have been warm and snug in their beds at this hour, but for Edgar Phillips King, the day had only just begun. An amnesia victim, the bone white lapine could not even remember his own name. Discovered two months prior, half-drowned and unconscious, drifting near a pier in North-Western Cheshire City. It was fortunate the thirty-something year old male happened to be found with both his wallet and ID still intact. Yet, without any memory of who he was, or how on earth he found himself plunging to the great abyss, it brought him very little comfort.. After five long weeks of unsuccessful therapy Edgar was finally assigned with a new occupation to cope with his acute memory loss. Night-Time Watchmen.. Positioned barely a few hundred feet where the accident presumably occurred. The self-inflicted insomniac could not think of a more fitting job to soothe his constantly ticking brain. Still, as days slowly drifted on into weeks, and weeks into months, Edgar could not remember a single thing before the accident.. Originally a resident in the suburbs of Cheshire City, the troubled rabbit instead chose to pay rent at a slummy rundown motel, unable to seek comfort in his skeleton of a home...

Click! Edgar brought the golden lighter near his mouth and ignited the edge of his low-grade cigarette before inhaling generously. His thin frame spilled into an uncomfortable looking crouch as he calmly exhaled the smoke from his lungs. He had not seen a single soul since he first checked in to begin his rounds, but that did not unnerve him in the slightest. At this time of night the docks often resembled something one might expect to read about in a macabre novel. It was dark, damp, and polluted with garbage despite the obvious sign near the entrance clearly stating "No Dumping, 5,000$ Fine.." No one cared about the old dock, and those who did were simply paying for its services without any other options. A slimy, decrepit fossil just begging to make it onto the government pay roll..

Cracking his neck as he stood the lapine grunted softly and proceeded with his duties toward the northern pier, flickering boringly with his lighter in hand as his mind raced with thought. A light drizzle pouring down onto his long sensitive ears as the fog slowly crept in like some god awful horror film. "Spooky.." He muttered half-heartedly, inhaling deeply once again before shaking the excess ash from his cigarette with a flick of the wrist. Edgar might have been disturbed by the unsettling scenery had the accident not been absorbing most of his daily thoughts. Though, perhaps it was something else entirely that left him unafraid of such things. The lapine often carried an aura of guilt, something he denied even to his therapist upon being questioned about his heavy-hearted expressions. Edgar had a secret, something he was not willing to share with others. It was not that he was being deceitful, but that he was unsure of the consequences that would follow.

Dreams, no.. Nightmares.. If you could even call them that.. It was the main reason the lapine avoided sleeping for any length of time. Terrible visions driven by violent acts of unspeakable atrocities, accompanied by the blood curdling screams of helpless victims. Faces, both familiar and unfamiliar butchered before his eyes like timid livestock. Always ending with the killer looking down at his leather gloved hands in a sick display of twisted gratification from the beast's own eyes. Edgar would often wake at all hours of the night, dragging his body from bed in a cold and shaky sweat to the bathroom, where he would vomit over the toilet profusely. Unable to stomach the unholy acts of slaughter projecting deep within his twitching brain. There was no way he was going to tell anyone of the gruesome images without first dissecting them thoroughly for himself. Unfortunately Edgar had never been much of an artist when it came to drawing, and writing down descriptions just felt pointless. If these diabolical, repulsive visages of horror had any connection to the physical world he was going to need a name or address.. Something familiar that would convince him it was more than a mere dream. Despite the chilling prospect of his nightmares becoming a reality, the rabbit chose a somewhat affective alternative - Don't sleep..

Splash! Edgar gasped in surprise, dropping his prized lighter onto the soggy deck while fumbling backward from lack of balance. His head snapping back immediately, half expecting some great sea-monster to emerge before him. The lapine would only mutter under his breath upon catching the slight glimpse of a swishing tail, watching as it plunged back beneath the murky depths, as if intentionally mocking the sleep deprived watchmen for being the new guy. "You're lucky I don't eat fish, Buddy.." Grimacing at his embarrassing antics the lapine would reach down to collect his favored device. Checking its golden surface intently for any dents or scratches before stuffing it safely back into his breast pocket where it belonged. "This is going to be one of those nights.." Already he could feel the inner workings of a mind-numbing migraine creeping up from the depths of his skull. It seemed right on queue with the dreadful weather, which came as no surprise at all. No longer distracted, the white rabbit took yet another long inhale from his cigarette before tossing it over the rail and reluctantly continued with his rounds.

(To those who have not gotten the jist of things after reading both this and my Edgar King character profile. This will be a fully-modern, realistic, Anthropomorphic role-play. All that you require is a basic knowledge of Anthropomorphic characters and at least some experience role-playing in a modern setting.)

Flash…Flash…Flash…Flash…and the camera’s assault halted for a moment. “Come on…you look like you want to kill someone…lighten up,” came the frustrated growl of a Dalmatian male. The petite Island Fox female did her best to hide the grimace on her face, but her attempt was only half-successful. She knew what he wanted. In fact, it was that burden that brought her freshly manicured nails to dig slightly into the black leather couch as she shifted positions. With her stomach now resting against the couch, her left hindpaw was draped against the hardwood floor with her right caressing against the back of the couch almost lazily. “There you go! That’s what I like to see!” He was so easy to please, disgustingly easy. This time, the female canine hid the grimace, but what the camera captured would most certainly not be the enthralled and alluring expression of an eager vixen. Though, the male would not be taking pictures of her face anyway…he cared about one thing. Two actually…money and the parts of her body that made the most…

Two hours later, the shoot was done and Casan was still in a rather sour mood. The least amount of time she had to spend around that spotted, over-sexed mutt, the better. This particular week, however, three times of having to put up with him was her limit. Just as she was thinking that she was ready to leave, having gotten a shower, gotten dressed, and retrieved her purse and keys, the female’s deep brown gaze caught sight of the Dalmatian standing in the doorway that led into the living room. She knew that she was not getting out of the apartment without him saying goodbye…

No one cared enough to complain or call the police. The neighbors were all too accustomed to the sounds of various objects hitting the floor, the bed rhythmically pounding against the wall, and the wayward howls of a male enjoying himself. After all, that is all that they figured it was…a lucky dog he was indeed. Even the fox had to admit that he was the poster-child for calm, cool, and collected as she watched him get ready to leave the bedroom. A black leather trench-coat, a pressed black and white dress shirt, and a pair of dress slacks complimented his strong build quite well. Only the slow wagging of his spotted tail against her nose as he moved from the bed after placing a kiss on her forehead would give it away that he was anything less than business-class perfect. Finally, she heard the door close behind him, and the young fox was left with her thoughts…the softness of smiles on her muzzle as she drifted off to sleep.

Four hours previously, the petite vixen had been quite warm within the confines of her traumatized body and the rich bedding that had been her prison. Now, as she walked along the docks, her dark blue knee-length skirt and grey chiffon blouse felt like they were sticking to her fur as warmth was replaced with the stifling heat of a mid-summer night. The clicking of her heels against the mix of wood, steel, and concrete that lay underfoot was almost cathartic; as were the illumination lain upon the water’s surface by the city surrounding the area. She loved to come out here after a hard day. Though her thoughts were usually not made any clearer when she did so, hearing the water lapping against the piers pylons along with the gentle rocking of the few ships and boats that were present just seemed to make things better somehow.

Tonight though, as her languid gaze caught sight of a white rabbit shadowed within the darkness, the 4’11’’ tall fox resigned herself to the fact that she would not get her usual time alone. The vixen did not remember seeing the thin-framed rabbit before, but this was one of the few times that she came to the pier. Usually, she just meandered around the innermost portion of the docks when it was this late. For a moment, the young fox did not move as she did her best to assess the rabbit’s intent from vantage point. Not exactly feeling that he was friendly but not feeling that he would harm her either, the female approached. The clicking of her heels against the wooden planks was unsteady and irregular, but the canine was hoping that the rabbit would see that as more her being unbalanced than nervous. “So…um…it’s not too often I see someone out here…” came her soft but slightly shaky tone. “Are you alright?” It seemed like a natural-enough question, but the fox still kept a distance of about 12 feet or so between them when she stopped.

(*grins* Have fun...)

The dreary looking lapine turned to meet the unfamiliar voice with a somewhat spooked expression. His shabby trench coat and drab looking hat almost black now due to the dampness. A single hand rummaging through his breast pocket while peering at the approaching stranger with caution. "Yeah.. I'm fine.." He answered gruffly, still examining her inappropriate choice of clothing, obviously confused as to what a provocatively dressed young female was doing on the decaying pier at all hours of the night. He could make a few crude guesses, but the lack of confidence in her tone perplexed him enough to keep from making such brash assumptions. "Mm.. You probably come here a bit earlier.. I see Eddie off at 12' then I'm here till 6'.. Been here a month or so.." He shrugged, allowing her to move closer at her own pace. Edgar spoke with a slight rasp that managed to complement an already deep voice. Because of this, his stature, although tall and thin, usually became somewhat more foreboding upon hearing him speak. The lapine had grown increasingly antisocial since his recovery, and it showed through his tense body language and constantly vacant expression. "I'm the new Watchmen.." He added with a slight hint of authority, observing her reaction curiously before slinking his hand out into the open with another cigarette grasped tightly between his fingers. "You're out here kind of late aren't you.."

Not wanting to let his suspicious get the best of him Edgar cast his gaze out onto the water, unsure if he was coming on too strong. In truth the lapine cared very little about the importance his occupation entailed. He could count on one hand the number of actual trouble-makers that had found their way onto the dock. Teenagers seeking a good thrill mostly. Edgar's mind drifted off momentarily upon remembering a particular young rodent who had managed to break into one of the many old yachts docking near the pier. He had barely even raised his voice to scold the boy when the youngster took off running passed him. Bashing his small head against the low roof before taking off like a shot in a frightful fit of high-pitched squeaks. The newly acquainted Watchmen laughed until his stomach cramped, not even bothering to inform his elderly superior of the intrusion.

CLICK.. Click.. click.. Edgar struggled with the igniting mechanism grimacing with distraught until all at once a sudden spurt of flame would present itself. Sighing in relief the lapine quickly lit the butt of his cigarette and inhaled vigorously before the flame could go out. He had exhausted nearly an entire package of the low-grade coffin nails in less than 12 hours. It was not that he did not care about his health, but that smoking somehow reminded him of who he might have been before the accident. In a way, breaking the habit felt similar to giving up on life. An irony even his own therapist found palpable at times. "Nmm.." Wincing slightly in irritation the white rabbit covered his eyes with the brim of his lightly soaked fedora. The sharp pain of a migraine finally deciding to rear its ugly head. His inner skull quickly growing agitated by the pulse like throbbing which somehow managed to allude his pharmaceutical prescription like a creeping parasite. Despite his discomfort, however, the lapine maintained a steady composure, hoping to mask his distress with that blank expression he always wore. It occurred to him that he could very easily request the young fox to leave should his paranoia escalate, yet nothing about her physical appearance warranted anything out of the ordinary, except for her being there of course. Exhaling the excess smoke from his lungs Edgar waited patiently, not wanting to startle the girl, who already appeared to be cautious of his own presence.