*speech bubble, slow*
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . . Whaa?
*bright flash, anime glint sound effect, pixelated pan out of some poor kid on a forest floor*
This doesn't seem right...
*kid stands up, looks around, and then suddenly sees something that frightens him that is, surprise, out of the viewers range of sight, beyond the camera. anime flash/glint again, panning out further into a massive overworld, playing Pokemon-esque intro music. two slashing animations cross parallel to each other in opposite directions, again playing a glint/sword clash sound and revealing a very colorful logo:*
RP LAND
ⓒ Oaky Entertainment Inc. all rights reserved.
Press ⓐ to play!
~~~~
Continue from saved file:
RP:
0% Completion
0% Characters met
0 Deaths
0 Plot Twists
ⓐ
Loading. . .
~~~~
There was a boy named Oaky. He was, in fact, not literally named Oaky. That would be silly. But for all intents and purposes let's say his name actually was Oaky. He woke up in a forest one day with no recollection of how he got there! But, dear friends, this is not actually Inception. This is, unfortunately for our dear friend Oaky and his fellow players, real life.
Oaky was wearing, at the time of typing this, a long sleeve, (grey sleeves, white with blue stripes tee) collared tee shirt. He wore a sterling silver necklace with an inscription in Hebrew on it, and he wore Oakley (ha!) prescription eyeglasses. His blue jeans were of a light shade, and on these he wore a belt, which carried a Leatherman Multi-Tool and a CRKT Pocket Knife. On his wrist he wore an Iron Man triathlon watch, which was well worn, but still of usefulness. His hair wasn't messy, but not entirely kempt, and his eyes glowed (not literally, that'd be creepy) a bluish green. Or greenish blue. However you fancy it.
He was sluggish and tired, and didn't really care what was happening for a few minutes, but then he realized: He had been sitting at the computer minutes before! The crazed lad sat up, still rather sluggishly, and tried to recollect his thoughts. He looked around and saw more people (imagine that!) lying there dazed and unconscious on the forest floor as well!
So he decided to sit there and wait. And wait. And wait.
Because, dear players, he was waiting for you.
Because this RP is nothing without its trusty fourth wall breaks. And because, dearest players, those people are your digitized selves.
Have fun!
~Oaky
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . . Whaa?
*bright flash, anime glint sound effect, pixelated pan out of some poor kid on a forest floor*
This doesn't seem right...
*kid stands up, looks around, and then suddenly sees something that frightens him that is, surprise, out of the viewers range of sight, beyond the camera. anime flash/glint again, panning out further into a massive overworld, playing Pokemon-esque intro music. two slashing animations cross parallel to each other in opposite directions, again playing a glint/sword clash sound and revealing a very colorful logo:*
RP LAND
ⓒ Oaky Entertainment Inc. all rights reserved.
Press ⓐ to play!
~~~~
Continue from saved file:
RP:
0% Completion
0% Characters met
0 Deaths
0 Plot Twists
ⓐ
Loading. . .
~~~~
There was a boy named Oaky. He was, in fact, not literally named Oaky. That would be silly. But for all intents and purposes let's say his name actually was Oaky. He woke up in a forest one day with no recollection of how he got there! But, dear friends, this is not actually Inception. This is, unfortunately for our dear friend Oaky and his fellow players, real life.
Oaky was wearing, at the time of typing this, a long sleeve, (grey sleeves, white with blue stripes tee) collared tee shirt. He wore a sterling silver necklace with an inscription in Hebrew on it, and he wore Oakley (ha!) prescription eyeglasses. His blue jeans were of a light shade, and on these he wore a belt, which carried a Leatherman Multi-Tool and a CRKT Pocket Knife. On his wrist he wore an Iron Man triathlon watch, which was well worn, but still of usefulness. His hair wasn't messy, but not entirely kempt, and his eyes glowed (not literally, that'd be creepy) a bluish green. Or greenish blue. However you fancy it.
He was sluggish and tired, and didn't really care what was happening for a few minutes, but then he realized: He had been sitting at the computer minutes before! The crazed lad sat up, still rather sluggishly, and tried to recollect his thoughts. He looked around and saw more people (imagine that!) lying there dazed and unconscious on the forest floor as well!
So he decided to sit there and wait. And wait. And wait.
Because, dear players, he was waiting for you.
Because this RP is nothing without its trusty fourth wall breaks. And because, dearest players, those people are your digitized selves.
Have fun!
~Oaky
Olthain was opening his eyes as well. He looked around dazedly as he took in the environment around him. "What the..." he got up from the ground and leaned against the tree next to him, holding his head until the dizzyness wore off. He looked around again.
Seeing as he had just arrived back home and had changed into comfortable clothes before he sat down at the computer, his outfit was simple. Black wide sweatpants with the words 3RUN written in a vertical order on his lower left leg, an Asking Alexandria Bandshirt, and a gray hoodie made of slightly more thin fabric - the zipper in front halfway down and the sleeves rolled up. He was also wearing a black bonnet, with the cap backwards.
"Where the crap is my room!?" he exclaimed.
Seeing as he had just arrived back home and had changed into comfortable clothes before he sat down at the computer, his outfit was simple. Black wide sweatpants with the words 3RUN written in a vertical order on his lower left leg, an Asking Alexandria Bandshirt, and a gray hoodie made of slightly more thin fabric - the zipper in front halfway down and the sleeves rolled up. He was also wearing a black bonnet, with the cap backwards.
"Where the crap is my room!?" he exclaimed.
There was a young man named Dylan. He too woke up alongside everyone else. His brown hair was a shaggy mess and his beard rather thick, though neatly trimmed. He was a broad and pretty tall guy, though slightly chubby and no impressive muscle to show off. All he could show off with was his more than average amount of body hair. Pretty much this loser minus the hat.
The 20 year old man wore a thick cotton black shirt featuring a skeleton knight on a skeletal horse with a red background. Above that he wore a vest of one of his favorite bands: Finntroll, featuring the drawing of a bog on the clothing's back. His jeans were a dark shade of blue, with in its pockets his wallet, a cellphone, keys and a pack of tissues. His socks were thick and white colored, and as footwear he wore the most ugly slippers in the history of mankind: grey crocks. On his wrist were three linen bracelets featuring three years of visiting Graspop Metal Meeting. He also wore his black wool fingerless gloves which most likely covered two of those bracelets.
When he was transported, he held a glass of water, though when he looked around him, he instantly dropped it, wondering if he was drinking liquid LSD instead.
The 20 year old man wore a thick cotton black shirt featuring a skeleton knight on a skeletal horse with a red background. Above that he wore a vest of one of his favorite bands: Finntroll, featuring the drawing of a bog on the clothing's back. His jeans were a dark shade of blue, with in its pockets his wallet, a cellphone, keys and a pack of tissues. His socks were thick and white colored, and as footwear he wore the most ugly slippers in the history of mankind: grey crocks. On his wrist were three linen bracelets featuring three years of visiting Graspop Metal Meeting. He also wore his black wool fingerless gloves which most likely covered two of those bracelets.
When he was transported, he held a glass of water, though when he looked around him, he instantly dropped it, wondering if he was drinking liquid LSD instead.
Unlike the rest who awoke Sufyan was not near them... No... He fell from the air falling though trees getting hit in the face by branches then landing near the rest "Ouch!" he yelled laying on his back. He shot up but the sudden head rush along with the dizzyness made him walk in circles before tripping over someone
"Mother fuuu" his black hair was a mess "Where am i?" he asked sitting up, he huffed as he saw all the rest laying on the floor unconscious "Wah?" it was all so weird, he was wearing a blue hoodie and black Denim Jeans. "Where'd my chair go?! Why'd i fall from the sky!?"
"Mother fuuu" his black hair was a mess "Where am i?" he asked sitting up, he huffed as he saw all the rest laying on the floor unconscious "Wah?" it was all so weird, he was wearing a blue hoodie and black Denim Jeans. "Where'd my chair go?! Why'd i fall from the sky!?"
He walked inside the house and, after locking the door behind him, sat down and sighed; it had been another day of looking for work, with no results. Dressed in his finest, at least for now, and all the faked interest and optimism he could muster hadn't gotten him any closer to gainful employment. Maybe it was a sign, of what he had no idea, but it was curious how much trouble he had looking for work; maybe it was the green Army trench coat, tan long sleeve shirt, green slacks, and black motorcycle boots that threw people off. Maybe it was the fact that, standing at 6'2" without the boots, broad shoulders, broad chest, otherwise lanky, constantly wearing a blank expression or a scowl, he didn't exactly exude an air of congeniality or friendliness. In any case, he chalked another day up to bad luck, rested his feet for a moment, and closed his eyes to reflect on the day's exploits, or lack thereof.
A crash from the back of the house snapped him to attention, causing him to all but leap from the chair. In his bedroom, he had a flak jacket sandwiched between his nightstand and bed, a machete tucked inside the neck of the flak jacket, and a steel pot helmet sitting atop the machete's handle. But, for better or for worse, he ran to the nightstand itself and pulled out a black combat knife, then readied it with a mirthless expression; when he practiced for this sort of thing, he always threw on the jacket and helmet first, then readied the knife, and then ran down the hall to where the lockbox was with the pistol. Now, though, caught by surprise, he dashed out of the room with only his knife, only to suddenly find himself somewhere which was most certainly not the way to the lockbox, or anywhere which he recognized for that matter. He blinked a few times, his pale blue eyes adjusting to the forest slowly, and slowly lowered the knife. Well, this was...different.
A crash from the back of the house snapped him to attention, causing him to all but leap from the chair. In his bedroom, he had a flak jacket sandwiched between his nightstand and bed, a machete tucked inside the neck of the flak jacket, and a steel pot helmet sitting atop the machete's handle. But, for better or for worse, he ran to the nightstand itself and pulled out a black combat knife, then readied it with a mirthless expression; when he practiced for this sort of thing, he always threw on the jacket and helmet first, then readied the knife, and then ran down the hall to where the lockbox was with the pistol. Now, though, caught by surprise, he dashed out of the room with only his knife, only to suddenly find himself somewhere which was most certainly not the way to the lockbox, or anywhere which he recognized for that matter. He blinked a few times, his pale blue eyes adjusting to the forest slowly, and slowly lowered the knife. Well, this was...different.
"Holy-" Oaky didn't expect these people to be laying here. And he most certainly did not expect any of them to be falling from the sky, or dressed in military garb, holding combat knives.
"Mom? Dad? Addie! T-Bird! Where are you guys???" He called out to his family- Who were of course not there.
Now this is where things start to get a little freaky.
"Okay... Okay." Austin said out loud, to no one in particular. He did this quite often, but only when he thought he was alone. "Alright, let's think." He paced in circles trying to look like he was thinking. Really he was just panicking the teensiest bit.
Finally he gripped his head and spun around on his heels. "Okay!" He said once more, louder than intended, and looked around once more at the others who were undoubtedly either staring at him in confusion or acting confused themselves.
Finally, he walked over to the nearest person, who just so happened to be the player known as Witness. They looked like they knew what was going on, what with the uniform and all.
"Excuse me, sir," he began, "Do you know where this is? It's kind of stupid, but I am completely lost and I don't remember how I got here." He said, perhaps a little too cheerfully. "I also don't know who any of these people are."
Poor, stupid little Oaky.
"Mom? Dad? Addie! T-Bird! Where are you guys???" He called out to his family- Who were of course not there.
Now this is where things start to get a little freaky.
"Okay... Okay." Austin said out loud, to no one in particular. He did this quite often, but only when he thought he was alone. "Alright, let's think." He paced in circles trying to look like he was thinking. Really he was just panicking the teensiest bit.
Finally he gripped his head and spun around on his heels. "Okay!" He said once more, louder than intended, and looked around once more at the others who were undoubtedly either staring at him in confusion or acting confused themselves.
Finally, he walked over to the nearest person, who just so happened to be the player known as Witness. They looked like they knew what was going on, what with the uniform and all.
"Excuse me, sir," he began, "Do you know where this is? It's kind of stupid, but I am completely lost and I don't remember how I got here." He said, perhaps a little too cheerfully. "I also don't know who any of these people are."
Poor, stupid little Oaky.
Dylan looked around."What the hell..." He muttered as he looked down by his ugly slippers. The glass he just held lied shattered over the floor. The young man held his hand by his forehead to check for any fevers. This was odd. Very odd, and hardly believable as well. Did years of TV and the computer finally addle his mind?
The lad took a few steps, running his fingers over the grass and the bark of a nearby oak tree. But as he did, a wild Sufyan fell from the tree and Dylan jumped back a bit."The hell is wrong with this place!?" He yelled perhaps a bit too loud, but then he recognized him."I have gone utterly insane." He said in a monotone voice as he turned around and sat down on the grass holding on to his head with his eyes closed shut."wake uppp... wake uuuup..."
The lad took a few steps, running his fingers over the grass and the bark of a nearby oak tree. But as he did, a wild Sufyan fell from the tree and Dylan jumped back a bit."The hell is wrong with this place!?" He yelled perhaps a bit too loud, but then he recognized him."I have gone utterly insane." He said in a monotone voice as he turned around and sat down on the grass holding on to his head with his eyes closed shut."wake uppp... wake uuuup..."
Zeger (that's me) was startled by all this as well. He jumped and fell over a root, sending himself sprawling to the ground. "WHAT IN THE NAME OF-" he then looked at the scene again. "Wait... Sufyan? Dylan? Where the heck did you guys come from?"
Other people would call him paranoid, a survivalist nut, but he preferred the more tactful term of "security-minded". It was his sense of security which caused him to view the group of loud and confused people with a grimace and take a few steps back from them, and it was that same sense which caused him to wheel about on the kid who had addressed him, his grip tightening on the knife's handle. However, as he looked the teenager over, he let his defenses lower just a little; the dopey cheerfulness, the way he carried himself, the deference in the word "sir" all suggested that whomever responsible for their arrival was not among their number. The grip relaxed, the brows unfurrowed, and he responded in a voice which was detached, firm, but somewhat quiet; it didn't betray the inner struggle to stay calm despite his situation of being in a strange land, with strange people.
"I don't know where we are, or who these people are, but I doubt that standing around here in the open is the best thing to do."
He spoke a little strangely, pronouncing the "wh" sound in where and who, and took a few moments to survey the others with a blank look before he continued.
"I suppose it might help if we all introduced ourselves? Pointless smalltalk usually helps distract people from dire circumstances. Call me Witness, or Gifford Maxim if you've got a thing for proper names; you don't need to know my real name, but I'll get that you're addressing me if you use either of those," Witness mumbled as he moved his coat aside to tuck the knife into his belt and free up his hand to shake with. "What should I call you, kid?"
"I don't know where we are, or who these people are, but I doubt that standing around here in the open is the best thing to do."
He spoke a little strangely, pronouncing the "wh" sound in where and who, and took a few moments to survey the others with a blank look before he continued.
"I suppose it might help if we all introduced ourselves? Pointless smalltalk usually helps distract people from dire circumstances. Call me Witness, or Gifford Maxim if you've got a thing for proper names; you don't need to know my real name, but I'll get that you're addressing me if you use either of those," Witness mumbled as he moved his coat aside to tuck the knife into his belt and free up his hand to shake with. "What should I call you, kid?"
Sufyan was sat underneath a tree "I've lost ... I've actually lost it" Sufyan muttered, poor guy, it all caught him buy surprise and maybe that fall knocked a few screws loose. "And now i hear Zeger and Dylan... Wait... Why do i hear Zeger and Dylan?" Sufyan raised his head slowly and jumped back when he saw Zeger "What the Hell!?" He yelled a little too loud but before he could do anything *BAM* A chair hits him on the head "theyes... Mah shair" he mumbled falling flat on his back.
Zeger couldn't help but laugh out loudly. "Well, that does kinda look like something that can only happen to y-" He wasn't finished talking when another chair came falling from the sky and hit him. "Oww...-" he crawled from underneath it. "Well, there's mine..."
He put it aside and looked the place over again. He then looked at Witness and nodded at his proposal. "I suppose that would be best - but I allready know Sufyan and Dylan here. Anyway, my name is Zeger.' He dusted off his clothes from falling down again after the chair hit him, and scratched his chin as he thought where they might be. "Any idea where we are? I remember browsing on rprepository.com when I suddenly woke up right here." he pointed out the obvious forest around them.
He put it aside and looked the place over again. He then looked at Witness and nodded at his proposal. "I suppose that would be best - but I allready know Sufyan and Dylan here. Anyway, my name is Zeger.' He dusted off his clothes from falling down again after the chair hit him, and scratched his chin as he thought where they might be. "Any idea where we are? I remember browsing on rprepository.com when I suddenly woke up right here." he pointed out the obvious forest around them.
It was still hard to believe what was going on. Zeger was here as well? At least this insanity would be bearable now that one of his pals from Belgium is here."Welcome to insanity, Zeger." He sighed as he rubbed his eyes. Well, Dylan's here now, he might as well get used to it.
He turned around to face the rest of the group, but took another step aside when both Sufyan and Zeger got hit by a chair."What the.. you two alright?" He asked as he tried to get them up.
Once they got up he listened to Witness' speech and shook his hand. He seemed to reasson well even though he's in a possibly dangerous situation. Probably because he's a military, Dylan figured.
"Dylan, or Rynh if you're more comfortable with that." He answered him, though when Zeger mentioned RP Repository."Hey, yeah... wait a sec. I know a guy named Witness from the forums, and... you two are on RPR as well." He looked at the youngest of the group."Who're you pal?"
He turned around to face the rest of the group, but took another step aside when both Sufyan and Zeger got hit by a chair."What the.. you two alright?" He asked as he tried to get them up.
Once they got up he listened to Witness' speech and shook his hand. He seemed to reasson well even though he's in a possibly dangerous situation. Probably because he's a military, Dylan figured.
"Dylan, or Rynh if you're more comfortable with that." He answered him, though when Zeger mentioned RP Repository."Hey, yeah... wait a sec. I know a guy named Witness from the forums, and... you two are on RPR as well." He looked at the youngest of the group."Who're you pal?"
Another member of another world was slumbering behind a large trunk of a large tree. The tree had deposited its leaves into a light and dark green pile. In the middle of that pile, away from the prying eyes of the others, a sleeping figure lay. Mysterious, isn't it?
Clad in the thinnest of kimonos (a lively red silk with matching golden dragons on each side, above sewn on pockets, and closed by a taught red silk tie, which was off to the right side) and alternating blue and green pajama bottoms (a delightful checkered pattern), the figure was thin. She was neither tall, nor short, and her auburn hair was long, just past her shoulders, and it was messy and poofy, like she went to bed without drying her hair. On her face, there was a leaf, and under that leaf, old-fashioned black glasses, round in shape, and void of glass.
Through her slumber, muffled words entered her dreams. "What? You're saying I have...personal feelings for him? I don't think so! Look, the reason this mission has been delayed is because the channel to M.O. is still open! Damn, the connection went dead!The young lady's eyes flutter open. Grab a guitar, and you can be a pop idle! Chicks dig it dude! Peyon!
This young lady has a peculiar name, because her name sounds too nice to be spoken frivolously. Her name is Ceel, like the animal that some club in order to prevent it from evolving into a thing, with tusks. Her blue eyes open, and the leaf on her face is removed with a short, exhaled breath. "Wow. Look at this realism..." She then makes snow-angels in the pile of leaves, a giddy smile on her lips.
Clad in the thinnest of kimonos (a lively red silk with matching golden dragons on each side, above sewn on pockets, and closed by a taught red silk tie, which was off to the right side) and alternating blue and green pajama bottoms (a delightful checkered pattern), the figure was thin. She was neither tall, nor short, and her auburn hair was long, just past her shoulders, and it was messy and poofy, like she went to bed without drying her hair. On her face, there was a leaf, and under that leaf, old-fashioned black glasses, round in shape, and void of glass.
Through her slumber, muffled words entered her dreams. "What? You're saying I have...personal feelings for him? I don't think so! Look, the reason this mission has been delayed is because the channel to M.O. is still open! Damn, the connection went dead!The young lady's eyes flutter open. Grab a guitar, and you can be a pop idle! Chicks dig it dude! Peyon!
This young lady has a peculiar name, because her name sounds too nice to be spoken frivolously. Her name is Ceel, like the animal that some club in order to prevent it from evolving into a thing, with tusks. Her blue eyes open, and the leaf on her face is removed with a short, exhaled breath. "Wow. Look at this realism..." She then makes snow-angels in the pile of leaves, a giddy smile on her lips.
Sufyan rubbed his head and sat up "mother fuuuh... Man that hurt..." He looked at Zeger who got hit by a chair too "it seems that you have just as bad luck as I do" he rolled his eyes getting up slowly "well, Witness, my name is Sufyan" he held out his hand for a shake, a smile gracing his lips as he looked at him.
"RPRepisitory? I've been on it for a while but this is the first time this has happened to me. Had my characters set up n'all"
"RPRepisitory? I've been on it for a while but this is the first time this has happened to me. Had my characters set up n'all"
(Guys don't let this RP group die! i wanted to play on this group!!)
DontBeTrippin wrote:
(Guys don't let this RP group die! i wanted to play on this group!!)
Hey, Sufyan! Don't be Trippin! (See what I did there? ;P) The RP hasn't died at all! We're all just waiting on that inconsiderate jerk Oaky to actually reply. He just started this thread and then abandoned us.
I do recall him saying something about going to California, then Spain, and then Missouri, back to back to back. BUT STILL.
(I'll cook up a nice, juicy, tender, succulent reply very soon! Sorry to keep y'all waiting!
)~Oaky
There was a small sound, just the clearing of a throat, that came from the east of the group.
Leaning against a tree was a man, one that could be considered almost exactly average for an American male for his age range. Five foot ten, roughly 190 pounds, green eyed and dark haired, with glasses for the bonus of marginalizing him even further. The things that set him apart, however, were immediately evident. His head was so closely and freshly shorn that red marks from the clippers could still be seen, save for the two inch wide strip of hair down the center of his head. He hadn't shaved in an unknown amount of time, but there was just enough extra bushiness of the facial hair around his mouth and chin to indicate that, when he did shave, it was a goatee. His clothing was relatively unremarkable, save for the pair of cowboy boots: a black hoodie and blue jeans were the only things visible. In one hand, however, was a bright red but scuffed up aluminum softball bat, and in the other, a beer in a neon green neoprene koozie.
"Y'all an awf'ly noisy bunch." The man, obviously the oldest of the seemingly impromptu gathering, spoke with a bit of a Texan accent, coupled with a general 'country' accent, making him sound just vaguely Southern.
Looking over his glasses, the man eyeballed the bunch coolly. It might be said that he was being unfriendly, though that wasn't truly the case. He was simply security-minded as well, and generally regarded people the way that he had been taught in by his drill instructors: "Be courteous, but have a plan to kill everyone you meet."
That said, he eventually settled his gaze on the tallest of the bunch and finally cracked a smile. "How ya doin', Giff? You ringleadin' this circus?"
Leaning against a tree was a man, one that could be considered almost exactly average for an American male for his age range. Five foot ten, roughly 190 pounds, green eyed and dark haired, with glasses for the bonus of marginalizing him even further. The things that set him apart, however, were immediately evident. His head was so closely and freshly shorn that red marks from the clippers could still be seen, save for the two inch wide strip of hair down the center of his head. He hadn't shaved in an unknown amount of time, but there was just enough extra bushiness of the facial hair around his mouth and chin to indicate that, when he did shave, it was a goatee. His clothing was relatively unremarkable, save for the pair of cowboy boots: a black hoodie and blue jeans were the only things visible. In one hand, however, was a bright red but scuffed up aluminum softball bat, and in the other, a beer in a neon green neoprene koozie.
"Y'all an awf'ly noisy bunch." The man, obviously the oldest of the seemingly impromptu gathering, spoke with a bit of a Texan accent, coupled with a general 'country' accent, making him sound just vaguely Southern.
Looking over his glasses, the man eyeballed the bunch coolly. It might be said that he was being unfriendly, though that wasn't truly the case. He was simply security-minded as well, and generally regarded people the way that he had been taught in by his drill instructors: "Be courteous, but have a plan to kill everyone you meet."
That said, he eventually settled his gaze on the tallest of the bunch and finally cracked a smile. "How ya doin', Giff? You ringleadin' this circus?"
"Are we using pseudonyms? You can call me Oaky. Real name-wise, I guess you could call me Austin." The kid noticed the people getting hit with chairs and tried to hold back laughter because he knew it wasn't nice for the people getting hit. It was kinda sudden and unexpected, so he quickly turned back to the one called Witness and smiled, holding out his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Maxim." This was a well-practiced and often-used motion for Oaky. Turning to the one called Rynh, he once again repeated this motion. "It's nice to meet you as well, Dylan."
Some of these people apparently knew each other from elsewhere. This was a good sign. But then these people were surprised that said acquaintances were also with them. This was a bad sign. There was also a young lady making leaf-angels on the ground. This was also a bad sign.
Oaky was getting a creeping feeling that all of them were kidnapped, when suddenly a man clears his throat. Bad guy. He apparently knew Mr. Maxim. Oaky looked between the two like it was some kind of epic showdown. Like in the movies where the bad guy and good guy who used to be partners meet up and the bad guy's like, "Still doin' the hero routine, eh?" And the good guy's like, "I've been changed now, and you should come with me." And then the bad guy just chuckles evilly and shakes his head slowly, and then they fight to the near-death. And when the good guy just about kills the bad guy, he leaves him alive because they used to be friends.
Oaky feels the outline of the leather case on his belt underneath his shirt, which held his Leatherman Wave. It wasn't exactly a weapon, and he wasn't exactly trained to fight, but at least he could stab someone if they tried anything.
This was getting weird.
Also, some people mentioned the RPR. What did that have anything to do with-
Wait a minute...
Some of these people apparently knew each other from elsewhere. This was a good sign. But then these people were surprised that said acquaintances were also with them. This was a bad sign. There was also a young lady making leaf-angels on the ground. This was also a bad sign.
Oaky was getting a creeping feeling that all of them were kidnapped, when suddenly a man clears his throat. Bad guy. He apparently knew Mr. Maxim. Oaky looked between the two like it was some kind of epic showdown. Like in the movies where the bad guy and good guy who used to be partners meet up and the bad guy's like, "Still doin' the hero routine, eh?" And the good guy's like, "I've been changed now, and you should come with me." And then the bad guy just chuckles evilly and shakes his head slowly, and then they fight to the near-death. And when the good guy just about kills the bad guy, he leaves him alive because they used to be friends.
Oaky feels the outline of the leather case on his belt underneath his shirt, which held his Leatherman Wave. It wasn't exactly a weapon, and he wasn't exactly trained to fight, but at least he could stab someone if they tried anything.
This was getting weird.
Also, some people mentioned the RPR. What did that have anything to do with-
Wait a minute...
A rustling and stumbling noise from a little ways beyond might draw some attention in the chaos. Or it might not, if everyone was too occupied with being weirded out.
The young woman was a tall one, easily topping six feet and an inch with a a slightly overweight build without being obese. Her hair was not natural in color, a dark brown with a violet sheen from a recent dye, but fitting her face with a long haircut that fell in waves down along her cheeks. Makeup subtly painted her face, her eyes accentuated with neutral brown tones, eyepencil and a touch of mascara, while her cheeks held a gentle blush. Her lips were a soft pink from the lipgloss she wore and her fingernails were painted to match. She wore a purple long sleeve shirt, black jeans and very uncomfortable boots with heels that were not fit for a forest walk. And also the reason for her insistent Dutch cursing over and over again.
She neared the group and caught wind of conversation, then quickly slipped behind a tree in the hopes of not being noticed too soon. She'd woken up hugging a tree of all things, recalling her attempt at an afternoon nap without anything funny going on. She wanted to say it was a dream, but it felt too real, even if common sense dictated this couldn't possibly happen.
Holding her breath, she leaned against the tree and listened. She could barely make out what they were saying. Did she recognize those voices? She had the nagging feeling that she should, and when she peeked around the corner her breath caught in her throat, clearly recognizing Witness and Jay's faces from the pictures. But that's impossible!
The young woman was a tall one, easily topping six feet and an inch with a a slightly overweight build without being obese. Her hair was not natural in color, a dark brown with a violet sheen from a recent dye, but fitting her face with a long haircut that fell in waves down along her cheeks. Makeup subtly painted her face, her eyes accentuated with neutral brown tones, eyepencil and a touch of mascara, while her cheeks held a gentle blush. Her lips were a soft pink from the lipgloss she wore and her fingernails were painted to match. She wore a purple long sleeve shirt, black jeans and very uncomfortable boots with heels that were not fit for a forest walk. And also the reason for her insistent Dutch cursing over and over again.
She neared the group and caught wind of conversation, then quickly slipped behind a tree in the hopes of not being noticed too soon. She'd woken up hugging a tree of all things, recalling her attempt at an afternoon nap without anything funny going on. She wanted to say it was a dream, but it felt too real, even if common sense dictated this couldn't possibly happen.
Holding her breath, she leaned against the tree and listened. She could barely make out what they were saying. Did she recognize those voices? She had the nagging feeling that she should, and when she peeked around the corner her breath caught in her throat, clearly recognizing Witness and Jay's faces from the pictures. But that's impossible!
Maxim looked the Southerner with the Travis Bickle hairdo over and something almost resembling an amused grin broke across his face for half a second before he gave a somewhat-forced cough and resumed his blank, indifferent expression from before. The baseball bat and the beer seemed...strangely appropriate, although the newcomer's smile suggested his bat wouldn't need to be used immediately. After a moment to shift his stance, the combat knife tucked into his belt was starting become uncomfortable, he looked back at Oaky and almost gave him another smile, but it didn't show. Instead, a firm handshake was traded and a snicker over the "Mr. Maxim". If nothing else, the kid was polite.
"I suppose I am running this circus, even if it's little more than an honorary title right now. I don't suppose you have any idea of why we're here?"
He turned his attention back to Oaky, who seemed to be looking between him and the newcomer, and raised an eyebrow; he started to ask if the fellow was alright, but then he started to reach for something on his belt, and that sparked an idea. From his position, he scanned the group and then spoke a little louder.
"Say, who here has anything with them, items, whatever? We might need to fight our way out of a sticky situation or two, and if anyone has medical experience, now would be a good time to let us know."
It always, always ended up like this; all he wanted to do was go home, take a load off, and talk with his beloved, then he got thrown in this place. Then he wanted to get away from this group of strangers in a strange land, but he'd stuck around because one of them had been a little friendly, a little dopey. Now he had them calling him "Mr.", saying he was leading the show, and what did he do? He led, already working out a plan to travel in a group, have people designated for this task or that. For a misanthrope and a hermit, he sure was terrible at keeping away and in the background.
"I suppose I am running this circus, even if it's little more than an honorary title right now. I don't suppose you have any idea of why we're here?"
He turned his attention back to Oaky, who seemed to be looking between him and the newcomer, and raised an eyebrow; he started to ask if the fellow was alright, but then he started to reach for something on his belt, and that sparked an idea. From his position, he scanned the group and then spoke a little louder.
"Say, who here has anything with them, items, whatever? We might need to fight our way out of a sticky situation or two, and if anyone has medical experience, now would be a good time to let us know."
It always, always ended up like this; all he wanted to do was go home, take a load off, and talk with his beloved, then he got thrown in this place. Then he wanted to get away from this group of strangers in a strange land, but he'd stuck around because one of them had been a little friendly, a little dopey. Now he had them calling him "Mr.", saying he was leading the show, and what did he do? He led, already working out a plan to travel in a group, have people designated for this task or that. For a misanthrope and a hermit, he sure was terrible at keeping away and in the background.