Annie

[color=darkred][size=1]I understand what you are talking about. It's hard for me, or anyone, to create a new and original RPG anymore. In honesty, it's impossible to create an "original" RPG. We all get influences from movies, songs, books, et cetra; thus giving inspiration for an RPG idea. The thing is, is that everyone has their own variation of the basic concept of that idea. Of course, there are many RPG's that I have either read or been a part of that have burned a place here on the OtakuBoards based off of the media surrounding us. Repetition in the Inn cannot be controlled really. You'll always have someone with the similar idea, it's innevitable.[/color][/size]

[color=darkred][size=1]Hm, that was..interesting....oh, allow me to contain my excitment. I'm quite impressed that you actually came up with this "formula". Different, and down to the T. I applaud you. Good job. It's nice to know how to please a lady, eh? ~_^[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Hmm, perhaps I should post my character to give you all a basic idea...(in reality, I should have done this in the introduction ^_^;; oops..) [b]Name-[/b] Oscar Victorias [b]Age[/b]- 18 [b]Gender[/b]- Male [b]Sterotype[/b]- [u]The misfit[/u]- Dark, lonesome, morbid, very quiet. Would rather draw by themself than have to listen to anyone's conversation. Doesn't fit into any stereotypical teen group and keeps emotions locked inside. [b]Appearance[/b]-[url=http://www.models1.co.uk/detail.asp?softsearch=&defpic=No&curpage=1&letter=&PackageSentID=&linkback=2&modelID=15755&agencyID=1085&userid=&packageid=&imagename=003.JPG&cboagencyid=1085&careerid=1&cboHeight=&cboethnic=&cbohair=&cboeye=&lngsexid=1&view=&PackageLineID=&cbocup=&cbobust=] Oscar[/url] [b]Issue/Secret-[/b] Much like your typical misfit, Oscar contains many secrets and self-conflicting issues. However there is one issue that eats Oscar from the inside-out. At the age of fifteen, Oscar struggled through any teenager of any gender's worst fear, rape. [b]Bio[/b]- Growing up in a middle-class home, Oscar was given the attention and love every child strives for from their parents. He had many friends in his youth and lived a wealthy childhood, full of happiness and excitement. But, all is gold can't glitter forever; it soon becomes tarnished. At the age of thirteen, Oscar's parents fought through a volcanic divorce. Oscar, was left to wake in the ashes of the aftermath. After many court hearings and case pendings, Oscar's father held custody of the thirteen-year old youth. This only resulted in what will change Oscar's emotianal well-being for the rest of his life. Age fourteen, Oscar's father accepted a promising job in a small city called Hallow's Point. His mind and heart took a turn for the worst; all of his friends, gone; all of his goals and dreams, gone; his faith, gone. The children of Hallow's Point, much like any other person in the population, did not take kindly to change and took it upon themselves to torment the "new guy". Their bullying games and pranks received their greedy satisfaction, only driving Oscar deeper into himself. School was not any better for him. Here the teachers took advantage of the boy's fragility, brutally toying with his emotions and, sometimes, his virginal body. Many complaints to his father and to the Principal Weavely, but were ignored. Oscar's father blamed the matter on his son's anger at him for the divorce and the move. Principal Weavely, of course, denied such an outrage on the boy's accusations. For Oscar, the torment did not stop at school. His father took many woman into the home in attempt to move on, but all efforts failed. Oscar grew cold to the futile attempts and odd antics and behavior. Frustration naturally set inside his father's heart, residing into ritual verbal and physical abuse. Nothing Oscar couldn't handle, until one autum night. An arguement errupted between father and son, the father being heavily inebriated and full of rage. Pent up sexual frustration and stress from work was the bane of Oscar's memories of that night. A delicate teenager, tainted by his father's overbearing fury of twisted, sexual abuse. Oscar's appearance may not show his dark secret, but deep inside, his heart festers in terrorizong decadence of sexual torment.[/color][/size]

[color=red][b][size=2]WARNING-[/size][/b] This RPG will contain twisted violence, harsh language, sexual perversion. I strongly urge you to reconsider reading/signing up if you find the previous listed offensive.[/color] [color=darkslategray][size=1][b]"The school bells ring, students flood the corridors, teachers desperately seek shelter in their lobbies. Screams of freedom sound the begining of another summer. The traditional frenzy of shredded papers fill the negative spaces between hyped bodies. School's out for the summer. Principal Weavely, of Hallow's Point High, takes great pride in his high school's ratings, and will do anything to keep up the reputation it preceeds. However, over the past four summers, Principal Weavely's picture-perfect reputation has been tarnished. Not by spiteful students or dilemmas in fundings. But rather a string of disappearances, homicides, and molestation of his students. For the, now fifth, summer here at the high school, cases go unsolved about missing students and who is behind this terror. No one knows why these crimes started, but everyone knows for sure that it is frightening and maddening. Are the teachers behind this? Or worse, Principal Weavely himself? If so, why? Hello, I am Judith Brockheimer with Newscast 3. I'm currently standing outsided the limestone gates of the state's oldest high school, Hallow's Point High School. As you can see behind me, swarms of young adults rushing out of what they have called 'Hallow's Pointblank High'. The name reminds us that as parents, we have to put an end to this streak of summer terror. Will Hallow's Point finally be able to put an end to our children's nightmares? For Newscast 3, back to you Alex." "Hmm, 'why' seems to be the question, thank you, Judith. We will be following up with this horrible story after these breif messeges....."[/b] Hallow's Point High, its reputation for an excellent education program and prestigious for its reknowned teachers is crumbling from malicious conduct of its employees. For years, a group of twisted teachers have found humor in taking credit for subduing the most unruly of teenagers. And for the past four years, they have been successful. As for this summer, they have another thing coming. It's time for their students to turn the tables and take back the freedom these crooked teachers have stolen. It's time to give it back. Will five sworn enemies be able to put this to a hault? [b]The rundown of characters:[/b] 1) [u]The preppy[/u]- Peppy, upbeat, enrolled in many school activites/clubs, cares only about themself. 2)[u]The thug[/u]- Angry at everyone, especially the preppy. Defiant, very talkative and loud. 3) The poet- Passive and blissful, liberal and understanding. 4) The skater- Hyper, care-free, enthusiast. Very optimistic and boisterous, always wanting to skate or conquer a new video game. 5) The misfit- Dark, lonesome, morbid, very quiet. Would rather draw by themself than have to listen to anyone's conversation. Doesn't fit into any stereotypical teen group and keeps emotions locked inside. (taken by myself) [b]Each[/b] character will have an issue or secret. What that is, will be up to your creativity and imagination. (Keep in mind that I intend this RPG to be slightly disturbed) Their secrets or issues will be revealed later into the RPG. [b][u]Sign-up[/u] Name- Age-[/b] (between the ages of 16-19) [b]Gender- Sterotype- [/b](any of #'s 1-4) [b]Appearance- Issue/Secret- Bio-[/b] (try to tie your character's issue/secret into the bio...and remember, quality counts) [center][b]Note: Seeing as how this is my first time writing up something in over four months, I would like to inform you that I'm intending to keep this RPG mature and controlled. Dare to venture into an obscurity of preposterous posts, and I will take care of your position in the RPG.[/center][/b] ..have at it. If there are any questions, feel free to PM me.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Hello everybody! It's been very long since I've been on the OB, and I need an update on my banner and avatar. So anyone willing to help out a fellow OBer? I apologize for not having any links to sites to grab pics from, please don't get mad....Anyway for the topic of my requested banner/avi, I'm going to request a Chobits theme. I think I'm going to lean towards a loving genre. Something sweet and friendly. I think that appropriate for my returning, eh? Let's see what you've got. P.S....Have at it. [color=#008080]I haven't been very good about enforcing this rule, but we ask that you place the topic of the banner in your thread name. Sooo.. *edits title* :D -Syk3[/color][/size][/color]

[color=navy][size=1][b]I regret to inform you all, that I will not be present on the OB. I have no idea as to when I'll return, seeing as how I don't have a PC at home anymore. So, until I do get one, please, play my character justfully. Corey, Kane, I don't care who does it. You can have her go insane, die, live, whatever you like. I won't be able to finish this sequel with you all.....again. Damnit, I wasn't able to finish the first one either! This sucks T_T. Of course, I will inform everyone of my return. Perhaps with a stellar RPG. 'til then, Annie[/size][/color][/b]

[color=navy][size=1][right][b]|-In the Mess Hall-| "Well, you should sing more often. It would help sooth people,"[/b] Jako stood from the chair. Ana blushed slightly and closed the refridgerator. She found a red apple and began to shine it on the belly of her shirt. [b]"Thank you..again,"[/b] Ana twisted the apple, admiring the rich color, [b]"Please excuse me. I have thousands of sheets of paper to sort out." "With displeasure,"[/b] Jako bowed mockingly and held his arm towards the door. Ana smiled and left the Mess Hall. [b]|-A couple of minutes later-|[/b] Ana tossed the apple in the air and watched it fall. Her hand reached out to catch it, but her eye lost contact. Rather, her eye fell upon Van. He was clutching his head. Ana furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and started towards him, allowing the apple to hit the floor. [b]"Van, are you-"[/b] Van crumpled against the vending machine. [b]"Van!"[/b] Ana gasped and scooped the shaking doctor into her arms before he crashed into the metal grated floor. [b]"Van, Van..Answer me,"[/b] Ana slowly and gently sunk to the floor, cradling him. Van spoke no words, his now streaking tears informed Ana that he was in pain. His breathing was heavy and slow, shaking at random. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and cheeks. Ana wiped his brow with her sleeve. [b]"Please Van, say something,"[/b] panic fluttered in Ana's breast. Van's face drained of all color, his skin chilled. He looked at Ana and began to move his lips. A silent whisper, raspy and breathless, escaped his mouth. [b]"What?"[/b] Ana leant over to get her ear closer, her soft curls grazed Van's face.[/color][/size][/right]

[color=navy][size=1][right]Ana stared at the heavy doors, concerned and slightly upset. All she wanted to do was help. [i]Every time I try..I feel I'm being pushed away..[/i] Ana sighed, and started down the corridor, away from it all. The ship, despite all of the turmoil that began to rise, was peaceful, and silent. No clicks, no yelling, no humming, nothing. [i]Thrity more minutes, then we'll be on our way..[/i] Ana glanced at her watch, anxiety growing within her abdomen. A small groan reverberated from Ana's stomach and she gently stroke her belly. [i]Hm, perhaps I was hungrier than I thought. Let's go take a look inside the fridge..[/i] Ana picked up pace and followed the twisting corridors to finally stumble upon the Mess Hall. She depressed the switch and watched the doors slide open. Singing softly, Ana walked with stride over to the refridgerator. [b]"So glad to see you out. Overcome and completely silent. Now, with Heaven's help, you've cast your demons out. And not to pull your halo down around your neck and tug you to the ground. But I'm more than just a little curious-"[/b] Ana stopped and began to blush. [b]"You have a pretty voice, Ana." "Thank you, Jako."[/b] Jako stood up from the only swivel chair, which was supposed to be the captain's seat. He walked over towards Ana and propped himself up on the counter with his elbow. [b]"Though,"[/b] he pushed himself up and around Ana,[b] "I must admit, it was sad. Is everthing alright?"[/b] Jako grasped his cup and took a long sip, eyeing Ana. [b]"It's nothing really. I just happen to love that song,"[/b] Ana smiled and reached into the refridgerator.[/color][/size][/right]

[color=navy][size=1][b][right]"What are they, Father?"[/b] A long silence. They sit at a grungy table in a small restaurant. The rain pitters and bleeds down the fogging glass. The littered streets buzz of angery pedestrians and careless vehicles. [b]"Your wounds?"[/b] Christina looks at the priest, a cigarette in one hand. Her wrists wrapped tightly with gauze bandages and muslim cloth, patches of red stain the white fabric. [b]"Yes, my wounds,"[/b] Christina shoved the cigarette's butt into an ashtray. Sammuel lifted the bandages and gasps at the torn flesh. She flips her hands palms down on the table, the same wounds were on the opposite side. He stares back in disbelief and rubs his hands together vigorously, his nerves fraying in several directions. [b]"The wounds are identical," Sammuel blinked, rubbing his hands over his face now. [b] "No shit, Sherlock. What I want to know is why this is happening to me, and what in the hell is going on?"[/b] Christina sat back, folding her arms over her chest. Sammuel sighed heavily, dreading what he was about to say. Dreading the thought of having to explain something so deep within religion to an anti-Christ woman. [b]"You are experiencing Stigmata." "What is that, Father?"[/b] Beads of sweat rolled down his neck. [b]"Stigmata are the wounds of Christ. They are brought about by spiritual stress." "What? I don't understand any of this spiritual mumbo jumbo. Nor do I care, all I want is an answer as to why it's happening to me." "That, I cannot answer right now. Please allow me to help you. There are five wounds, one of which you have already come to be victim of. If you do not allow me to help you, no one will."[/b] The rain pounds on the glass. Christina opened her mouth to speak, however, she closed her lips. [b]"Can I die from this 'stigmata'?" "It is very possible. That is why it is so important for you to cooperate with me." "But there is a way to stop this, right?"[/b] Sammuel cradled his cup of coffee, hoping the warmth would lend him strength. Christina leant over the table in expectation. [b]"Right?" "Perhaps." "Perhaps?! What kind of an answer is that, Sammuel?" "The only answer I can offer you right now,"[/b] the priest looked up from his steaming drink to be shot back into his seat with Christina's intense glare. [b]"That's bullshit! Why did I even come here?!"[/b] Christina shot up from her seat, [b]"The coffee's on me." "Christina!"[/b] Sammuel rose to persue. [b]"You can't help me, Sam! You have no idea what is happening to me, you don't know what this is!"[/b] Christina shook her wrists in his face. She stormed out of the little restaurant, slamming the doors in Sammuel's face. The rain fell with venom. [i]"..Don't let her walk away angry..."[/i] Corey's last words of wisdom for Sammuel. He nodded and exited the restaurant.[/color][/size][/right] ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- [b][size=1]|-Chapter 6- The Second Wound| Characters [list][*]Christina Venicci [*]Father Sammuel Jacobi [*]Marshall Dumat [*]Jules Hammerson[/list] Summary[/b]- In this chapter, Christina experiences the next wound of Christ; the slashes of the back. After her stormy exit, Christina decides to go back to her apartment and relax. Only to find that she will not be as relaxed as she had hoped..and to find that Sammuel is relentless. As he hurries to find a way to help Christina, Sammuel asks the help of the priest, Marshall Dumat. Together, the two priests discover some evidence as to why the stigmata are releasing their terror on Christina. [b]Note[/b]- People in play: Dmitri_Dragoon, Arika, Baron Samedi,and myself. Please, if you wish to discuss ideas or have questions as to what to post, there is a thread in the Underground that I put up just for that purpose. You'll probably need to go back a couple of pages. [b]Baron, would you like to start us off? You can pick up with Dmitri_Dragoon's character, or just have him already at his place. PM me if you need to.[/b][/size]

[color=navy][size=1]Kyle, what is taking so long? I know about what happened at work, but the least you can do is update for us. I don't know what the others think, but the more you delay, the less interested I am becoming. I'm very excited to retry this RPG, considering the last attempt was jumbled and out of control. It's been over two weeks now, what's holding you up? I know I'm supposed to take this to PM's, but this (I've found) grabs attention much quicker and more efficiently.[/color][/size]

[color=navy][size=1][right][b]"What happened?!"[/b] Ana huffed, placing her hands on her knees. She had heard all of the commotion, but only arrived too late. The Sick Bay's doors were shut tightly. Van's eyes burned with rage, but his face remained still. He blinked, realizing Ana had slid to his side. [b]"Sam attacked Trini,"[/b] blunt, his voice blunt and infuriated. [b]"Oh God, is she alright?" "She'll be fine. Just a couple of broken ribs and a bit shaken, but she'll be fine."[/b] Silence drifted into the lingering air. Ana stood straight and watched for any movement from the doors. Van as well. [b]"What was he thinking?"[/b] Ana let her hair down. [b]"He wasn't,"[/b] Van turned to face her. [b]"This has something to do with Tex, doesn't it?"[/b] Van's face flinched and he looked away, [b]"Yes. Sam fell in love with her, madly in love with her. And that is not a euphemism, Sam went insane. He attacked her many times, but she finally broke through his madness and relieved him. To his, and everyone's dismay, Tex died...in his arms. Ever since then, he's never recovered."[/b] Ana listened intently, her face drew pity for Sam. Van sighed and leant against the wall, waiting both impatiently and patiently. [b]"Why are you here, Ana?"[/b] Van looked once more at her. [b]"Honestly?"[/b] Van nodded. [b]"I wanted to pay amends for the previous mission. I feel partially responsible for the deaths of the Bladerunner's mission. There were things that could have been done to prevent-" "No. There was nothing anyone could have done to prevent the tragedy of the Bladerunner's mission. No one could even fathom what happened up there. No one could have done a God damned thing to stop it...not even God himself,"[/b] Van pushed himself from the wall and walked up to Ana. They fell to silence. Ana nodded to herself. Van opened his mouth to speak, his voice was replaced by the hissing of the doors. Both Van and Ana twirled around, Van bursting ahead into the Sick Bay. Ana soon behind him. [b]"Allen! What did you do to him?" "I woke him up."[/b] Ana's eyebrows lifted, a small smirk trickled across her face. She looked to Trini and walked to her bedside, taking her hand.[/color][/size][/right]

[color=navy][size=1][right]Ana was the last of the group to leave the Mess Hall. Trudging her way through the corridors, her bare feet padded the metal grating. Strangely enough, the feeling of her skin squeezing through the small squares relaxed Ana. Her high heels hung loosely between her slender fingers. Ana sighed, thoughts racing through her mind. Thoughts of the mission to come, of the faces she had met, of the feeling she could not mask. The feeling of being a burden. A burden to Allen, and the remaining of the original crew. [i]Perhaps I shouldn't have volunteered. I don't feel right here. Not that I'm afraid of this mission, never...but, I don't believe I belong here...[/i] Ana stopped, staring at the heavy, metal doors that read [b]Lt. Gen. Ana Thomas[/b]. She depressed the airlock and the doors hissed and opened swiftly. The heavy doors slammed behind her, leaving her to silence and darkness. She flicked the light switch and gazed around her surroundings. The room was fair sized, large enough for her to move about and work. The decor was official and surprisingly rich. Ana's desk and workstation was constructed from mahogany, the deep reddish brown color matched the twin-size bed. A small desk lamp perched off to the side of the top, two high-back chairs sat infront of the desk. [b]"Not bad. Especially for the military budget,"[/b] Ana rolled her eye and threw her shoes to the floor. She walked over to her bed and plopped down. Her head rolled to the side, staring at the crates that sat behind the desk and workstation. They were crates containing information and her clothes. Ana sat up and decided to take a shower. Moments later, Ana rummaged through a crate and pulled out casual wear. A pair of light blue jeans, a white button-up, long sleeved shirt, and a pair of brown boots. Twisting her cherry hair into a loose bun, Ana walked over to the mirror. She gazed at herself. Her left eye closed, the eyelid sunk in the place wear the eyeball would have been. The scars ruffled and misplaced the eyebrow. Ana's neck heated up and she slowly slipped the leather patch over her head, fitting it comfortably over her hollowed eye. [i]Well, I've associated myself with my respected area...[/i] Ana turned to exit her office, making her way into the corridor, [i]..I think I will go take a look around.[/i] She began to wander, looking at the other crew member's doors. Ana soon found herself in the Medical Wing, nearing Sick Bay. She stopped infront of the Sick Bay entrance, noting the names [b]Dr. Van Ambrose[/b] and [b]Physician Asst. Trini Angelos[/b]. She smiled. She liked Trini. Spunky, serious, and humorous. Trini knew how to care and make people heal, while having a great personality about everything serious. As far as Van went, Ana respected him. She could not place her finger on it, but there was an essence about Van that demanded a higher position than she. He was calm, mature, and highly intelligent. All aspects that Ana found attractive in a man. Shaking her head from her thoughts, Ana persued the hall. Finding herself at an intersection, Ana turned right. She spotted Avlen's room and continued on. Avlen, mysterious and quiet. Ana thought her relaxing. [b]Cpt. Allen Chubb[/b]. Ana stopped. [i]Please...[/i][/color][/size][/right]

[size=1][color=navy][right][b]Hehe, great idea, Corey. I nearly fell out of my chair reading both posts ^_^ Hm, perhaps I should take a try...[/b] Ana blinked, watching the faces of the others. They looked just as confused as she was. [b]"What's going on here?"[/b] Trini growled under her breath. [b]"Why did we stop filming?"[/b] Ana stood, firmly setting both fists on her hips, [b]"My makeup is going to run." "I'll be in my trailer!"[/b] Van stormed past the doors, which opened. The other scrunched their noses in total loss. [b]"Okay people, we can still keep going. Van will be a minute,"[/b] the director bounced into the room. [b]"It's about time. These lights are really bothering my skin,"[/b] Steffanie groaned. The group took their original positions. The director counted down on his fingers. He walked backwards away from the camera, tripping over the electrical wires. [b]"Action!"[/b] Ana nodded and tossed her hair. The final crew member stood to introduce theirself. Sweat dripped from his chin. Steffanie began to fan herself. [b]"So, does anyone know exactly what we're getting into?"[/b] one member asked. [b]"Hell. We are going into Hell,"[/b] Trini shivered, [b]"But first, I must administer the physicals. Please, all of you bring your medical profiles into Sick Bay in about ten minutes. I'll be waiting."[/b] Trini stood and exited the room. The others were left to shudder, or daydream, about their exam. One by one, they stood to leave the room. [b]"So, Ana. Do you want to go first? I'd like to see what exactly Trini is going to do,"[/b] Marcus sauntered behind the red-head. [b]"I will go whenever my name is pulled from the hat,"[/b] Ana pointed bluntly, pressing the airlock button. The doors hissed and she walked through, closely followed by Marcus. The doors closed quickly, unfortunately, not giving Marcus the time to make it all the way through. [b]"Yeeeeooooouuuuchhh!!!!"[/b] Marcus yellped, grasping his rear. [b]"Cut! Someone get those fixed! Marcus, you okay?" "DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M OKAY?!"[/b] his face flared and reddened, his hands still administering the rub-knead motion. [b]"Fine, fine. Just, keep going. The editor will come up with something,"[/b] the director waved. Continuing, Ana and Marcus walked side by side down the corridor, making their way to Sick Bay. They made small talk. [b]"So, what really did happen to your eye?"[/b] Marcus questioned with sincerity ringing in his voice. [b]"I had an accident. It was about twelve yea-" "Watch out!" "Huh? Oooof!"[/b] Ana blinked and turned around to slam into a crate. She performed a complete flip-flop and tumble. Both feet soared in the air. She landed on the flat of her back. [b]"CUT!!"[/b][/color][/size][/right]

[color=navy][size=1]Ah haha! Poor Corey ^_^ _______________________________________________________________ [right]Startled, and puzzled, all three men turned to stare at the pained young man. He clutched his head, whispering loudly. [b]"Hey, Marshall! How about a few aspirin?"[/b] The priest chuckled and walked to comfort the whimpering Corey. Jules side glanced at Sammuel, smiling slighly. Sammuel nodded and followed Marshall. [b]"Mr. Roos, I pressume?"[/b] Sammuel knelt beside him, handing him a handkerchief for his oozing wound. [b]"Shit, she made me bleed?"[/b] Corey took the hanky gratefully, nodding 'thanks' to Sammuel, [b]"Who are you two?"[/b] Sammuel stood with a slight groan. Jules was now beside him. [b]"I am Father Sammuel Jacobi, please, call me Sam. And this is my good friend, Jules Hammerson. I am here to question Christina-" "Good fucking luck!"[/b] Corey shot a flaring glare at her door. [b]"Please, Corey, try to refrain from using such profanity." "Oh, yeah. Sh-I mean, sorry 'bout that, Sam,"[/b] Corey stood. [b]"Father Jacobi?"[/b] a soft voice pulled the men's eyes towards a young nurse in all white. [b]"Yes,"[/b] Sammuel smiled. [b]"Dr. Livingston would like to speak with you about the patient. This way please,"[/b] the young woman led the way down the dark corridor. They stopped at an open door, drawing the eyes inside the lush design. An older, white haired man sat behind a wooden desk. One lamp was lit. [b]"Ah, Father Jacobi. Welcome,"[/b] the doctor stood and walked around to greet Sammuel. [b]"Thank you, Doctor,"[/b] Sammuel shook his hand. [b]"Thank you for coming. I could go on into a lecture of pleasantries, but I won't,"[/b] Dr. Livingston motioned to the built in bar. [b]"Oh, no thank you, Doctor. I'm here to inquire about Christina Venicci,"[/b] Sammuel unbuttoned his jacket. [b]"Ah yes, quite the firecracker. We cannot find anything wrong. I suspected suicide, but it doesn't make sense due to the fact of how the wounds are placed,''[/b] Dr. Livingston poured himself a drink. Sammuel nodded, [b]"So, you are releasing her?" "Yes,"[/b] Dr. Livingston nodded and took a slow sip, [b]"As lively as she is, I see no [i]solid[/i] indications of suicide, or the motivation there of."[/b] Sammuel finally sat down in the tall, leather chair. Inquisition quickly settling into his skin. He was slowly livening now. The doctor continued into the description of the wounds and his thoughts. Sammuel calmly rose from his seat and shook the doctor's hand. [b]"Thank you, Father. I hope your investigation turns for the best,"[/b] Dr. Livingston smiled gratefully. [b]"Thank you, Dr. Livingston,"[/b] Sammuel turned and walked down the hallway, towards Christina's room. Jules, Marshall, and Corey were now sitting in the waiting area. Corey still rubbing his skull. Jules stood first and quickly stepped beside his friend. [b]"Are they going to let her go?" "Yes, but I wish to speak with her alone first,"[/b] Sammuel slapped his hand on Jules's back, playfully. Sammuel knocked on the door and hesitantly opened it, peeping his head cautiously around the door. [b]"May I come in?"[/b] Sammuel grimaced in expectation, readying himself to slam the door. [b]"Yes, as long as you don't piss me off, you're good."[/b] Sammuel smirked and silently closed the door. Christina was laying on her side, staring aimlessly at the television. Sammuel tenderly made his way to the edge of the hospital bed. [b]"You can sit down, I won't bite,"[/b] Christina smiled, patting the mattress. [b]"Thank you, Ms. Venicci,"[/b] Sammuel folded his jacket over his arm. [b]"Call me 'Christina'. None of this 'Ms. Venicci', it makes me squirm,"[/b] she gently shoved Sammuel with her foot. He shifted, not out of discomfort. Christina stared. Sammuel coughed lightly before speaking. [b]"I have some good news for you. The doctor has just told me that he is releasing you." "Really? Thank fucking God." "A-hem..." "Oh, my bad. I am sorry, Father Jacobi." "Please, do call me 'Sammuel'." "Sammuel.."[/b] The two smiled. [b]"Ms. Ven-"[/b] Sammuel paused, Christina's glare forced redness into his flesh, [b]" Christina, would you like to go to lunch with me? I would like to ask you a few questions." "Sure, why not."[/b][/right][/color][/size]

[size=1][right][color=navy][b]"Ana Thomas, Lt. General of Intelligence. I will prefer you just see me as Ana, a crew member, and that is how I expect to be addressed,"[/b] Ana shrugged slightly and began to sit. [b]"What happened to your left eye, Lt.,"[/b] Sam blurted, almost inaudible. Ana shot an icy glare. The group fell silent and followed her dagger. [b]"That is none of your concern, pilot,''[/b] Ana spat, standing straight. The tension in the room was fierce, mostly from the red-head, Ana. Allen shifted slightly, he knew that subject was sensitive. That particular area of Ana's past cost her everything she lived for. [b]"Say, let's move on, okay?"[/b] Van chuckled unsteadily. Ana nodded and sat down. She reached over and took her bottle of water. Sam sneered lightly. Ana focused her thoughts elsewhere, mainly about her place in the group. She felt somewhat singled out. The original crew were so close, they didn't have to say it, but anyone could sense their relationship. They went through so much together, they lost so many other crew members. [i]And I only fueled the flame...[/i]Ana thought. Her face must have defied her intentions of letting anyone know she wasn't really paying attention. [b]"Ana? You alright?"[/b] Allen tossed a paper cup at her, pegging her gently on the shoulder. [b]"Huh..Oh, yes. Just thinking, that's all,"[/b] Ana shook her head and placed the cup on the table. [b]"Stop that, it gets you in trouble,"[/b] Allen gave a firm, single nod. Ana lowered her gaze to her hands.[/color][/size][/right]

[size=1][color=navy][b]Poem[/b]- The guilty will be judged, The innocent will budge to the temptaions around them, Hearts moan in the struggle. A battle of sins defies all, Sparking wars of ages, A battle we can never win, A battle that does not matter, We are the happiest sinners. [b]Word[/b]- Valor[/size][/color]

[color=navy][size=1][right]Ana entered the ship in awe. Her green eye slowly soaked up the interior. So much metal. So cold. So dark. This was going to be "home" for the next..who knew exactly how long. Her feet padded the metal grating, carefully. [b]"Hm, these are definately disappearing,"[/b] Ana groaned and kicked the brown high heels off. She leant over to pick them up and followed the others. They all gazed upon the entrails of the metallic, mechanical beast. Ana stopped abruptly, stumbling against a body. [b]"Excuse me,"[/b] Ana tilted her head slightly to the left to get a better view. [b]"Oh, it's okay,"[/b] a young girl smiled and blinked in confusion. Ana followed her stare to the floor of the ship, obviously staring at Ana's bare feet. [b]"Don't your feet hurt?"[/b] the girl questioned as they ventured further. [b]"No, actually, it feels quite nice on my aching feet. I hate high heels,"[/b] Ana shook the shoes in her fists. [b]"Then why wear them?"[/b] Sam's voice snuck from the darkness. [b]"Because, I was in the middle of an important meeting. Anyhow,"[/b] Ana turned back to the girl, [b]"I am Luitenant General Ana Thomas."[/b] Ana held out her hand and smiled lightly,[b] "But you can call me 'Ana'." "I am Doctor Steffanie Taylor Littleton,"[/b] Steffanie took Ana's hand and shook it firmly, [b]"But you can call me 'Steffanie'." "Pleased to meet you, Doctor...er, Steffanie,"[/b] the two chuckled as they entered into a brightly lit corridor. Ana squinted, as did Steffanie. There were several heavy doors lining the corridor. Some specified what they led to, some were just there. Ana's eye darted up and down, finally settling on a door that read [b]Mess Hall[/b]. The door gleamed, recently polished. Ana pressed a switch, activating they hydraulics. A slight pop sounded, followed by a gentle hiss as the doors opened. The room was large, not too large. Bright, but not too bright. Steel tables placed so perfectly, forming one giant rectangle. There were no chairs, no stools. Instead, on either side of the tables were benches. [b]"I thought I left these back in junior high school,"[/b] Steffanie huffed and walked around the room. Ana raised an eyebrow and made her way towards the kitchen area. It was small, and plain. She opened the double-doored refridgerator, met with a blast of freezing air. The contents were of the norm. However, due to modern day technology, all major meals were contained in capsules. There were several boxes of a great variety of meals. [b]"Well, well. Digging for snacks already?"[/b] Ana closed the doors and turned to face the man. She walked to the end of the countertop, setting her shoes atop. [b]"I didn't mean to startle you,"[/b] he shuffled over into the kitchen and pulled out a stainless steel container from the depths of the refridgerator, [b]"But, cold tea is at stake."[/b] The man walked back towards Ana, tossing the container up in the air and catching it mid-air. [b]"Oh, don't worry. I noticed it's marked,"[/b] Ana reached over his arm and pointed to the lid, [b]"See, 'Don't touch, or else.' ."[/b] The man chuckled, [b]"I guess Allen knows me more than I thought."[/b] Ana smirked and pulled her hand away, she turned her face to introduce herself properly, realizing how close they were. Her nose, no more than an inch away from his cheek. She jumped back slightly. [b]"My apologies,"[/b] Ana blushed and brushed her hair away from her lips. [b]"You are forgiven,"[/b] the man smiled softly. Ana nodded and looked at her shoes. She reached over and scooped them into her hands. [b]"Well, I will be seeing you,"[/b] Ana turned to walk away, waving lazily. [b]"Van, Van Ambrose." "Ana Thomas."[/b] [/color][/size][/right]

[color=navy][size=1]Well now, this will be interesting to keep reading up on. I like it, Manic. [/color][/size]

[color=navy][size=1]This thread runs along my in progress story, [i]Stigmata[/i]. I have decided to finally put this up here because the story is starting to advance, and it will only get harder for me to coordinate my fellow RPers within the story. This is my first story that I've tried the chapter writing in, and so far, it's doing pretty well. Granted, it takes longer, but I think it's quite effective. So, here is where the RPers [KnightoftheRose, Arika, Dmitri_Dragoon, and Baron Samedi] can post their views on a post, ask me questions about what's needed in a post, ask other players questions, discuss what is going on, et cetra. Stumped on what to write in your post, just discuss it here. Hopefully, this will allow all of us Role-players to get to know eachother's characters a bit more and make it somewhat easier to continue with the story. Trust me, it's going to get even more complicated (well, for me anyway) to coordinate characters and storyline. -Annie By the way, if anyone has been reading up on [i]Stigmata[/i], if you would like to comment and help out, please feel free to do so. This doesn't mean for everyone to invade this thread, so if you do comment, make sure it's worth the while.[/color][/size]

[right][size=1][color=navy]AvP was alot better than I expected it to be, honestly. I really thought I was wasting a lump of money and time to see it in the theater. Rather, the movie really was pretty good. I will hand it to you, Darkblade, that the storyline/plot was a tad ridiculous and it kept jumping from one topic to another; causing slight confusion. But, all in all, I liked it. [/color][/size][/right]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][right][b]OOC: Holy Moses, sorry for my absence. Wow, gone for a couple of days and two pages pop up. I apologize for my sloppy post, I'm rather tired. I just wanted to get back into the swing (although I'm still a bit behind), so just bear with it...[/b] IC: Ana sighed at the midsts of the growing madness. Everyone was buzzing with confussion, mixed emotions, and anxiety. Ana gazed around the group. Her eye fell upon Allan once more. Memories past flushed through her mind. The good, the bad, and the ugly. [b]"This is going to be a tough ride,"[/b] Ana sighed. She spoke with a few of the crew memebers and explained her work on the previous mission. [b]"So, you volunteered?"[/b] [b]"Yes, I did,"[/b] Ana spun around to stare eye to eyes with the distraut pilot, Sam Tiller. His hollowed eyes scanned Ana with such longing. [b]"I love volunteers," [/b]his lips moved ever so slowly and painfully, [b]"[i]She[/i]volunteered for the Bladerunner mission..." "Who?"[/b] Sam edged closer, his hand caressing Ana's. [b]"Tex."[/b] [b]"Ana,"[/b] Allen's voice broke an unsteady wave of twisting emotion,[b] "I need to have a word with you. If you'll excuse us, Sam."[/b] [b]"Of course, Cap'n,"[/b] Sam jumped back playfully and bowed. Allan shook his head at Sam and walked Ana towards the hanger doors. [b]"Stay away from him, okay?" "Allen-" "I mean it. It's for your safety."[/b] With that, Allen turned his attention back to the others. Ana nodded and glanced back at Sam. He was smiling, almost chuckling. [b]"What's so funny, Mr. Tiller?"[/b] Ana folded her arms. [b]"You have a pretty eye, Liutenant General."[/b][/color][/size][/right]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b][right]"Area, tench hut!"[/b] The lobby stopped all movement, as if it were a pause in a film. Ana gave a half salute and smile, waved her delicate fingers and winked with her right eye. [b]"Carry on, gentlemen,"[/b] she nodded and walked towards the tall, glass doors. Life stirred, people breathed, phones rang. Strange, the power of three silver stars, a rank of superiority, had on people. Ana never really got used to this, it still amazed her. The light from the sun illuminated the enterance to the grand, stark white building. The steps appeared to continue downhill for miles. Men and women passed, wearing the ususal black, pinstripe suits. Talking on the same black cell phones. [b]''Society, they have no idea,"[/b] Ana slid on a pair of sunglasses and pranced down the concrete steps. The city's streets buzzed with talk, shouting, honking, passerby's arguing with one another. A normal day. Ana stepped down from the final step and waved down a yellow and red taxi cab. The cab was your average towncar. A foreign driver, beaded seats, the intoxicating spicy airfresheners. [b]"Where to, ma'am?"[/b] [b]"Thirteenth Hanger,"[/b] Ana slid onto the leather seat. The driver nodded and sped off. [i]And so it begins..[/i][/color][/size][/right]

[size=1][b][right]|-Chapter 5- The Words of Athiests-| Characters [list][*]Corey Roos [*]Christina Venicci [*]Father Sammuel Jacobi[/list] Summary[/b]- Corey talks to Christina about the wounds, suspecting suicide. Christina fears she cannot trust even her friend, finally turning to Sammuel for a comforting hand. She is released from the hospital and cooperates with Sammuel. [b]Note[/b]- People in play: KnightoftheRose, Arika, and myself. Corey, postage belongs to you.[/size][/right]

[size=1][b][right]|-Chapter 5- The Words of Athiests-| Characters [list][*]Corey Roos [*]Christina Venicci [*]Father Sammuel Jacobi[/list] Summary[/b]- Corey talks to Christina about the wounds, suspecting suicide. Christina fears she cannot trust even her friend, finally turning to Sammuel for a comforting hand. She is released from the hospital and cooperates with Sammuel. [b]Note[/b]- People in play: KnightoftheRose, Arika, and myself. Corey, postage belongs to thee.[/size][/right]

[size=1][b]Note-[/b] Anything that is in italics symbolizes Italian.[/size][color=darkslategray][size=1][right][b]"So, are you going to tell me or not?"[/b] Jules pestered, throwing his jacket over his shoulder. [b]"Can we get on our way first, Jules?"[/b] Sammuel chuckled. He was amused to see that Jules's child-like attitude had not died out with time. The two men rushed into the lift and slammed the heavy, iron grate. The lift groaned with age and the support of thousands of men and women. [b]"I read an article in the [u]Catholic Words[/u] a few months ago. The one about the waters of Jordan turning into blood. You took that case, didn't you?"[/b] Jules leant against one side of the lift. [b]"Yes, yes I did. That was just a hoax...much like everything that I had been assigned to these past couple of years.."[/b] Sammuel's voice trailed as he glanced out of the small, stained glass window. The colors flashed from bright to dark as the sections of the building interferred with the light. A smidge of silence lingered in the musty elevator. [b]"C'mon, Sam. Not everthing was a hoax." "The blood-red waters, due to lack of proper sewage treatment. The unexpected rise of that disease, not a plague. Just some unknown burst of filthy viruses, caused by the poor health care of third world countries. Oh, and let us not forget about the outburst of 'demons' in the city of El Savidor,"[/b] Sammuel growled. [b]"What was that, by the way?"[/b] Jules began to slip his arms into his jacket. [b]"Escapees from the local prison!"[/b] Sammuel kicked the grate of the lift doors. Jules sighed and placed his arm around his friend's shoulders. [b]"Sam, Sam. Seriously, you need to take a long vacation. Away from all of this." "Thank you, Jules. But I.." "Yes you can." "I just feel that..everything that I've struggled to prove, for the sake of my religion..Everything that I have been lead to believe, has been a great big hoax. It's like the Vatican, the Church, has been laughing at me. Giving me these phony assignments just for their amusal." "You know, stay here in New York with me for a few months. I'll take you all around the States. We'll go to New Mexico, Arizona, the Grand Canyon, the desert is really beautiful, you know?" "Perhaps that's what I do need."[/b] The lift reached the basement and the men climbed into Jules's vehicle. Sammuel rest his head against the glass window and sighed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled yellow, sticky note. [i]Please hurry, Father Jacobi. The girl is in danger, and I fear I cannot help her. You are the only hope for this girl. God save her soul, and may God help you...[/i] Sammuel huffed in annoyance in his unconfident state of mind and tossed the yellow paper to the wind. Jules glanced over and smiled. [b]"So, who are we meeting?"[/b] Jules broke the steady silence. [b]"Marshall Dumat. He's watching over the girl." "What's her name?" "Christina Venicci." "Venicci,"[/b] Jules spoke to himself as if he were forcing a picture to pop into his head. [b]"Do you know her?" "Nah, can't say that I do. But that name sounds awefully familiar." "Hm. Anyhow, Dumat's contacted me and says she's experiencing the stigmata." "Is that so?"[/b] Jules blinked in astonishment, [b]"Do you really think it's the stigmata?" "I have no idea. But I pray that it is not so." "Why? This would be like the greatest religious discovery-" "I don't think so, Jules." "Why is that?" "It would destroy the church."[/b] The two men fell silent all the way to the hospital. They entered into the sanctum of Catholic care. The hospital did not appear to be a normal hospital of white walls and stainless steel fixtures. Rather, the walls were made of light woods. The floors were not linoleum, but carpets. Jules' eyes wandered from painting to painting, statue to statue. [b]"Whoa..now I wouldn't mind getting set up in a hospital like this,"[/b] he breathed. Sammuel smiled and looked for the "Critical Hold". Jules, feet behind Sammuel, admired the beauty. [b]"Father Jacobi?"[/b] a dark voice echoed downwind. Sammuel turned to his left to face a tall, stern man. His face resembled that of what we know as exhaustion. [b]"Marshall Dumat?"[/b] The man nodded and stepped closer. Sammuel extended his hand and shook Marshall's firmly. [b]"Pleasure,"[/b] Marshall shook Jules's hand. [b]"How is everything going?"[/b] Sammuel shoved one hand into his jacket pocket. [b]"Well, I would love to see you go in there and try to preach to that athiest. Both of them,"[/b] Marshall folded his arms. [b]"Both?" "Yes, I had to call on a 'Corey Roos'. He's the girl's friend. I'm hoping he can calm her down and try to reason with us." "I see. What has she told you about her wounds?"[/b] Sammuel motioned for the three to sit down. [/size][/right][/color]