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Topic: Silent Hill Q&A
Subject: VALIMAR AND SPIDERS
We're ready to hear from you guys any time. Going to post for Hank tonight.
Posted on 2008-05-14 at 23:41:13.
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Topic: Silent Hill Q&A
Subject: The letter
A single sheaf of average lined paper is tri-folded inside. Opening the flaps of the paper, you see a grainy black and white photograph of a dark haired woman in dark clothing. She is obviously dead, as there is a dual pronged stilleto through each eye.
~~~~~
The letter reads
ARE YOU DONE YET?
~~~
Posted on 2008-05-14 at 23:39:13.
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Topic: Silent Hill Q&A
Subject: Kaelyn
Kaelyn's search results:
Under tray in register:
Sealed envelope addressed to HP
A photograph of a little girl with dark hair and blue eyes, on the back in small black ink : Del at the Lake
Dust
In the registry book
The bottom left corners of each page have a three letter sequence written in red. The book has a total of 150 pages. It is leather bound, with gilt edges. Each page has space for 14 names and each like looks like this
Name, address, phone, number of guests, check in date, expected check out date.
The first thirty pages are filled with names, addresses, phone numbers, guest amounts, and check in dates. Four entries have check out dates. The names are Chris Chatterton, Henrietta Preston, Delilah Drake, and Josh Rood. the check out date is 04/17.
The jar is empty but when you pick it up you realize it has no bottom.
Posted on 2008-05-14 at 22:57:55.
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Topic: Silent Hill Q&A
Subject: YAY
Kaelyn gets a cookie for first post.
Crafting results of your search.
Posted on 2008-05-14 at 21:42:05.
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Topic: Lantan
Subject: After The Fire
His words cut into her, wounding her like lashes of a whip, and she could not speak in the face of such animosity. As he turned from her and fled, she thought him a coward and returned to her cabin, pacing in frustration. After long moments of fuming, she busied herself with her gunbelt, fitting them to her over her dress. Perhaps she could avoid him at the other end of the ship, firing at seagulls .
Yet as she mouted the stairs and came into the clear, she watched Shaben leave. All thoughts of target practice left her. The world became quiet, so still for her that she could hear the pounding of her blood in her veins. An Elven woman warned them to fall back, to resist the urge to follow.
Evani was having a harder time resisting the urge to fire her weapon into the Elven woman's eye.
"By whose authority are you taking that man?" Evani called out, striding across the deck. The wind blew the ends of her hair, and she stood tall, head cocked and defiant.
Posted on 2008-05-14 at 19:46:50.
Edited on 2008-05-14 at 20:22:38 by Glory of Gallifrey
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Topic: Silent Hill Q&A
Subject: Hank is posted so....
LET THE GAMES BEGIN!
Posted on 2008-05-14 at 17:25:16.
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Topic: Silent Hill: Eternal Decay
Subject: Hank Preston
ST. STELLA CHURCH
Corner of Nathan and Neely
Thursday April 17, 5:23am
Someone has salted the earth. Where there was once a gently manucired lawn lined with delicate flowers, the grass is now bare in patches and a mottled, molding brown. To the left of the path is a large square wooden sign, once white but now stained with hands and dragmarks, dirt and time. Someone has spraypainted "God is out. Leave a message." on the sign, over the carved "St. Stella Church, Est. 1313" At the base of the sign are two spotlights whose lenses have been smashed.
The walkway is brick, uneven from possibly frost heaves, as if the ground has rolled beneath it. Fetid, swollen entrails line the walkway to the single step at the wide arched double doors of the curch. There is a large satined glass window on either side of the door. On the left, the image is of St. Stella, burning at the stake. On the right is St. Stella on the cross, headless, entrails hanging from a gaping wound in her belly. Both windows are missing colored panes. Pushing open the doors, there is basin of water to the left of the door in a wide foyer. The foyer is lined on all sides with padded benches. Decaying bodies have been arranged in various poses of sexual acts, with several manequins, in a perverse diorama.
Across from the doors are two more doors leading into the place of worship. The doors operate on bolt slides, and have been ripped from the track. The floor is hardwood, cracked and creased and nicked, and ten rowns of high backed cushioned pews line each side of a red carpet leading to the dais. To the left and right, the walls are decorated with stained glass windows depicting important scenes from the life of the blind saint.
On the Dais, the altar has been covered by a bloody cloth, above which a cross hangs. A woman is on the cross, geadless and neaked, her gut ripped open. Entrails spill down in long distended loops that have been there so long that spiders have nested in the spaces of the loops and woven intricate webs. To the left of the altar, a body is stretched uncomfortably over the edge, back bent. From the curve of frame beneath close fabric, the body is that of a woman. Long cinamon colored hair pools around her head. Around her neck, as if choking her, is a tatoo of winding vines and thorned roses.
She is clad in a black A shirt, typically known as a wifebeater, and the black leather pants seem to be painted on. She is only half wearing the beat up motorcycle jacket; it has missed one arm completely and is pinned beneath her weight. From the dangerous 3 inch heels of her black leather boots, one would think she had lost her balance. In her left hand is the strap of a black leather pocketbook, its satchel style flap lifted as if someone has gone through the contents.
Her hazel eyes snap open and she sucks in air, as if her lungs have just started to work again. The first thing that greets her eyes is the victim on the cross, and she scrambles backwards, crablike, till she bumps into a pew. Startled, she jumps and her eyes dart around, taking in the ruins around her. Though she wonders how she came to be here, she says nothing, preferring to keep her fear silent in case she is not alone.
Henrietta "Hank" Preston , 24, wonders, more than anything, how to get out.
Posted on 2008-05-14 at 17:22:15.
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Topic: The Would You Rather Game
Subject: not a difficult answer
Slacker.
Definitely a slacker...considering I spend most of my time inbetween meetings crafting posts.
Posted on 2008-05-14 at 11:53:12.
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Topic: Silent Hill Q&A
Subject: last Post going up tomorrow
Okay, really really tired. Will post for Hank Preston in the church tomorrow morning.
Posted on 2008-05-14 at 04:17:28.
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Topic: Silent Hill: Eternal Decay
Subject: Josh Rood
Silent Hill Flower Shop
Sanders St.
Thursday April 17, 5:23am
The shop is small, but once it was inviting. The flagstone ath is broken, stones missing, and the lawn has grown waist high. A curved metal bar reaches up from the wild, but the sign that is attatched hs been carved with symbols and glyphs and splattered with a dark colored substance. The wide bay window of the shop is no more than a broken, jagged outline, the glass long since vandalized. The door hangs half off hinges, and inside one can see the violent remains of a store.
To the left is a line of refrigerated glass displayes, but the light fixtures have been smashed with the glass, and are hollow husks. empty buckets with viscous fluid lin the bottom three rows, and empty vases fill the rest of the shelves. An arm sticks out of one bucket, the meat slack and slipping away at the fingertips, no longer driping an ooze that has puddled on the floor.
Along the back is the counter and register. A computer monitor, screen smashed, sits on the counter. The register is newer than the Inn's, but is closed. Behind the counter are rolls of cellophane and rolls of floral print paper. Above the rolls are shelves with ribbons and other items. There is a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY.
On the door, in what looks like Spray Paint: YOU DIED LAST NIGHT.
To the right are tables and shelves, broken and piled onto the floor. But it is the counter that one must pay attention to. Slumped over the counter is a muscular man, his long black hair braided. From this angle, it's difficult to see any facial features. An arm hangs over the counter, tattooed beneath a black tee shirt. Slowly he heaises his head, and a silver pendant clatters against the countertop as he rises.
The man casts frantic glances around the shop, taking in the distress and bloodsmeared walls, the arm in the flower bucket.
"What the..."
Josh Rood, 23, has woken up in Silent Hill, recalling only his name.
There are no flowers in the Silent Hill Flower Shop.
Posted on 2008-05-14 at 02:52:32.
Edited on 2008-05-14 at 12:05:53 by Glory of Gallifrey
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Topic: Silent Hill: Eternal Decay
Subject: Delilah Drake
Rosewater Park Parking Lot
Nathan Ave.
Thursday April 17, 5:23am
Rosewater Park, on the shores of Toluca Lake, was once a vibrant and magincal escape for many, yet has fallen into disrepair with the rest of the town. Bordered on three sides by a wide boardwalk lined with several viewing glasses operated by coin, food concessstion carts, and taffy pullers, the inner area of the park once treated guests to a playground and gardens, though the vegetation has overgrown and stagnated. Bloodstains, as if bodies had been dragged along the wood, abound. Several of the boads are loose or broken. The sound of the wind coming off the lake si liek a mournful moan.
The parking lot is wide and long enough to fit a total of forty cars, though now there are only seven, each one dented and broken, all glass smahes. They sit in dead, rusted decay, three with doors open, and bodies left inside. In the cent of the craked tarmac lies a woman.
Her hair is long, pin straight, and black as night. She is dressed simply, in a lightweight black sweater, the sleeves pushed up to her biceps, revealing old scars on her wrists. Her faded blue jeans are loose and sit low onher hips. The knees are torn, and the fabric is splattered with dried paint. Her black combat boots are worn and dusty, and a leather satchel lies beside her, contents spilled as if someone had been looking for something.
Moaing, she rolls ont her back, gasping for air. The sky is invisible. She sees only the thick, tenebrous fog, covering and suffocating. In this visibility, she can see only one car to her left and nothing else. Her flesh crawls, and she draws herself to her knees, looking around again and again for something familiar. Finding nothing of comfort, she closes her eyes, counts to three, and opens them again. The landscape has not changed.
Man, I must have... A knot forms in her stomach, weighting down her fear as acid burns within her chest.
"Oh my god," whispers Delilah Drake, 21. "Where the hell am I??"
Posted on 2008-05-14 at 02:03:50.
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Topic: Silent Hill Q&A
Subject: One more thing
Also, please wait to post untill all personal intros have been made
Posted on 2008-05-14 at 01:47:35.
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Topic: Silent Hill: Eternal Decay
Subject: Chris Chatterton
Jack's Inn
Corner of Nathan and Munson
Thursday, April 17th, 5:23am
Jack's Inn sits at the crossroads, a run down dilapidation of a building once white with green and white striped awnings. Now the soot of time has left it's mark upon the building, and boasts only varying shades of grey, brown, and black, streaked upon the outside by reddish tinted darkness along the doors and windows outside. The awnings, once bright and cheerful, are now but tattered rags, and flutter weakly in the sweet-rot wind coming in from Toluca Lake.
Facing the seventeen room colonial masterpiece, there is a long and broken path of shattered flagstones, the walk grown thick with strangled weeds the color of decaying vomitus. At the start of the path, the passage is flanked by a pair of stone creatures whose heads have long since been removed. The walk is liked with ovwegrown dying bushes, ending at the wide stretch of wooden steps, the paint peeling in many places, the wood rotting in most. Up the five steps there is the porch, which runs from corner to corner. To the left, facing, hangs the remains of a swing. Only one side is attatched, and the fabric seat is stained a dark reddish black.
To the right, facing, is a seating area of three once white wicker chaises, similarly stained and discolored. Lining the porch roof are hanging baskets that trail only dead vines. The front door, marked by handprints that drag down along the surface, is wide open, revealing a suffocating blackness. It is the lobby.
To the left is a stairwell. There s one sofa, torn and exposing stuffing and springs, and two armchairs in similar distress. The two armchairs face the sofa, and between the chais and the sofa is a coffee table, on leg broken, and the table has been snapped cleanly in two. Behind the two armchais is a hearth, inside of which can be seen the remains one can only hope are human.
Directly before the door, against the wall, is the front desk. Hand prints are all over the front of the desk and the top. In what looks like spray paint, the words CALL YOUR MOTHER are written in block letters. There is an old fashioned cash register, drawer open, empty. the pop up tabs indicating the last purchase read .13, and beside the register is an open book. It is the hotel register. There is an overturned cup of pens, a silk plant, and a jar.
To the right are four tables, overturned, and sisteen chairs, broken and unusable for seating. Along the wall runs a counter with stained, handprinted cabinetry, that is broken and missing in places. It is in the center of this mess that there lies a body.
Though face down, it is clearly male by the athletic frame, with fine sandy blond hair, spiky and wild on top. His scuffed black combat boots are untied, but he looks almost paramilitary; The body is dressed in black cargo pants, a lightweight black sweater, belt with two flaps lengthwise on the back, and a thin yet sturdy looking black tactical vest with the word SWAT on the back in reflective white.
Beside the body, near the turned away face, are a pair of glasses, lying useless on the floor. By one of the tables there is a backpack, high end and fairly expensive. It is open, as if someone has gone through the contents. The body moves, coughing and sputtering and shifting. Hands slide under, push, and he raises his head, looking around with a painful wince. Immediately, he reaches to his face then sees the glasses near him. Folding them neatly, he fits them inside a pouch of his vest and sits, looking around at the strange and unfamiliar territory.
Christ, where the hell...? What am I... He rubs his face, heaving a heavy sigh, unable to recall arriving here. Color drains from him as he realizes he remembers very little. He recalls only his name, Christoper Chatterton, and that he is 24.
"Holy shit," he whispers. "Holy shit, what happened here?"
Posted on 2008-05-14 at 01:23:48.
Edited on 2008-05-14 at 12:07:59 by Glory of Gallifrey
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Topic: Silent Hill Q&A
Subject: The Mad Genius Speaks
Hello ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking.
There's a general into posted.
Each player will be provided an individual intro.
I can not stress enough the importance of exploration, both of your immediate surroundings, and your general vicinity. Also, I have chosen you outfit you all with at least one weapon. By the way, you're welcome.
The Q&A Board is now open. Please discontinue using the recruitment boards ASAP!
Posted on 2008-05-13 at 20:52:22.
Edited on 2008-05-14 at 01:25:03 by Glory of Gallifrey
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Topic: Silent Hill: Eternal Decay
Subject: Dawn
Shrouded in mist for a hundred years, Silent Hill sits bleakly on the shores of Toluca Lake. Once quaint and comforting, the formerly picturesque town has fallen into disrepair. Buildings rot and crumble, roofs bend beneath the weight of age; A sick breeze moves between the streets, pushing litter and debris. It smells of death and sugar, disease and suffering, it's soured scent weak, sweet, and pale.
The mist that encapsulates the town never fades; it is a constant, haunting reminder of the horrors of the past, of Silent Hill's terrible tragedy that ripped it from the very fabric of life, leaving it standing, alone and forgotten, uninhabitted by man or beast. Yet there are rumors, whispers in the night, of children stolen from their homes, whose bodies are found broken and torn upon the welcome sign and strewn along the main street. Each year before the snows falls, and again when it melts into nothingness, criminals are lead through Silent Hill to clear away the bodies that accumulate.
At night, the lake remembers those it has taken into it's watery embrace. There are those who would swear they have seen the dead dance upon the surafce of the lake, ever surrounded by the thick fog of the shore, and in the unholy darkness that descends upon the town, the sounds of screaming and machina rise upon the sweet-rot winds to chill the hearts of those unfortunate enough to hear.
Yet once the town was idyllic, a sanctuary for those seeking such things. There are remnants of that happiness as you wander along the broken, dmaged streets; a doll lies, torn into pieces, in front of a cafe. The leash of a beloved family hangs over a crumbling fence. The boathouse lies in ruin, each vessel beneath its sagging roof a victim of termites and time. The world has moved on, and left Silent Hill behind, trapped in a hell inescapable.
There is a darkness that descends upon the town, a night so black and foul it distorts the senses and sickens the heart. The fall of such an unholy evening brings upon the air the smell of fire and things that die. It is no place for the living. And yet, as the last of such evil pulls back in the face of a new dawn, four new bodies liestill, unmoving, where they have fallen.
Posted on 2008-05-13 at 20:22:36.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: ACK!
OH NO!
By the way, is the elven lady the same one i heard in the tower at Sundrash?
Posted on 2008-05-13 at 20:11:46.
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Topic: Feeding The Undead Q/A
Subject: updates
Will do that tonight.
Posted on 2008-05-13 at 17:58:50.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: Aww
Could never get annoyed with you, George!
Just waiting for Hammer...trying to be patient...in the meantime, i will go plan out my own game.
Posted on 2008-05-13 at 14:56:42.
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Topic: RDI T-shirts
Subject: Oooh
OOH!
Zip front hoodie. In black. With Red or White letters.
It's made of win!
Posted on 2008-05-13 at 14:09:26.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: Sounds great!
*tapping her foot*
Posted on 2008-05-13 at 12:09:36.
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Topic: Silent Hill Q&A
Subject: Starting Info
STARTING POSITIONS
Valimar: Silent Hill Flower Shop
Throwing Spiders: Rosewater Park parking lot
Glory of Gallifrey: St. Stella's Church
Kaelyn: Jack's Inn
Reralae: Pet Center
STARTING HEALTH:
Valimar: Full Health
Throwing Spiders: Full Health
Glory of Gallifrey: Full Health
Reralae: Full Health
Kaelyn: Full Health
Posted on 2008-05-12 at 22:47:16.
Edited on 2008-05-17 at 02:32:57 by Glory of Gallifrey
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Topic: Star Trek: Operation Persephone
Subject: Experimental Ambushes
Stardate: 2374.09.01
USS Charon – Small Briefing Room – 1855 hours
Mas'Riat stood in the center of the room, as she had been since Talon had showed her to her door. Her eyes bore holes into the face of her PADD, at the mission paramets outlined for her. With monumental will, she moved her feet, one after another, to the computer.
"Computer," she commanded, her voice hollow and cold, "please confirm my attendance at tomorrow's briefing. Also..." her voice trailed as she continued to stare a the PADD. Memory assailed her, thought spun in a dizzying torrent. Closing her eyes, taking a deep breath, she found her center and everything stopped. The mad rush of thought and emotion swelling up within her vanished. She was, as she had once been, devoid of all but her objective. Survive.
"...Also, I need a map of all charted territory on the other side of the wormhole. Show me all reported Domion sightings and disturbances within the past six months. Show me all recorded naturally occurring recurrent atmospheric conditions, as well as any documented asteroid activity."
Her display brightened, revealing the information requested, and for long moments she stared into the screen, losing herself in the data.
"Computer," she murmured, tracing possible routes with her fingertips. "I'd like to save this file and run it as a flightsim. Run it with a skeleton bridge crew and have it ready for me, provided there's a free deck."
Mas'Riat tapped her commbadge. "Lt. Cmdr Talon, if you are not busy, I have an experiment I'd like your help with."
Posted on 2008-05-12 at 22:05:23.
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Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: ...
*sad*
Posted on 2008-05-12 at 19:45:49.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: oh?
So we're going to make it off the boat, hm?
Posted on 2008-05-12 at 19:35:10.
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Topic: RDI T-shirts
Subject: yummy
Yes please, same color scheme. And I like the tank with the wider straps, not the spaghetti straps.
Posted on 2008-05-12 at 18:46:59.
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