Open RP post for Maggie Garcia

[talesuntold]

Because we chose to tell the truth
(The cool of age, the rage of youth)
And stand against the lies of old
(The whispers soft, the tales untold)
We find ourselves the walking dead
(The loves unkept, the words unsaid)
And in the crypt of all we've known
(The broken blade, the breaking stone)
We know that we were in the right
(The coming dawn, the ending night).
So here is where we stop the lies.
The time is come. We have to Rise.

—From Dandelion Mine, the blog of Magdalene Grace Garcia, August 7, 2041.

Bring me your plots, or send a message to tricia868 if you want to talk things out first!

Comments

Pick a world. Any world. Hers. His. A random game world. I'm open for anything.

[crazystranger]

In the end, portals to other worlds are almost becoming second nature for the Rowdy 3. Sure Windermere was a thing, and a life, and it changed a lot for him and the others, but this is different.

For one there's no weird fairytale aspects that he realizes right away, most seeming to be fairly normal. Secondly, he's alone which is the most worrisome of all.

At first he thought it was merely separation, landing in different places which he imagines could happen easily with all of this time traveling, and worlds and whatever else magic this is. He thinks if Amanda had done this, she would be right there with him, so someone else had a hand in this. Perhaps literally.

After all, it was technically a hand through a portal that had plucked him and the others out of a concrete prison like tomb and dropped them into Windermere so surely it's the same.

Except he's still alone days later, and there's nothing to make him think the others are anywhere near. The last time, even when Vogel was apart, he could feel him. Now there's an emptiness in the center of his chest and he can't seem to get rid of it.

Add to that people in this place seem more vigilant, more wary, than he's used to in even war torn parts of the country and he starts getting curious about what the hell kind of messed up world he's landed in.

Which, given the first time he gives in and feeds from someone in a high emotional state, he realizes just how different things are. They aren't right. Not wrong, but definitely not right.

At length he finds a bat, one old and used that some kid left behind and he starts wailing on a car. Frustrated and hungry and doing it in a rhythm, almost as if he hopes the sound might resonate with someone and draw out those he's missing.

[talesuntold]

A van careens around the corner, driving faster than any van probably ought to, but then, the roads are anything but heavily trafficked. She slows. Considers. Rolls down her window a few inches so as to be audible, one foot poised above the gas ready to floor it.

"You might want to stop that, honey," she calls. "Erratic behavior is one of the early signs of amplification, and getting shot dead would be an unpleasant end to your day."

Of course, he could actually be amplifying. He could be either confused or angry as his life slowly draws to a close, legally dead already, in which case a bullet before he forgets who he is might be a mercy. There's a gun in her glove compartment. She hates the idea of using it anywhere but a firing range. Maggie doesn't see a bite wound, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything.

Her windows are shatterproof glass, she has one foot on the gas and one hand on the window button, and she'll take off and leave him in the dust if she has to.

[crazystranger]

Martin's head shoots up the moment he sees the van. His eyes light up, grinning widely, expecting the doors to open and to see three familiar faces hooping and hollering as they poured out.

Instead there's a woman warning him about getting shot.

Slowly he lowers the bat, taking a cigarette from behind his ear and putting it between his lips. Pulling out a lighter, he lit the cigarette, all the while watching her curiously. He makes no move to step closer, still kind of waiting for the doors to open. Taking a drag and exhaling slowly, he shakes his head.

"I'm erratic as a course of action. Just the man I am. So far my day is unpleasant, and being shot heals like most things."

Taking another drag, considering her.

"You haven't seen three fairly erratic men around here? Maybe with a pretty thing, about this tall," he says, gesturing with his hand. "Who they're likely looking to as their queen?"