Story

Hello;
me and a friend are writing a story/roleplaying characters and facets of the game, to try and improve our writing skills but to also flesh out our characters.


I will be leaving it in parts here for everyone to read.

If you enjoy the story, let us know! It really helps us stay motivated. You can message me or Leon443 for any feedback.

If you comment in between posts, please write it in double parentheses or brackets. This just helps keep everything tidier.

But feel free to read and let us know what you think.

Enjoy!

No

*It was cool and damp that night, the moon shining through the clouds leaving a silvery shine on the city below. She could almost hear her heart beating in her chest, if it wasn’t for the piercing screams that echoed through occasionally.

There’s something conclusive about the shouts of the dying; when a dying person cries, there is still hope for survival, but the silence that follows death is a hopeless black void.

She unsheathed the knife at her hip, running her thumb across the spine. It was one of the few comforts she could offer herself in a moment like this, stalking a moving wallet. Wait, no, a person. Preferably with a lot of cash.

Turning the bend, she saw her target, a man wearing sunglasses, and pounced.*




*A cool breeze blew down the streets a short walk from the Lucky Shot Casino. The moonlight on occasion illuminating cigarette smoke coming from the direction of a disgruntled man. His open leather jacket catching the breeze allowing it to flap gently as he walked, exposing his grey t-shirt underneath, showing off a tribal style pattern. A punk, a rebel, or just stuck in the styles of a time since passed.
The rest of him, stone grey jeans, a little grubby from some fool dropping nuts next to him at the bar, wiped as best as he could at the time.
Thud thud thud, the march of black work boots. Finishing off the man's aesthetic perfectly.

He took another drag of his cigarette, only this time, releasing a sigh with his fog of misery.
"Dealer's got it in for me I swear" A gruff and annoyed voice let out, not too deep, but enough to clearly voice frustration.

At this moment, he wanted nothing but to just get back to the apartment. To drink away another loss and stash what he had left.

The man took a right, down a dimly lit street, dark but for one or two flickering street lamps, tearing through the Darkness if for a second.*

*There he was. She couldn’t tell if he was a looker or not with the sunglasses and un-formfitting clothing, but his body looked nice, strong for his age.

Her heart started to thud a little louder. She needed to do this. She needed the money to pay back Duke, or he was going to have her head. Word on the street spread about what he did to those who didn’t pay their loans back, and she was already two hundred thousand dollars in the hole. His catchphrase and motto was ‘Or Duke’ll be seeing your insides, and I ain’t using no X-ray’.

The thought of having her guts splattered across the pavement was not appealing, so this was her only option.

She was still new to this city, only a few months in, and she kept getting her ass kicked over and over, to the point where she was borrowing money to get better weapons so she didn’t have to use a knife she had in her kitchen.

Now she had a brand-spanking used dagger to carry around. Certainly was lighter and easier to wield.

She tackled into the man, sending them both flying to the ground. She held the knife to his throat and said* “Give me your wallet, or else.”


*His thoughts shattered as someone, or something came flying into him. His phone slid out of his jacket pocket and up the dark path a little.
Before he could try and raise a fist or legs, she was on top of him, knife to throat, in control.

"H.. hey what the f**k man? Do I LOOK like I have money for y..."

He felt the cold tip of the knife against his skin. The aggressor could now see his chocolate brown eyes, his, albeit now ruined, slicked short back and sides haircut, she could see a silver necklace around his neck although it was a bit dull even in the moonlight.

"A'ight easy, Where'd you follow me from? The Shot?"*

*His eyes, trying to make eye contact with his aggressor. His breath, slight smell of mid range smokes. The packet of which sticking out of an inside pocket. Three left.*

“Just give me any money you have.”

*She sucked in a breath at the possibility of him not having anything, of him not having any money at all. What was she going to do? She didn’t want to hurt him, not really. She didn’t like hurting people, as much as it seemed to be an enjoyment and pastime in this city.

Maybe she could rummage through the garbage if she needed to. Or beg for a promotion at the grocery store. Or steal some energy drinks from there, as it seemed to be such a hot commodity.

She felt tears brimming in her eyes. She was going to die. If not by this man beneath her after she would let him go, then Duke.

She sighed, retracting the knife so it wasn’t digging into his skin as much, but still there in case she need it.*

“Please, just…” *Her voice cracked a bit, putting her emotions on full display.* “Give me your wallet.”

*’God, I’m an idiot!’ She thought. ‘Now he knows how much of a weakling I am.’*

*The 80s dressed man blinked, what was half a second felt like ten. He knew there was his remnants of his losses in his pocket. Just give it to her. Just make it easier.
The man's common sense was screaming at him not to make enemies in the first few weeks of being in this damned city. Every city has it's muggers, just pay them off and get rid of them!

However, the man wriggled himself loose a little, some breathing room. His eyes pierced his aggressor's gaze, feeling the cold steel lifted as she.... Was pulling back?

He pushed mercy aside, forgiveness down, but not wanting to raise his voice, he spoke deep and clear. Intimidating, as best he could on the floor and in a mess, but quiet as to not wake the neighbourhood.

"Again, what the hell makes you think I have money. I lost, I have nothing. Get off me, woman. First that casino ruins my night and now you're ruining my looks, g... Get the hell off me!"

The man tries to raise his hands to his aggressors shoulders, trying to push them off!*

*Moved to Roleplay forums*

*It didn’t take much to push her off. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t work out in the gym; she spent all the energy she could muster searching through the enormous dump trying to find anything useful. It usually proved futile.

After the push, she jumped back, landing her pack into the muddy concrete. She groaned, sitting up, holding her back. She let out a surprised laugh.* “Damn, now I’m going to need some new pants. My shack doesn’t have a washer, and neither does the city. Ain’t that weird?”

*She laughed again. Why did she do that? She wasn’t thinking clearly. Did she hit her head when she fell back?*

*She stood up, a bit wobbly at first, and chucked the dagger away. It skidded into a dark corner somewhere.

She held out her arms in surrender, and invitation.* “Go ahead. Do whatever. It was coming to me anyway.”

*The man reaches instantly for the pistol tucked away, but hesitates, hoping she didn't realise he was armed. He instead, begrudgingly, pulls a $100 bill from his now dirty jacket pocket. He holds it out to the mugger.

"Against my better f**king judgement, take it. Go to TC, just... Take it while you have the chance."

The man dusted off his jeans and jacket with his free hand, stood tall above the woman. He almost felt sorry for her, this wasn't the first time he was mugged but he ain't gonna admit to that to some stranger.

"And pick up that dagger, you're gonna want to hold on to that*

*She pulled her lips back in a grim façade of a smile. Honestly, she didn’t want his money. She was tired of this city, but she couldn’t leave, couldn’t do anything but hope she didn’t die tomorrow when Duke came to collect his debts.

She sighed, looking into the man’s eyes. She didn’t know what she was doing. Her eyes roamed down his figure, tall, muscular. Someone who could do whatever he wanted in this city because he was handsome enough to go for politics or law and strong enough to fight for a living.

She noticed the gun right as he went for it. But he stopped. And gave her the money. Why?

She shook her head and smiled again, a melancholy adorning her beautiful features. She nodded her head towards the gun in his waistband.* “Just… shoot me. I’m a goner anyway. Just… make it fast, will ‘ya? Better than whatever Duke is going to do tomorrow.”

"Duke huh? I've heard that name enough in that casino to put two and two together." *The man smirked, his hair ruffled and blowing in the gentle breeze. He kept the $100 bill held towards the woman on the floor, but took a step closer. The lighter side of his jacket blew momentarily, enough to show one side was indeed weighted by the pistol. *

"Stand up, I ain't gonna shoot you. If I wanted to take revenge I'd leave you here. Sounds like you've got much worse than a bullet coming."

*The man would be visibly in shape, he's no bodybuilder but he looks after himself, broad shoulders, a musclar torso, his arms just showing a definition of muscle. The man was no male model but he certaily was no slob. Through his out of touch dress sense, he gives an aura that he's no pushover on the streets. He takes another step closer to the woman on her knees, she could go for him. He takes as calm of a breath as he could, she could shank his leg and be off with his money easily.*

*She shook her head, her waist length strawberry red hair swishing as she did so.* “I’m so f**king tired of this city. Show me some mercy and end me. At least you would do it faster then him.” *She reached for the knife the had scattered into the corner.* “Or I’ll just do it myself if I have to.”

*She held the knife in her hand for a moment, stroking the belly with her thumb. Crimson welled and streamed down her hand, but she paid no mind as tears also streamed, down her cheeks and falling onto the muddy ground. Her lips parted slightly, and a small laugh escaped her mouth. She raised the knife, dripping with blood, to her throat.*

*What this failed mugger was doing, the man has absolutely no idea. He continued to step forward, while returning the money to his jean pocket. Hoping to prevent another needless death in his short life in Torn City, he moved with purpose hoping to kick the knife from this maniacal mugger's grip*

"What in the hell is wrong with you?"

*Was all the man was able to speak before reaching her and going for the disarming kick to the armed limb. Was it going to work? Probably not. Did he need to try? Probably not. But no death, not tonight at least. His movements were one of instinct, a deep, primal urge to save, even if she did jump him. He could help somehow, however it was not in his personal interests, not yet anyway.*




*Her eyes widened at the move to disarm. Once he did, she just lay still and unresponding on the ground. She was alive, breathing, but couldn’t seem to move for a moment.

After the moment of not being able to move passed, she scampered away, crawling backwards away from the man. She didn’t even know what she was doing anymore, why she was doing what she did.* “Please, I swear to god, kill me, KILL ME! He’ll torture me. I just needed money so I could pay him back. I needed anything I could get from him so I could survive, but I don’t want to survive if it means a slow f**king death!”
*She stood, shakily at first, trying to reach back for the knife, the one that she had spent all that money Duke had lent her on. The blade seemed to mock her.

She turned to run, back to her shack. A length of rope was there from old maintenance project to the better housing around her. She wasn’t sure if she even owned it or just happened to be the only person squatting in it. She wasn’t quite sure. But either way, she didn’t plan on this night ending on her survival*

*'Shit' He thought, he recognized desperation when he saw it. Her majestic hair flowing with her every movement. He didn't close the gap while she scrambled to her feet. He saw a part of his old life in her, the desperation, the fear of the unknown, of those more established than himself. He'd planned to escape from that, to start fresh in a city that didn't know him, with criminals that didn't know his history and who he sided with.

Time was running out. This woman was going to kill herself because he didn't persuade her. His heart began to beat hard with every other beat. Almost like a warning drum, urging action.

He didn't move any closer, as the woman turned to flee, the man simply spoke, loud. "I can help you. Listen for ten seconds and then go!"

He hoped deep inside she stopped her manic frenzy. He didn't want to reset to zero, but he also didn't need another life on his mind. Especially when he could prevent it, or at least some of it. His stance was strong, stoic, but every limb was tense hoping to all hell she stopped and listened.

At this point, a couple of apartment window lights had switched on, but nothing more*

you write like a depressed chronically online 15 year old girl

*She halted, and turned to face him. Tears streamed from her large, Icy blue eyes. Why did she stop? She didn’t know him. He wouldn’t be able to help her. But maybe there was hope in the situation, in the direness she felt.

She cocked her head slightly, questioning.* “Tell me. How can help me?” *She took a step closer to him, not caring for her safety, the fact that he had a gun right there that he could pull out and shoot her with.*

*For her, hope was a corpse, a skeletal thing with black soulless pits for eyes that was trying its hardest to survive after starving for so long.*

*She wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand, and told him,* “Help me. Please, whatever you can do.”


*He let out a breath of relief that was very obvious by the fog released into the cold city air. Almost like the cigarette smoke he was so rudely ripped away from. Thump, beat, thump, why was he nervous? Why was his heart almost skipping? He needed to stay in control. His chocolate brown eyes, obscured in the dim streets, locked with her desperate ice blue eyes. Subconsciously trying to connect.

"I can give you more than I have in my pocket. Whatever situation you and this... Duke are in, it has to be better than nothing. No death, not tonight."

He released another warm breath of relief, the mist drifting into the night. A few more lights were turning on at this point in apartments high in the district. This doesn't need an audience, or anyone calling the heat on a public disturbance.

He relaxed his stance somewhat, taking the moment of calm to straighten his black leather jacket and conceal his gun and other belongings, what was in his pocket still. The keen ear may have heard a key of some kind.

"Look, I can give you money to potentially keep him off your back. Either, I give you an address and you find me.." He brushed his hands through his hair now, trying to fix the slicked back look, but it was gone in the night at this point.
"Or, you turn around and do this alone."

He knew whatever happened, she'd probably follow him to his apartment. It wasn't far down the dim streets, but he would rather not deal with a break in.*

“I… it’s okay. My… my house… well, shack, is by the dumpster, right near those new apartments they’re building. I would really appreciate it if you came to check on me tomorrow. Make sure I’m not dead or anything.”

*She sighed.* “Duke is the loan shark of the city. He gives money to people with a hefty interest. I wasn’t stupid with it, I just… I needed it to survive, to buy food. But I’m not nearly getting paid what I should at the grocery store. I can’t pay him back, but it was either that or starve to death. I haven’t yet risked stealing from my job, but I might have to. You… I heard you talking about the casino. You won’t have enough on hand to pay off my loans. It’s almost three hundred thousand dollars.”

She shrugged, but the weight on her shoulders was immense. “Thank you for trying, though. To help me. I just… if he kills me tomorrow, promise you’ll bury me. Or visit at least once at the hospital. That’s all I ask.”


"Three hundr.... You're right. I have nowhere near that much to hand."
*The constant talk of death dug into him as he heard this woman's story out. Not even the grocery stores where he was from would pay enough to cover $300,000 in debts, especially not to a shrewd loan shark like this Duke character sounded like. He had the money he came to this city with. Time to do something stupid.*

"Okay, here's what's going to happen. You go and gather your head, your shit, or your last will and...." *He coughs, this was no time for a morbid sense of humour.*

"Get your shit, you know where Sapphire Crescent is? Down past the Superstore and you'll see it. Big apartment blocks in the middle of the city. You want Half Cut Apartments, you come to 7E and you knock. If you get there and forget, ask for Leon. That nice young desk worker will tell you. "

*Leon turns to walk away.* "I'll be expecting you. If you don't turn up, I'll... Find you." *

Reply

man, if only there were an entire forum dedicated to just roleplay posts or something. Someone should make a suggestion to add that in the Politics forum

(You are supposed to use parentheses when it’s not in character)